This past weekend, we made the trek to W*unakee to visit Emily, Omar, and Sophia. It was a delightful trip, as usual, until Sarah announced on the drive back that she had to go potty. Luckily (we thought), the next rest area was just a few miles down the road. I was relieved to see it was an older building, which reduced the odds of the dreaded auto-flush. That didn't seem to matter to Sarah, however, as she immediately started swearing she no longer had to go.
I carried her to the stall and, with great flourish, stuck a "magic paper" on the manual handle. I figured it was a good chance to practice with the P*st Its, when there was no chance of failure. Sarah didn't feel the magic, though. She refused to sit on the seat and grew increasingly anxious, until she was screaming. I pleaded and prodded for a few minutes, until it was obvious there was no way I could win. We returned to the car, and I resigned myself to an accident.
A few miles down the road, Sarah indeed declared, "Wet." We got off the next exit and pulled into the deserted parking lot of an office building. When I took her pants off, however, she was dry. Noticing the narrow lawn in front of the building, I decided it was worth a try to have her go in the grass. I held her by the waist and told her to bend her knees, and she went right away. Problem solved, for the moment.
Since it's finally spring and we live in a rural area, knowing Sarah can "use a tree" brings some relief. We should be able to schedule our outings around her fear of public restrooms, with one notable exception. This Friday, she and I are flying back to M*ss. to visit my family. From the time we leave our house until we reach my mom's will be about nine hours. That's a long time to go without a potty break.
So, yesterday, I got on the Internet in search of a fully portable potty chair. Lo and behold, there is such a thing, called the K*lencom P*tette Plus, no less, and, wouldn't you know, I could get it shipped from W*lmart to arrive by tomorrow -- all at a not-too-exorbitant price. It should fit into my backpack for the trip, and, I've rationalized, will come in handy in the car and boat this summer.
I can't tell you how discouraged I felt Sunday afternoon, when it was obvious something that had come so easily for Sarah (and me) had been taken away. She was a breeze to potty train and always went without incident in public toilets. It seems as though I spend every free minute researching and brainstorming ways to work with the latest challenge that she's presented me, and I couldn't believe that a notable achievement had just disintegrated.
The next day, however, I set about overcoming the latest roadblock, and I think I have. I've decided that being a mom later in life must be good for preventing Alzh*imer's disease. Raising a child is a perpetual chess match, and I'm constantly plotting my next move. I hope it's keeping my brain young, if not my body. I'll have to admit I sometimes miss the simplicity of the N*w Y*ork Times Sunday crossword, though.
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