My life consists of studying, laundry, and trying to creatively encourage the troops to be dedicated, consistent, 100% of the time serious-about-it Flushers. This ongoing task consumes a surprising amount of my mothering energy.
I have MANY talking points on the topic (and welcome any and all of yours):
* Empathy. You’re AFRAID of flushing? Okay. I can understand. But be MORE afraid of NOT flushing. Because… and then I have a list of awful reasons which are highly dramatized and not necessarily accurate. One of them, though, is that every single dear possession in the kid’s adjoining bedroom will smell of poo. Why does this not inspire flushing? That would have TOTALLY freaked me out. Not that I needed inspiring. My sister and I were flushers, and had no clue that we should have been demanding recognition/rewards/ponies for this natural ability because it is special.
*The positive reinforcement approach. This includes whooping and applauding whenever hearing a toilet flush in the house and yelling, “Who’s the flusher…? YEA!” And then announce the child’s name and high five the child and stop just short of throwing a parade in his honor.
*Flush Rewards. (shut UP, I’m desperate here, and trying everything.) This can be a sticker or a special snack or anything, but it is given to the kids whose potties were flushed when a random potty check was performed.
*Scrub Duty. Your potty was not flushed, here is a toilet brush and I will stand here and time you while you scrub for five minutes. No lectures, no drama, just the consequence. (I HATE this one)
*The Superhero Method. Look, this is what all girl superheroes do. Stand waaaay over here and flush with your foot. This one never caught on because a) they didn’t believe me and b) I specified GIRL superheroes.
My mom lived with us while her house was being built. There are many things I miss, now that my mom lives a full 5 minute drive away. She helped with laundry. She cooked. But more than that, she was just here and she mothered. (she still does, shh, go with me on this.)
So one summer day I’m really irritated with the no flushing thing and one of the boys says that THIS particular non-flushing incident was totally intentional, and was even done as a science experiment. And he’s serious. And I’m about to lose it, because I don’t care about science that much, I just DON’T.
My mother is in the living room.
I am overheard flipping out in the bedroom of the child who mistakenly thinks the academic excuse is going to fly with me. Specifically, I am overheard yelling, “Sure! You can do that experiment ONCE. But it turns out the same way every single time. You don’t flush? THE! TURD! FALLS! APART! OKAY?! NO! MORE!”
I return to the living room.
My mother has a grim expression on her face and says, IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, “Kelsey. I know I didn’t raise you to use that word.”
Ohmygosh. I just got in trouble for saying ‘turd.’ I really did.
She’s adorable.
“Mother. LaLa and I were two prissy girls. And I have three boys under the age of ten who do not under any circumstances say the word “fart.” Let’s just be happy about that right now.”
She looked completely stricken, as if she hadn’t considered it a possiblity that anyone would use that word, which is obviously so much worse. Neither one of us can exactly get our heads around the fact that I just said that word. Right after yelling ‘turd.’ I mean. Serious sins.
And she’s right. She raised me, and I very much agree with her on the vocabulary preferences. But I was mid-rant with the disturbing discovery of another disintegrating poo and the ‘T’ word just slipped out. My bad.
Fast forward to this week. Ethan-10yr was overheard using the “F” word.
Fart.
I cannot stand that word. It makes me want to gag, it is just so crude I can’t stand it. Ethan-10yr came around the corner and saw me, eyebrows up and maternal bug eyed in his direction, and he froze. He knew he had been heard. Caught redhanded in the hallway with disgusting vocabulary.
“Ethan-10yr. We do NOT talk. like. that. I cannot think of a SINGLE reason why it would be necessary to EVER use that word.”
(Okay, yeah, I am my mother.)
Ethan-10yr nodded slowly, and then started silently counting on his fingers.
I waited. He kept counting. And then I realized he was silently adding up all the reasons that HE could think of in which using the ‘f’ word was necessary.
I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing, because if he knew I thought it was funny this battle was over forever and the ‘f’ word would be in every other conversation for all of eternity.
“Stopit!” He’d gotten at least to 30. I wish I’d realized what he was doing a little faster, becuase if you want someone to stop saying a word it’s REALLY not a good strategy to accidentally inspire them to brainstorm every single possible use for that word. “Go back and you just subsitute a different word for each one of those and see if that doesn’t work better.”
He rolled his eyes and pretended to do this.
“Thank you.”
I know that with three boys, this is probably a losing battle.
But it’s not a battle I’m losing this week. And that matters.
I love you.
8:21 pm
I love this. Mostly because I don’t have boys and it gives me a glimpse into what my mother-in-law went through to raise two amazing men. They both flush and put the seat AND lid down. And, if there’s any messes, they clean those up.
Keep up your good and hard work, your future daughters-in-law thank you!
8:41 pm
Sarah,
if this keeps up there will never BE any daughters in law! Incidentally, my daughter was worse about this issue than all 3 boys put together.
The other day I was saying something about who knows what and got distracted mid sentence. So it came out like, “in this family, we are…” and then I stopped to do something. Caden-6yr sighed and finished the sentence, “proud, PROUD flushers. We are a family of flushers. Right, Mom? That’s what you say.”
It wasn’t at all what I was going to say THAT time, but it made me laugh. If they’d just start flushing, I’d shut up about it!
3:04 am
I hear you, Kelsey. Boy do I hear you. But I must boast that my youngest boy says he “passed gas,” and not only flushes but even wipes the toilet down afterward! He learned the latter from a male cousin whose mom is much better at toilet training (in all forms) than me. Ha ha ha
3:43 am
By the way, the “ha ha ha” is me laughing at myself cause toilet training is really something I’m miserable at (again, all forms), not lording it over you!
Just wanted to make that clear…
9:13 am
Sara, my kids’ passports are up to date and your youngest sounds like JUST the right influence! you’ve been with me long enough to read all of my own angst-ish potty training posts. NEVER. AGAIN. The first 2 kids were many times harder than the 2nd 2 kids, but I think it was their personalities, not me as coach. (Denial? Maybe.) And I bet you’re pretty great at it.
5:15 pm
I think you would absolutely faint at my house! Not only do we say the “F” word, but there might be some hilarity attached to it. I think all of the male members of my house are 13, regardless of chronological age.
8:13 pm
Melissa,
that sounds pretty normal! i pick my battles, and strangely, this is one of them.
10:36 pm
I thought the ‘f’ word might be ‘fig.’ Since you love that one so much too.
10:38 pm
oh, you’re right, i HATE that f word. Gross. Worse, in that Christmas song when pronounced ‘figgy.’ Gag.