Most every transition has been tough with him. Like all three year olds, he is a creature of habit and routine. But Thing 3 takes routine to the extreme. His daily routines sometimes border on the bizarre. Every detail is important, from which episode of Diego to watch, which color cereal bowl he uses, who opens the car door, and on and on. It’s a delicate act that we have all but perfected.

Until a new milestone occurs that throws a wrench into his carefully scripted world. Moving from a crib to a bed was a big deal. New shoes? Watch out. New classroom at daycare? Forget about it.

And so, we have dreaded potty training. We’ve been casually introducing him but he’ll have none of it. Now with just one month to go before he moves up to preschool, where being potty trained is a requirement, we are forcing the issue.

Yesterday was 12 hours of potty training bootcamp. We threw away the diapers (or so he thinks) and I watched him like a hawk all day, and offered him bribes of candy to sit on the potty. I had to clean pee off the carpet more than once but cold turkey is the only way to go with him. It was marginally successful.

Today we sent him to daycare in underwear and with four extra changes of clothes. He came home wearing underwear but with a pull-up underneath. For him, that’s actually progress.  It’s going to be a long, long week.

We’re officially in potty training with Thing 3. To say it’s been tough is an understatement, but there has been some progress lately. This potty scene should hardly be surprising given his history.

Yes, that’s a potty in the middle of the family room.  And of course he’s wearing a football helmet.  Doesn’t everyone?

We have been trying to get him to give up his diapers in favor of pull-ups for months. But he goes into a tantrum at the slightest mention of a pull-up.  So this weekend I asked him if he wanted to wear underwear.  To my surprise, he liked the idea.

He didn’t just like the idea of wearing underwear (which we let him do around the house).  He just really loves the underwear and it has now become another one of his odd comfort objects like the flashlights, my ratty old t-shirts, and his broken Buzz Lightyear toy.

He carries the underwear around.  He takes it to pre-school with him, keeps it in his cubby, then takes it back home.  Tonight, he wanted to sleep with the underwear.  Not wear them, mind you, but just next to him in his bed.  That is, until he decided he does want to wear them.  But I won’t let him do that because he’ll end up soaking wet during the night.

So he is now wearing the underwear on the outside of his pajamas with a diaper underneath.  As I said, it just keeps getting weirder.

The Little Looster is a plastic stool that surrounds your toilet.  It is designed to help little ones climb up on the potty, and because of its unique wraparound shape, gives them a place to rest their legs while sitting.  Ingenious!

The stool is made out of sturdy plastic and was able to easily support my weight.  It is wide in the front and narrower along the sides, providing a nice fit along the toilet base.  And it’s slim enough not to interfere when adults use the toilet.

It arrived in a big shipping box, with bubble wrap, which was enough to get Thing 3’s curiosity way up.  I was hoping the excitement would be enough to get him to actually sit on the potty.  But he still refused, and I know enough not to push it with him.  Luckily, Thing 2 was more than happy to demonstrate how it works.

You can find out more about The Little Looster  at littlelooster.com.

We did the usual triple bath last night – all three boys in the tub at the same time.  It can get crazy and cause a mess, but it’s the quickest way to get baths over with.  Thing 3 likes to has to stay in the tub until all the water is out.  Even then it’s a fight to get him to come out.  This kid loves water.

He was sitting in the tub, with no water, when I was helping Thing 2 brush his hair.  When I looked back at the tub, whoomp! there it was.   I had my iPhone handy to snap a photo for this post but I thought I’d spare you all and leave something to the imagination.  Since he isn’t potty trained I tried to turn it into a teachable moment.  “Poop goes in the potty. “  He wasn’t very impressed.  I fear we’re in for more of these adventures as he goes through potty training.   Does anyone know a potty training “expert” I can call?

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After taking Thing 1 and Thing 2 to the pool in the morning, I thought we’d go by this new Burger King with the biggest, two story play place I’ve ever seen. After which, they would surely be wiped out and the rest of my Saturday would be easy.

This play place had 4 levels of tunnels, slides, and climbing. There was actually a sign that said maximum capacity was 215 people! Surely that can’t be right. The Things were loving it. They played for almost 30 minutes before deciding it was time to eat.

At one point, I heard Thing 2 crying three levels above me. The one bad (or good) feature of this place was that I couldn’t see them. All the kids were hidden in the tunnels, and you could only hear them and the dozen or so other kids. Thing 2 had gotten lost and couldn’t find his way out. I sent Thing 1 on a search mission to bring back his brother, and all was good.

They had their lunch. Chicken nuggets and chocolate milk. Then, back up into the stratosphere which was this play place.

There were only a few other groups in the play area at this time. One was a dad by himself with six kids. I don’t know if they were all his, but this man is my hero.

Now I heard Thing 1 crying. This time he was the one who was lost, and was in a panic. Not to worry, Thing 2 to the rescue. It was kind of funny, actually, to see the 3 year old bring back his older brother from the brink.

They made their way down to the entrance. Thing 2 first, with Thing 1 not far behind, still crying. The other dad was at the entrance with his youngest, a toddler.

The other dad was trying to comfort Thing 1. “You’re OK now”, he said. Then, the dad started yelling at Thing 1 to “Put it down! Don’t touch it!”

I still don’t know why I’m telling this story.

I saw Thing 1 holding something in his right hand. It was brown and cylindrical. Do I have to say more?

Thing 1 was now hysterical with everyone telling him to put the poop down. He dropped it where he stood, like Michael Corleone dropped the gun after shooting The Turk, and I whisked him off to the bathroom. What kind of a public play area has poop lying in it? How long had it been there? Why did my kid pick it up?

On the way to the bathroom, I discovered it was Thing 1’s poop. He either had to go potty, but was lost in the maze and couldn’t make it in time. Or, because he was lost and scared, he pooped in his pants. Whatever the reason, it had literally hit the fan.

I don’t know why I’m telling this story.

We emerged from the bathroom after about 10 minutes. I still had to go back to the play area to get their shoes. I thought about making a run for the car. To hell with the shoes. I can get new shoes.

I just did not want to face the other parents back in the play area. I was mortified. I’m pretty sure the other dad didn’t realize, at least at first, that it was Thing 1’s own poop in his hand.

We entered the play area room. There was a poor teenager, probably pulled from his usual job making fries, with plastic gloves on, “sanitizing” the play structure. It looked like the site of a toxic waste cleanup.

I looked nobody in the eye, put their shoes on as fast as I could, and left the premises. Fast.

Needless to say, this will be my last trip to a fast food play area. If this happened to me, I’m sure it’s not the first time there has been poop in a Burger King, McDonald’s, or other seemingly innocent place where preschoolers gather. Once you have this kind of information, there is no going back.

But we can’t escape what we have been given. To quote Spider-Man’s Uncle Ben, “With great power comes great responsibility“.

And so, with great reluctance, I have come to recognize a talent of mine for what it is – a gift. I’m still not sure what I’m meant to do with it, but maybe someday I’ll know.

What is this great talent of mine? I can identify the smell of my kid’s poop. Yes, with a room full of people, when I hear, “Who has a dirty diaper?”, I can definitively claim, “Oh, that’s Thing 2″ just by catching a whiff.

It’s not something I wanted. Or that I’m particularly proud of. But I have accepted it as one of my “gifts”.

Such is the case with potty training. Thing 2 has been reasonably good with #1. Pooping, however, has been a much different story. When wearing diapers, he liked to go to his spot in the playroom and spend some “quiet time” with his castle, if you know what I mean.

To ease the transition, we’ve tried to make going on the potty as familiar to his routine as possible. So, I find myself in scenes like this. At the time, it didn’t seem like an odd thing to do. Looking at the picture now, I see it needs some bit of explanation.

They alway decide they need to go potty after we put them to bed. Then, we have to go all the way back downstairs for the sticker chart ceremony. Then it’s: “I’m thirsty”. I know it’s a ploy to stay up later. But what are you going to do?