Potty Training

I have worked with a lot of children through out the entirety of my life. This is because I like kids and they seem to like me too. This also means that I have moved so far beyond what a normal human would call disgusting that there are only some very specific professional avenues of persons who's "gross" threshold is higher than mine.

For instance, I was peed on today. It was actually the second time I was peed on by the same child. First time wasn't their fault though, their diaper wasn't properly fitted. This time, they are potty training and mom didn't think to mention it.

So there I am, reading a book to the kid in my lap when suddenly they're staring wide-eyed up at me with a horrified look on their face. I am confused for a brief moment as to how Dr. Suess's "10 Apples on Top" could spark such fear when I feel the dampness seep into my pants.

The stuff of nightmares.

"Do you need a change of pants?" I ask the kid.

"No..." They respond. I don't even know why I asked. I know what happened, they know what happened and we both have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen next. Kids always say "no" first as if somehow pure denial will erase what just happened. I can't say I blame them, I do the same thing. Unfortunately, it still doesn't seem to work.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?" I said, changing tactics. I can keep this up for hours until the kid relents and agrees to what I want. The secret is to be more tenacious and annoying than the child, and to try not to think too much about what it means when you are more irritating than a 3-year old.

"Yes."

I pick the sopping bottom up off my lap and watch the kid sort of waddle back and forth towards the bathroom in what I like to call the "anti-potty dance", which is the the follow up of the "potty dance" if the "potty dance" is not attended to in time. The "anti-potty dance" is the unfortunate person trying to move forward while exposing as little of their skin to their accident as possible. You can always tell when you are about to witness an "anti-potty dance" when a kid who was formally hyper active and running all over the nursery is standing stock still with a "deer-in-the-headlights" look on their face, both anxiously looking for help and hoping no one notices.

So we get to the bathroom and even though the train has already left the station, we go through the motions of using the potty because repetition is important, particularly if I want to fend off a third time of being weed on by the same child. I give them a pair of the too-big diapers (extra diapers in the nursery only come in 2 sizes: too big and too small) and a spare pair of pants and we get back to the business of play.

Mom comes down maybe five minutes later with a change of clothes and says "I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you they're potty training." To which I respond with a cool and unfazed "It's okay" even though my pant leg is still wet.

It is probably a testament to how much this did not phaze me that I am sitting here, 13 hours later, in the same pair of pants not even thinking of it until I was trying to come up with a post for today. Then again, compared to the poop-zlplsion incident my first year working in the nursery this was fairly tame. It's probably all just a matter of perspective.