Potty Training a Penis

Potty Training A Penis -

I'm a "girl"!!  I can "do" girls.  I'm up for it!  I know how they think, act, and most of all I know how they PEE.  I know all the nuances that goes along with being a female and the potty process that goes on with us for life.  So I barely remember the potty training process with my first child, a girl.  It was that easy. 

My next however was going to be a boy and knowing ahead of time didn't prepare me one bit.   UH OH.  Now what the hell am I going to do with a boy?  I don't know a darn thing about them.  Immediately all of the ribbons and bows and pretty dresses I had saved for my "next" were dry rotting in my imagination and my attic. 

But worse, all I could think about was that he was going to have a penis.  Oh, and the rest of his "boy stuff" that goes with it.  But it was mostly the thought that he was going to have a penis and that I was going to have to take care of it for him for about two years that totally freaked me out. It gets worse.  Then I have to teach him how to do it so I don't have to anymore.  Geezus!!!  I have to do something I don't know how to do and then teach him something I don't know. 

Dad?  YEAH right.  Unless it involves something that starts and ends with "That's my boy!!", I'm on my own as a mom when it comes to "whatever you do" with "whatever he's got".

Well, to my credit I certainly called that one when it came to Dad.  It just so happens he had bragging rights when he first saw him.  Though he wasn't rude enough to say it in the delivery room, he certainly bit his tongue with "That's my BOY!!" when he first saw that my son was blessed with the BIGGEST penis I thought a baby could ever have.  GREAT.  Not only do I have to take care of this, but geezus, did there have to be so much of it??  Maybe it's just something to do with a newborn boy - I don't know.  I told you this was my first and if I had anything to do with it, I may never want to see another penis again.  Not from having another child and certainly not from the man that participated in the creation of this penis child to begin with. 

I'm just suddenly not into this strange appendage now that I have a child and he has one.  I must have worried so much while pregnant about this growing penis child inside me and that made it overgrow! My penis worry was like penis fertilizer or something!  Ok.  So now it's my own fault.  Like I said, not having any experience with boys, maybe they are all like that when they are born.  Some kind of birth swelling or something?  Hell I don't know. 

But there's no time for worrying about it now.  I have to take care of it.  (Right after Dad takes a picture of it which now adays they would put you in jail for that but at the time, he only did it because he was just in awe - and envy).   Well, all my worries were for nothing I guess.  At least for a while.  Other than dodging the darn thing each time I changed a diaper to keep from having to wash my hair each time the firehose fired up, I was doing fine.  UNTIL. 

Suddenly, it's just that time where potty training has to be started and I have no earthly clue, when sitting a little boy on the potty ( I did at least realize not to start with the standing up pee yet) what to do with the damned thing.  Now all pottys seem to be generic even though some had a few more bells and whistles.  But there's no penis directions on the potty itself ( I searched the box, the plastic wrapper and every inch of the potty itself for anything that would tell me what to do if there's a penis involved.)  But when sitting him on the potty it was very apparent that the potty I bought had to be missing something. 

It had to be missing something.  What.  Because as endowed as my son might have been there was no keeping it IN the potty while he sat there.  To keep him occupied while I figured it out, I gave him a book.  Back to the box and still stuck in there was a snap on cup thing.  GREAT!  Except you had to put it on each time because if you left it on, he would actually WRECK himself trying to rush and sit down OVER the cup thing.  Piss poor design (forgive the really bad pun here).  But I managed and Potty training went pretty well until it was time for the DAD part which came very soon after we just started the "sit there and read a book and call me when you're done part". 

Now this was just not something I could do. Teaching the "standing pee".  I can't do it.  I don't want to do it and the one time I tried to do it myself at this really nasty campground bathroom, I not only peed all over myself, but I slipped while doing it and fell in my own pee, because you just can't spread your legs enough to stand over a nasty toilet and pee with your pants still ON.  (Another story that I probably will never elaborate on except to say I didn't catch any fish on that camping trip either and I will never go camping again - roughing it for me now is no room service).

So after all these many months of teaching and training and caring for this little penis, I have to turn it over to Dad and I must say, I was nervous.  I wanted him to do it and do it right and make it a really great thing so I never have to help him with this when Dad isn't around.  Besides, don't boys have one of those extra ladder thingies on their male chromozone gene widget that's a "pee anywhere" gene? You know.  The "pee on any bush" gene.  The "mark my territory" gene.

Well, Dad takes him in our master bath for his first "big boy pee" as Dad called it, with me hovering just outside the open bathroom door, backseat driving the whole thing even  though I wasn't watching and I had no driver's license for this sort of thing.  But I can now hear them both, standing there together at the toilet, with DAD teaching by example.  Ok, that was his idea but if it worked I was ok with that.  The "boys" peeing together.

All is quiet other than the mutual splash, when suddenly my two year old says (in his little boy voice that I can't quite mimic in type)... "Daddy? Why doth your penith have a muthstache".

I gave my son icecream for his first standing pee, and extra sprinkles just for saying that because I knew that I was going to tell this story one day, after telling his wife about it first.  (Ok, so I told you first but if he gets married I'll tell her too.  Hell, maybe I DID tell his prom date though so you may be the second to hear it.)

But from that day forward, I never ever ever had to take take of my son's penith.. uh I mean penis, or anything that had to do with it.  I was DONE.  Finished.  Yee haaawww!! Wait.

I'm LYING.

Now you KNOW I'm lying about that last part.  At least when it comes to PEE training because then there is the toilet seat etiquette, the "NOT FLUSHING is not an option" training, the "clean it up if you make a mess" training"... and this training goes on for many many more years.  Just ask Dad.  He probably still hasn't graduated that class yet and he swears I used to hover outside the door when he went too just so I could rush in afterwards and inspect, but I swear it's only because I had to pee too.  The bitching afterwards was just a bonus.