Toilet training a human

I’m at the fucking end of my patience. Three shites yesterday, four the day before, three already today, and it’s not even six o’clock.
When I picked him up from the Kita I was presented with the customary bag of shit-encrusted clothes, the customary embarrassed apology, the customary shrug and shaking of the head.
Nobody knows what to do. I’m at a loss, they’re at a loss, Jenny’s at a loss.
The only one who doesn’t give a shit is the young fella, who proves it all the time by producing them.
I told him today when I picked him up to tell me if he needed to do another, that I had a nappy in the bag and could whip it on if necessary. He assured me he would. Fifteen minutes later he’d done another.
It’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s happy enough, even proud, to pee in the toilet or on a tree. But he has a block when it comes to shite. He refuses point blank to shit in a toilet or in a potty.
Instead we’d reached the compromise agreement where he’d say he needed a nappy. That was fine until he’d have the nappy on for an hour while we’re waiting for the anticipated shite to come. In the meantime he’s playing, fucking around – not giving a shite.
Lately he only shits in his jocks. He seems to making a point of it, going out of his way to shit as often as possible to ram his point home.
The whole thing has been going on since December, if not earlier, when it was decided the time for nappies was vorbei. Apparently it’s not good to pressure the kid in situations like this. Some kids are quicker than others and you keep being told, “He’ll do it when he’s good and ready.”
Well, fuck it, I’ve waited long enough. I’ve enough of scraping shite off jocks into toilets, enough of scrubbing the things clean. It’s around six months now with no end – bar his own red one – in sight.
Lately I’ve been getting him to clean his own jocks and clothes as much as he can, get him to do as much of the dirty work as possible. As I type he’s scrubbing his jocks from today. It’s a beautiful day. We were supposed to be out looking at the goats in Schönholzer Heide.
I don’t know what else to do. He seems oblivious to it all. At least the washing machine is working again.

No pictures will accompany this post.


  1. Oh...SHIT. (Badabing.) That sounds annoying. L is the same with peeing where ever (though she prefers outside in the grass, which much of the world finds less funny when she decides to do it in public, say, in the middle of the sandbox), but asks for a diaper to poop. I now realize how lucky that makes us.

  2. Ah, couldn't help but laugh. Good luck with the potty training. Maybe it's a pretty good idea getting him to clean his 'crap'...might sink in he should actually go to the shitter instead of shitting his pants. Who knows?

  3. Not the first time I hear about a kid with a potty training blockage, or a big backwards step, just as the family goes through major changes and their peaceful little worlds are disrupted, be it a move, or parents breaking up. He could be telling you something he can't put into words. No idea how to tackle it, sorry.
    We've just gone and got ourselves a THIRD, just as the second is out of nappies. People must think we like poopy messes. Ah well. Good luck for you from Dresden! Maria and the gang, no longer comprised of just boys.

    1. A THIRD?! Wow, congratulations!

    2. I'll refrain from my usual snarky comments like 'stop feeding the little shit' and try to say something useful: dark chocolate and cheese diet. Constipates the living fook out of most bipeds. Fewer shites = fewer problems. Good luck.



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