We're going through kind of a crazy phase with Sariah right now. A few months ago it was the "is she ever going to stop having multiple accidents a day?" phase. Now it's the "are we ever going to be able to walk through a store without getting our own tour of the public restroom?" phase. If I ever had a phobia about public restrooms, it's gone now!
The really annoying thing is, 2/3 of the time, once we actually get in there and sit on the potty, she sits there for a moment doing nothing, smiles sweetly, and says, "I don't have any peepee in there." So now, when she says she has to go, it's anybody's guess as to whether she really does or not. But of course, with an almost-3-year-old, you don't dare take your chances, so you dutifully trek across the entire store and find a place to park your cart, hoping nobody steals it, just in case this time there really might be a full bladder.
The last few times we've made the 25-mile drive to Salt Lake, we've had to stop the car, drag her into the nearewst gas station, and--voila!--find out that she doesn't really need to go potty after all. The latest incident was yesterday afternoon. Luckily, when she sounded the warning cry, we were just coming up on the last exit with a gas station before a 10+ mile stretch of "nowhere". We were already late getting out of the house, as usual, so I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to make an extra stop, but I figured an extra stop was better than a wet car seat, so I pulled in and we all hopped out. Sure enough, she sat down on the seat, waited a minute, and finally admitted, sheepishly, "I don't have to go potty."
So back to the van we trudged. We got on the freeway, and not two miles later, I hear from the back seat, "I have to go potty!" I ignored her for a few minutes, thinking that if she forgot about it, then I'd know it wasn't for real. But shortly after, I heard once again, a bit more urgently, "I have to go potty!!" OK, we're at least 10 miles from the next gas station. "You'll have to wait!", I called cheerfully, trying to make her believe that she really could wait 10 miles. "Turn around, Mommy, go back to the potty!", was her reply. Now what to do?? I was NOT turning around. Our only hope was that a mile or so up ahead was an isolated side road. If I could pull off onto that little road and drive up a bit, maybe I could find some privacy in some tall weeds along the shoulder and see if we could get her business done before another car passed by. I wasn't excited about this idea, and I wasn't sure if she would completely freak out about it, but like I said, I wasn't excited about cleaning pee off of the carseat either.
And then, intervention from heaven! As we pulled of the main highway onto this smaller road, Dallin exclaimed, "Hey Mom, it's an outhouse!" And sure enough, right there in the middle of nowhere, was a Porta-Potty! What are the odds?? OK, so it wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere. The blessed bathroom sat just outside a chain link fence with a gate plastered with signs that said, "Restricted area! Authorized personnel only!" Luckily us, the potty was just outside that gate and not just inside it. Double lucky for us, because Sariah used that potty, then Dallin said he had to go, and then Sariah used it again!
So, just so you know... if you're ever traveling between my town and the big city on state highway 201, and you have a child who needs to go to the bathroom--look out for the porta potty just off the road! I'm sure it was really put there for Kennecott workers, but I have to wonder if we're the only desperate family of a potty-putter-offer who has ever felt like God was smiling down upon them when they saw it in the distance.
And yep, Sariah had one more false alarm on that trip.
The really annoying thing is, 2/3 of the time, once we actually get in there and sit on the potty, she sits there for a moment doing nothing, smiles sweetly, and says, "I don't have any peepee in there." So now, when she says she has to go, it's anybody's guess as to whether she really does or not. But of course, with an almost-3-year-old, you don't dare take your chances, so you dutifully trek across the entire store and find a place to park your cart, hoping nobody steals it, just in case this time there really might be a full bladder.
The last few times we've made the 25-mile drive to Salt Lake, we've had to stop the car, drag her into the nearewst gas station, and--voila!--find out that she doesn't really need to go potty after all. The latest incident was yesterday afternoon. Luckily, when she sounded the warning cry, we were just coming up on the last exit with a gas station before a 10+ mile stretch of "nowhere". We were already late getting out of the house, as usual, so I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to make an extra stop, but I figured an extra stop was better than a wet car seat, so I pulled in and we all hopped out. Sure enough, she sat down on the seat, waited a minute, and finally admitted, sheepishly, "I don't have to go potty."
So back to the van we trudged. We got on the freeway, and not two miles later, I hear from the back seat, "I have to go potty!" I ignored her for a few minutes, thinking that if she forgot about it, then I'd know it wasn't for real. But shortly after, I heard once again, a bit more urgently, "I have to go potty!!" OK, we're at least 10 miles from the next gas station. "You'll have to wait!", I called cheerfully, trying to make her believe that she really could wait 10 miles. "Turn around, Mommy, go back to the potty!", was her reply. Now what to do?? I was NOT turning around. Our only hope was that a mile or so up ahead was an isolated side road. If I could pull off onto that little road and drive up a bit, maybe I could find some privacy in some tall weeds along the shoulder and see if we could get her business done before another car passed by. I wasn't excited about this idea, and I wasn't sure if she would completely freak out about it, but like I said, I wasn't excited about cleaning pee off of the carseat either.
And then, intervention from heaven! As we pulled of the main highway onto this smaller road, Dallin exclaimed, "Hey Mom, it's an outhouse!" And sure enough, right there in the middle of nowhere, was a Porta-Potty! What are the odds?? OK, so it wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere. The blessed bathroom sat just outside a chain link fence with a gate plastered with signs that said, "Restricted area! Authorized personnel only!" Luckily us, the potty was just outside that gate and not just inside it. Double lucky for us, because Sariah used that potty, then Dallin said he had to go, and then Sariah used it again!
So, just so you know... if you're ever traveling between my town and the big city on state highway 201, and you have a child who needs to go to the bathroom--look out for the porta potty just off the road! I'm sure it was really put there for Kennecott workers, but I have to wonder if we're the only desperate family of a potty-putter-offer who has ever felt like God was smiling down upon them when they saw it in the distance.
And yep, Sariah had one more false alarm on that trip.
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