My son, Lucas, is about to turn 5. He’s smart, sweet, hilarious, and quite the charmer. Everyone adores him, and he keeps me guessing with his clever shenanigans (like the time he decided to turn the upstairs bathroom into a mini water park just weeks before Christmas). But there’s one thing that’s still a work in progress: Lucas isn’t fully potty trained.
Before you gasp in disbelief at the thought of my child having daily accidents—whether at home, in public, or even in my car—let me set the record straight. This isn’t something I’ve allowed; it’s a reality we’re still navigating.
I often feel like I’m failing as a parent. Over the last three years, I’ve tried every trick in the book. I’ve offered rewards, set consequences, created elaborate potty charts, and set my iPhone timer countless times. We’ve even left parks in a hurry when the unmistakable wet spot appears on his pants. I’ve allowed him to play while wet, hoping peer embarrassment would kick in. Spoiler alert: it hasn’t.
I’ve given him grace, understanding that Lucas was pushed to potty train at daycare when he was just 2 and perhaps wasn’t ready. Adding to the chaos, we welcomed a new baby and moved to a completely different state, leaving Lucas, my middle child, to adapt to a whirlwind of changes. So, I tried to remain calm, made new potty charts, and did my best not to break down while tossing yet another pair of beloved superhero underwear into the trash at the local café. (Yep, that happened just two weeks ago.)
While my mom friends are supportive and understanding, I can’t escape the judgment from strangers. I’ve had moms approach me at the playground to inform me that my 4-year-old had an accident, which upset their little ones who were magically potty trained at 18 months. I’ve felt the urge to respond with a sharp retort to these critics who imply that if I were just a bit more diligent, my son would have mastered this by now.
In just a few months, I’ll be signing Lucas up for kindergarten. It’s hard to fathom that my sweet boy, who I love with all my heart, will soon be navigating the cafeteria, learning to read, and writing his name. I worry about how his potty training challenges will affect him in this new environment.
Kids can be cruel. I know he will face teasing about something—his clothes, his hair, or his love for dinosaurs. I just hope that something as fixable as potty training won’t become a lasting nickname that follows him through school.
Recently, I took Lucas to the pediatrician, who diagnosed him with constipation. This condition, she explained, can dull the signals his body sends when he needs to go. While I’m relieved to have some clarity (and a daily laxative mix), I understand that patience will be key in this journey.
Lucas isn’t going to college in diapers, and while I hope for fewer accidents when he starts elementary school, we’ll handle that if we must. He’s not the first child to face these difficulties, and he certainly won’t be the last.
Explaining this situation to others can be frustrating and embarrassing. I often feel like I’m both fiercely defending my son and being the person he upsets most. I’ve experienced all kinds of emotions—guilt, pride, embarrassment—but ultimately, what matters is my love for Lucas and my commitment to doing what’s best for him. As long as he knows that, we’ll be just fine.
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Summary:
Navigating potty training with my son Lucas has been a challenging journey. Despite my best efforts and various strategies, accidents still happen, leaving me feeling like a failure at times. With the added stress of life changes and societal judgment, I strive to remain patient and supportive. A recent pediatrician visit revealed a constipation issue, providing some clarity on the situation. Ultimately, my love for Lucas remains unwavering, and I’m committed to helping him through this phase.