When you have a Toddler, You never Potty Alone

I realized something today. I have not had a satisfying bathroom experience since my son became mobile. By mobile, I mean he can move farther away from my outstretched arm than I can reach as I try to conduct...business. I remember the days when I could read a magazine, check my phone or maybe just sit and contemplate life while in the bathroom. For that is what toilet time is for - peaceful meditation.

More importantly, bathroom attendance is a solitary event. It is something meant to be done in relative peace and quiet so that all functions work smoothly and uninterrupted.  Having someone go with you is just...wrong. Plus it's really hard to reach Zen when you have to plop down quickly before your toddler throws his Bink into the bowl. Unless you plan to hold it for five years, however, you learn that sometimes, potty time is a group activity.

I never thought I could do it, but yes, I can potty with a toddler hanging onto my leg. I have also perfected the "reach" which gets him out from under the bathroom sink whilst my booty stays mostly attached to the toilet seat. Mostly.

The bad days are when we go to the bathroom, but mommy...silly mommy...forgets to shut the door properly. That means right in the middle of said constitution, Little Man escapes. The only thing worse than a toddler joining you is a toddler deserting you. There is no way to continue to concentrate because you have no idea what he's into. Is he currently going through dirty laundry and putting your panties on his head? Yeah, it's happened.  Is he pulling out all of Daddy's running clothes from the dresser while you try valiantly to complete the deed? Probably.

I know there is a mommy reading this who says, "why doesn't she just put him in the crib?" Well, I could do that, but the only thing worse than a baby on the leg and one who escapes is one who stands in the crib, wailing and wanting out. Who can concentrate with that racket? A better pooper than me, that's who.

It has really become the "Toilet-Olympics" in my house. Daddy gives the signal that he's heading to work, which means I only have a few precious minutes for bathroom activities. There's no time to waste! Like an athlete, I lean over, fingers touching the floor. The baby whines, and off I go in a coffee-fueled dash! I run down the hall, racing for the seat, my pants coming down before I even open the bathroom door. Barely do I sit before I complete my task, wash my hands and return for baby duty. Daddy is free to leave, and I have set a new world record. The judges from Romania gave me a 10.

Clearly, I have become the Bruce Jenner of Pottying.  Look for me on a box of Wheaties - or Charmin.

Delicately,
Amanda Z
Domesticology

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