The Poop on Interoception

Guest post by Patty Porch of Pancakes Gone Awry

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Mention the topic of potty training and I am liable to break out in a cold sweat. Nausea has been known to strike, and I sometimes feel panic gripping me. The issue of potty training has been known to reduce me to tears dozens of times.

In all my 7 and a half years of parenting, I can think of few other topics that make me feel quite as inadequate and helpless.

Neither of my oldest two children were particularly easy to potty train, and neither of them were trained at a very young age. But Danny, Danny was a spectacularly challenging case, one which we are still working on, even now as he nears his 8th birthday.

When Danny was a toddler, I decided to wait a while before training him. His speech was quite delayed and I didn’t know how I could train a kid who couldn’t express his need to go. So, I waited. After all, I had plenty of other things to keep me occupied, what with his speech and occupational therapy, working out a sensory diet and trying to minimize his sensory meltdowns.

I had my hands full.

When we did finally begin the potty training process, I tried many different tactics: rewards, sticker charts, picture schedules, begging and pleading and lots of prayers. One day, I even promised Danny to buy him a car if he went on the toilet. And when I say “car,” I wasn’t talking about a Hot Wheels toy. At that moment, if my son had used the toilet, I would have gone out and bought him a real car. That was how desperate I had gotten.
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