going out when potty training

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Poop in the shopping centre

This happened a while back, but I used this story as my entry in the Kleenex mums So You Think You Can Blog competition. The submitted post had to be something not posted elsewhere. The comp ended on the 1st of May, yet they haven’t put up any entries after the 24th of April (mine was after that), nor have they announced a winner. In all, they only have 8 entries up, and a blurb saying there’s still time to enter until the 1st of May.

Basically, I can’t be bothered waiting anymore. I didn’t spend lots of time and effort writing and drawing something that possibly won’t ever get posted because they can’t keep track of their competitions. Or whatever reason they have for not putting things up and announcing a winner.

So here it is – a true story of horror in a department store at the shopping centre. Of course I didn’t call it “Poop in the shopping centre”, I called it “Potty Training in Public.” Didn’t want to scare them off with just the title :

Potty training is hard. At least it has been for us. For the longest time, Hannah (2 years and 8 months old) refused to even sit on the potty. So I didn’t push it. I just left her in nappies.

Then one day, she decided she wanted to wear underwear. And still not sit on the potty. Sigh. Oh well, it was a start.

She wet herself every few hours, turning our carpets into a disgusting smelly mess no matter how many times I scrubbed them and peppered them with carpet freshener. But then a light bulb seemed to come on, and she finally got it. She started peeing in the potty every single time. Even when we were out.

Poop? Now that is a whole other kettle of fish. That we are still working on. Every day, she poops her pants and I have to attempt poo removal without it a) getting it all over me b) getting all over her c) getting all over the floor, or d) all of the above. Ick. I don’t know why she can’t just poop on the potty.

We’ve been pretty lucky with outings though. She doesn’t usually poop while we are out. Until the other day.

“Mommy, I have to pee.” Hannah told me. We were in Myer, so we found the nearest bathroom and that was that. We kept shopping.

“Mommy, I have to do a poo.” Except when she says that, it means she already did a poo. Or was in the process of doing so.

“Why didn’t you go when we were in the bathroom, we were just there.” I grabbed her and ran. The bathroom was all the way on the other side of the store.

“I’ll meet you over there.” My sister in law told me. She had the shopping trolley, my son Daniel, and all of our shopping.

Finally, we made it to the bathroom. Too late. Sigh.

Her bottom was smeared in poop from me carrying her all that way. I tried to clean it off with toilet paper, but I needed something better. I needed a wipe.

I took Hannah, pants-less, out of the bathroom, hoping that my Sister in law was just outside. She wasn’t.

We went back down the corridor to the bathroom, Hannah’s poo covered bottom hanging out for all to see.

“Didn’t quite make it?” An employee asked me. How embarrassing.

I took Hannah back in the bathroom. A wet paper towel would have to do. Sigh. No paper towels. Seems Myer is all resource conscious and only has hand dryers. Fine, a wet piece of toilet paper would have to do. We went back in the bathroom stall to get some.

Hannah came closer to me. Oh no, I knew what she was about to do.

“NO HANNAH, YOU CAN’T SIT ON ME RIGHT NOW!”

Too late. She jumped on my knee as I knelt there next to the toilet paper dispenser. Alarmed by my outburst, she got straight off. But the damage was done. There was poop all over my pants. Ick.

Lots of wet toilet paper later, she was finally cleaned up. And I had to wear my jeans with that not-so-lovely, stinky brown spot on them all the way home.

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