Although Little Nabi has been ready, and eager, I might add, to start potty training for a while now, we the parents have been reluctant to give up the convenience of diapers. So we have been doing the Spotty Potty Training, a.k.a. "if she asks to sit on it, sigh a big sigh, take her upstairs to the bathroom, wait around while she forgets why she's sitting on the potty, wait some more, follow the bare bottoms around while the toddler muses on other things, return her to the potty hastily as pee or poo starts to rear (no pun intended) its drippy head" method.
We're going to bite the bullet and start. Today. Or maybe tomorrow. Or perhaps it'd be simpler to do it during the weekend since I will be home all day and night and Papa Nabi seems somewhat squeamish about the whole ordeal transition. Definitely some day before she turns sixteen.
All light-hearted bravado aside, I am concerned that she will more than likely be still in transition while we're traveling in the fall. I suspect there will be some accidents and even a few laughters, probably in retrospect.
So, thinking of Korea and potty training, I remembered that I was having accidents even in school. In fact, many. (Yes, I am aware that this revelation may come back to bite me in the rear end some day, e.g. LN's friends find this post and send her home with Depends or call her Daughter of the Leaky or whatever.) I also remembered that much of it had to do with being afraid of the teacher because she yelled at anyone who raised his/her hand to be excused for a bathroom break. I guess I preferred to create a puddle under my chair than be yelled at.
Fear and humiliation. I believe they are neither the best nor the kindest instigators of dry bottoms. In fact, another thing that popped in my head was salt. If you wet your yo (Korean mattress), they said that you drew a "map" - and your parents sent you to the neighbors to beg for salt. If that weren't humiliating enough, you had to wear this large bamboo-woven rice sifter on your head as you begged for that salt.
I believe the salt was to ward off something or another...? But why the rice sifter on your head? A specific fashion statement that says, "I peed my yo; I'm steeped (again, no pun intended) in humility"?
It was a tough call... but I opted for a package of Pull-Ups training diapers over googling for a rice sifter to buy. Of course, if we utterly fail, you may see "Wanted: Asian style rice-sifter big enough for a toddler to wear over her head" ad somewhere on Craigslist.
Wish us luck. We're getting serious... maybe not today... but most probably this weekend. Really.
-Mama Nabi
