The Deal With the Potty

The Boy is three years old. He's advanced, or at least above average, in all age-appropriate development - he counts, has started spelling, is incredibly verbal and social, rocks jigsaw puzzles and other tasks that require spatial awareness and problem solving skills. He really is doing so well and is such a big boy.

Except when it comes to this one pesky issue: the potty.

The Boy is decent at letting me know when he has to pee then going on the potty, but pooping is something else altogether. He's so big that his diapers can't contain his poop, and they don't make bigger diapers in the brand we use. I've read him books, tried rewarding him with stickers and occassional treats, negotiating, rationalizing, what have you. I even thought peer pressure at school might get him on the pot. None of it has worked. So quick to state that he's a big boy the rest of the time, when facing a frustrated eye roll from Hubs or myself after leaving an enormous dump in his pants, The Boy says in a cute little voice, "but I'm little."

I've broached the subject of having The Boy go bare-bottomed for 3 days, as has been suggested by several friends, but Hubs puts his foot down - cringing at the thought of cleaning up poop from a corner of the living room.

My mother in law suggested putting him in underwear while he runs around in the back yard. There's also the tedious method of spending most of the day restraining him on the toilet - which I can't really do anymore anyway since I've got The Little Boy to think about.

I'm at such a loss. I know it's as common as anything, but it's seriously getting on my last nerve. I mean, what's so great about crapping in your pants? Seriously. It's an honest question.