There is a reason I'm so relaxed about potty training. I didn't mind that Eric was almost 4 before he was completely potty trained. He still wears good nites to bed and his pediatrician and I see nothing wrong with that. Lily is not ready for the potty and that is okay too. She can stay a baby for a while longer. If you don't like to read or talk about poop please stop reading now.
I don't remember actually being potty trained. But I know that I have always had issues with poop. I hold it in as long as I possibly can. I don't like to poop. I feel dirty while I am pooping. I freak the fuck out if husband tries to come in the bathroom while I am using it. I honestly don't know why. Everybody poops. Everyone you see today poops. Poop is gross but a natural part of life. When I was young I would hold it in until my body MADE it come out. It was humiliating to end up in the office everyday in kindergarten and first grade because I had shit my pants. My mom had to send extra clothes to school everyday. She would ask me why I went in my pants and I remember mumbling, "I don't know." And its still the truth. I don't know why but I don't like to poop.
I was never in daycare as a child, but my mom always worked. I always had different babysitters. Many of these babysitters are probably the reason I am so messed up. At one point my mom's older brother lived with us. My uncle babysat us (my brother and me) while my mom was at work. My brother and I would watch TV all day and eat hot dogs while Uncle did whatever in his room. I would poop in my pants. I was probably 4 or 5. I would hold it in, hold it in. Ignore that feeling of "you need to poop." And eventually, my body would just make it come out.
Uncle would get angry. He would put me in the back yard, make me strip my clothes and hose me off like you would a dog. He would say, "You like being shitty? You like sitting around in shit?" I would cry. I would say no. He would make me clean my underwear in a bucket of water.
Most humiliating of all, he would lock me out of the house with no clean clothes for hours. My friends from next door would come out to their backyard and point and laugh at me. I would hide under a bush and cry and wish for life to end.
I hate admitting all of that. In fact, I am shaking right now just remembering it all. My children will never feel that way. My children will learn that poop is natural. That it is okay to poop. That accidents happen and that is okay. Most of all, they will never be humiliated the way I have been.