We've been battling the overnight pull-ups for close to a year now. In fact, actually, now that I sit here typing and have resorted to counting on my fingers, we've been doing this since Kiddo #1 was 2.5 years old, which is technically uh, carry the one ... yeah. I mean, going on 3 years now. Ugh.
Kiddo #1 had no problem learning how to use the toilet during the day-- I'd even say she was amazingly easy to train. I would like to think it's because we cloth diapered and so she felt it every time she had an 'accident' in her diaper. But let's be honest-- if she only knew cloth diapering, then how would she recognise that "wet" or "crap-filled" was "weird?" Oh, Marshall McLuhan and your hypothesis that a fish has no idea he's in water until he leaves the stream. Is there nothing your brilliance cannot touch?
Anyway. So, you'd think that if she has no problem with being conscious and making it to the toilet, and that it's only while sleeping that she has accidents, that therefore she would have accidents during nap time, too, but no. Just in the overnight.
The Top 10 Things (out of 6 Million) That We Tried To Get Kiddo #1 To Have Dry Nights
1. Rewards: stickers, tattoos, silly bands, Smarties (the Canadian ones, not the American ones, which are called Rockets in Canada. AND, ironically, American Smarties are made in Canada).
2. Good Praise: Ranging from elaborate, choreographed "Potty Success" dances to subtle "Great job, honey-bunny."
3. Ignoring accidents: (not to be confused with negative praise, which shames your child into not wetting the bed, we didn't want to do that because, well ... well, it works. Every time. Like a charm. But we, apparently, prefer a multi-year challenge, so we skipped the shame. Sigh. What were we thinking?) Right, so ignoring-- when there was an accident, we'd say, "Oh well. Try again tonight."
4. Food Exclusions: I heard that different foods satiate you more, and allow a deeper sleep at night. These foods include, but are not limited to: peanut butter, cheese, eggs, (mainly proteins) ... So one by one we'd take them out of her diet to see if she was better able to arise before an accident. No dice.
4. Cold, hard, cash.
5. Offer of something insane in exchange for 14 dry nights in a row.
Trust me, we've tried it all. Except the shaming, I guess. But anyway, I feel like we could write a concise, all-in-one-spot reference on everything everyone tells you to try, when potty training. However, we still have a kid in pull-ups overnight with good, but unreliable successes so it probably wouldn't sell well.
Let me tell you that resorting to cold, hard cash was hard for me. I don't believe in teaching children to get shit done for money. I mean, really, isn't that kinda ... capitalistic? Or something nefarious like that? You should feel good about not shitting the bed, right? Not just hold out and keep swimming yourself awake until you get the right dollar amount. But, yes, we resorted to money when, after the first year and a bit, nothing seemed to really be working reliably.
It goes like this: $1.00 for each dry night, with the chance for a bonus dollar if she has the dry night in her own bed. She can't just earn the bonus dollar for sleeping in her own bed (which, she's smart enough to have asked about after day 3, hahaha). And, yes, I totally dig that I'm teaching her to believe that she should also hold out for a Price Is Right style game of bonus prizes.
Oh, and because I, too, like Price is Right style games, we did a combo of #4 and #5-- she was allowed to save her money up for a hamster. She originally wanted a kitty, but Husband nixed that before the KI was out of her mouth. So Husband and I negotiated Kiddo #1 down to the hamster. Plink-o that, bitch.
However, after probably close to a year of saving her loonies and twonies (pronounced looney and tuney for those of you outside of Canadia. Ha Looney Tunes. Nice, Canada, nice.) Husband said, this morning, "Um. Do you think we should let her like, buy something with all that money? I feel like she might feel more excited about saving if we get her, say, the cage or something for the Hamster."
Brilliance! Let me tell you, he's more than just a pretty face, that Husband of mine.
So, off to the pet store we tooted this morning, after counting her money (you do NOT want to know how much money she'd raised, it would make you cry. And want to mug her.). And, actually, the counting of money-- putting a value on the "leaf, beaver, boat, caribou, bird and polar bear" (the penny, nickel, dime, quarter, loonie and twonie) and showing her how many of each thing is in a dollar, it was a fun little game. Four caribous equals a bird. Two birds is a polar bear. Ten leaves is a boat.
Oh the games you can play when your money has national treasures on it. And by national treasures, I mean, wildlife.
Anyway, toot-toot to the pet store. We chose a glass aquarium, glass water dispenser, pink bedding (made from reclaimed/recycled waste from the paper industry, so it's super compostable, too), a purple metal wheel and a white dish for food.
I know hamsters only live two years, but I couldn't, in good conscience, put a hamster in a plastic house with plastic dishes and plastic bed et cetera. Husband, of course, said, "You're kinda being crazy."
Me: Cray. You mean, 'cray.'
Husband: Are we doing this again?
Me: Just trying to keep you relevant, Diddy.
Husband: Right, so you're still being (air quotes) cray. Hamsters don't care about plastic.
Me: I care.
Husband: But they only live, like, 2 years.
Me: Yes. But it will be a wonderful, fertile, non-cray two year span.
Husband: That hamster had better NOT be fertile.
Me: Plus, I read that book The Room about being locked away from the world. It has changed me.
Husband: A H-A-M-S-T-E-R. Seriously.
Me: Plus, because we're getting the recycled bedding, she can have a pink house for her hamster just like she wants.
Husband: You're crazy. No, I take that back: you're CRAY.
Me: Thanks!!
I always love it when he embraces cool slang and stops being an awkward turtle.
(this one is bewildering even to me-- but you take your hand with the palm face down. Then, with your thumb and pinkie finger, you make circles and with the other three fingers, you have them stay straight. This, apparently, looks like a turtle swimming, yet it's awkward to do, and possibly if you're a turtle and your one fin is short and thumb-like, with the other one short and pinkie-finger like, you would swim awkwardly. The piece de resistance is when you put one hand on top of the other, which is the mega-awkward turtle.)
So, as of today, we have an empty hamster aquarium with pink bedding, a purple wheel and a white food dish. Kiddo #1 has to achieve 14 dry nights in a ROW in order to unlock the bonus Hamster. We're going to draw a Hamster on the calendar every time she has a dry night.
Hopefully we'll have that puppy filled sometime before she's 8. Teen. I mean, at that point, the bribe would just be a car, right? Oh crap. She's been holding out all along. Now who's the awkward turtle?
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