Earlier this summer, one of the most insane periods of our lives, Kaleia initiated potty training. Running late for a flight or as my brother's wedding ceremony was starting, Kaleia, with aggravating cuteness, would say "n'go potty." I would use every stall tactic and distraction I could think of. "Let's look over here! Do you see any babies? You don't need to use the potty, you have a diaper on," I heard myself say. Oh no, what I am saying?! I am going to miss a window of potty training opportunity, she is going to get used to having a diaper and be the only kid in elementary school still not potty trained!
But I couldn't bring myself to start. Every 10 days or so we were relocating, often to hotels where accidents on the floor might be more than annoying, they could get expensive, and I didn't have any of my home-base cleaning supplies. If I get her potty trained now, she'll just revert back to diapers anyway due to the transition to a new country...
Upon arriving in Beijing, Kaleia's campaign to use the potty intensified. Newly reunited with my parenting partner, Brian and I decided to start obliging her, but definitely still keep her in diapers. We were still living in temporary housing and had so many pressing basic needs to attend to.
A favorite movie in our household right now is Monsters, Inc. There is a scene where the little girl Boo sits on the potty for what seems like a long time to Sully, the big blue monster. Boo happily sings as he asks "are you done yet?" We went through weeks of this. Each time waiting for nothing to happen.
Then, shortly after we moved into our new apartment and she unpacked her new panties, Kaleia had success.
At home she's doing pretty well. Out in China is another story. I find myself reverting back to my old ways. "Let's put these plastic pants on over your panties just in case you have an accident" or in case Mama can't find a bathroom to take you to that doesn't totally gross her out.
Most of the public restrooms are "squatters." This is a clean one. I won't subject you to the rest. Holding a toddler up over one of these is not easy.
Which is maybe why Chinese parents don't bother. With split pants you can go ANYWHERE.
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| Who lives in a pineapple under the pee? |
When you arrive in a new city, across an ocean, in a new country with a drastically different culture, it’s a little like playing The Legend of Zelda for the first time. You can look at a map of the terrain ahead of time, which helps a little, but it gives you no sense of what it’s like on the ground. (You just don’t know, for example, which old woman will give you the potion you need, or, in this case, which potion won’t put you on the toilet for the next 24 hours.)
Shannon and I, in our first week or so, felt like we only knew a tiny portion of the greater landscape, like we were on some sort of training level, acquiring the basic skills. This is where you get water, this is how you pay for it. This might be an okay breakfast food, these crackers taste like fish. 
Once we finally found an apartment and moved across the city (to Chaoyang District), Shannon said she felt like she was having to redo the first level every time she took the subway back to Haidian. I felt like my mental game map of the Beijing Adventure was oddly pocketed. My personal Beijing map would show three nodes (Tsinghua International School, Wudaokou’s main drag, and the Ocean Express apartments in Sanyuanqiao), each with odd little tendrils showing where I had walked, and all connected by long subway lines or bus rides. Everything else on the very large map was totally blacked out (like the dungeons in Zelda). 
