Friday, May 5, 2006

Meet Chicken

Guess what?

Tommy finally decided that he'd pee in the potty.

I'd like to say that he just decided that it was his time or maybe, perhaps, he got tired of his mother constantly following him around asking if he needed to pee.

But no.

What I had to do is bribe and bribe and bribe.

And create a talking chicken with my fingers.

What is a talking chicken you might ask?

Here it is:

My Dad, he stayed home with me while my Mom worked. He would make chicken fingers and this amused me. He'd do it while we had to wait and he'd do it before he dropped me off at school.

"Do the chicken, Daddy!" I'd beg and he'd oblige. I'd collapse into a fit of giggles and think that he was the greatest.

I decided to do the chicken with Tommy when he had been sitting on the potty for over twenty minutes and nothing was happening. At this point he didn't seem to care much for the bribe. He just sat on the potty, pants around his ankles, staring me right in the eye. His expression clearly said, "Screw this, Mom. Screw this." He was waiting for me to back down.

Then I brought out the chicken. I formed it with my fingers and made it look at Tommy.

"Hello Tommy," said the chicken.

Tommy looked confused at first. His eyes grew as big as saucers and he swallowed hard. He didn't know what to make of this creature.

"I think you should go pee. Then you get to pick a toy! Won't that be fun?" the chicken asked.

A small smile began to form on Tommy's face. Then a giggle escaped his lips.

"So how about you pee for me?" the chicken questioned.

And guess what?

The little stinker peed!

At first it frightened him. The sensation of letting go. His first impulse was to jump up but I told him it was okay. What he'd do is squeeze out some pee. Stop. Look at the chicken and wait for the chicken to cheer. Then pee some more. Stop. Look at the chicken and wait for the chicken to cheer.

It took probably five minutes for all the pee to come out.

But he did it!

He peed!

He got a big kick out of the chicken cheering and dancing around. I was cheering as well, obviously, but he didn't care that Mommy was pleased. He cared that the chicken was opening and closing his mouth, cheering and whooping, calling Tommy a big boy, such a big boy.

He's peed four times in the potty. All because of this chicken finger.

Now he wants the chicken all the time. He thinks it's funny of the chicken tries to steal his snacks. He thinks it's funny how the chicken talks. Heck, he doesn't want to talk to Mommy. If I try to talk he covers my mouth and goes,

"Chicken please!"

Chicken indeed.

He likes the chicken to say goodbye to him when his car picks him up from school. I had strapped him in the carseat and kissed him on the cheek. Tommy kept eyeing my hand.

"Chicken please! Chicken! Bye bye, Chicken."

The car driver's eyebrows shot up at this. I had to explain what he was talking about. I showed the driver and she laughed and went, "How clever!"

I read that sometimes you should talk to children with a hand puppet if they won't listen to you. Because there's a good chance that they'll listen to the hand puppet. In our case it's the chicken.

I am so incredibly pleased that Tommy is using the potty. He'd probably use it more but sometimes I put him in Pull Ups during the morning or when we go out. By the summer I'll get rid of the Pulls Ups all together (or maybe just keep it during the night.)

I still can't believe that a chicken hand thing helped him to pee.

Tomorrow he has his four year appointment. He's getting two shots which he's not happy about. I already informed him that yes, he'd be getting shots. Because he asked. When I told him we had to see the doctor he went,

"A shot?" with wide eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry, you'll have to get two," I explained.

"Oh no. Ouch! A band-aid?" Tommy asked seriously.

"Yes, you'll get a band-aid. And maybe even a sticker if you're a good boy," I replied.

Tommy just gave a big sigh and muttered, "Ouch."


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