We potty trained our son early, when he was twenty-two months old, and he took to it very well.  Within a week he was peeing in his little Bjorn potty, and three weeks later, doing his other business in there too. It took a little longer for him to feel comfortable peeing in bathrooms outside our house.  What we did is take along a portable version of the Bjorn potty, which we would throw in a bulky backpack.  Not only was it something familiar in an unfamiliar environment, which eased our son’s stage fright, but we had something we could whip out any time, any place, when there was no bathroom in sight.

But then, Dad got tired of carrying that backpack around and instead started holding our son suspended over regular toilets. When one of those weren’t handy, he started teaching our son to pee standing up next to the closest bush or tree.

I was thrilled because in fairly secluded areas outdoors, I could just walk our two-and-a half-year old son to a tree, pull his pants down, hold up his penis for him, and voila, the business was done, simple as that.

My son liked this too.  He was enthralled.  So much so that he’s started trying to do it on his own, whenever he feels the urge.  This morning in Golden Gate Park, for example, we were walking back to our car when he stopped in the middle of the road, pulled his pants down, and just stared at his penis waiting for action, his arms at his side.  I had just enough time to whisk him to the side of the road and lift his penis. 

He whined, “No, Mama, no, Mama,” wanting to do it himself.

I certainly don’t mind, and in fact encourage, this bold new step in his learning and independence.  But how do you teach a toddler that unlike the portable potty, his penis is not something he can whip out any place, any time?  How do I teach him to do it properly?

Of course, there’s nothing to do but nudge him in the right direction and patiently wait for him to learn.  In the meantime, I hope the public doesn’t mind, if, for example, they find a cute, little boy peeing on their lawn.

By Cindy Bailey