Segullah Tabernacles coverI’ve spent the last four days attempting to potty train my son. He is tired of diapers. I myself am not tired of them. We can do diapers for another year, as far as I’m concerned, but he wanted underwear so we gave it a go. My son is doing fairly well, but he’s now in a limbo where he neither wants to go to the potty nor wear diapers anymore.

It is a limbo that lends itself to power struggles. He is a tender little guy and I don’t want to battle with him over every time he clearly needs to go, so we may return to diapers tomorrow and try again in a little while. It’s not worth the tears to me (before you tell me what worked for you, I will tell you that I have three fully potty-trained older children, and I also own four potty-training books and an overpriced .pdf. I’ve read all the methods and tried various ones, and in the end the only one that has worked for me is to let my kids get old enough that they want to wear underwear more than they want a convenient place to pee. That turns out to be around four. I know. But I’m not alone–I have long remembered and taken some solace in this excellent blog post by Josi Kilpack.).

When I step back and stop whining about it, potty training is grounding for me, in a weird way. It’s all those earthy bodily wastes that we clean and sanitize away, blood and urine and sweat, coming back and insisting that I notice them. It’s the real world, demanding that I pay attention. The child who tells me proudly to come see his poop (which I do, because that pooping in the potty moment is one of deep gratitude for me) still has a sense of awe at what this body of his can do. I see his glee and joy when he stays dry. He’s learning to listen to his body in the most basic way. It’s a little silly and melodramatic to philosophize over potty training, perhaps, but it’s keeping me sane to think about the larger picture: he came to earth to get a body, and he’s controlling it now.

Which reminds me of these lines from one of my all-time favorite editorials from Segullah’s journal, Kathy Soper’s introduction to our Tabernacles issue from 2007:

Those little toddler bodies which spew fluids of all kinds also provide the most exquisite snuggles. Our own flesh, even the flabby, doughy flesh we often despise, is a soft solace for others. Our hands which wither and wrinkle with age are powerful instruments of expression, creativity, and service. And most importantly, every part of us is a receptacle for God’s spirit. The very movement of our bodies, no matter what their size or shape, can be a prayer.

Let us celebrate these bodies of ours—these pudgy, bony, stinky, sensuous, frail, mighty, beautiful tabernacles we’ve been given.

If you’ve never read our back issues, that’s a great one to check out.

If anyone else out there is potty training, know that you are not alone. Good luck and patience to us all!


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