Can you really potty train a 6 month old?

I was a psychology major in college.  I loved it too.  One particular thing that I haven't forgotten (my memory is like a steel trap) is the study this guy Maslow did and how he conditioned his dogs to salivate when they heard a ringing bell... er, I think it was Maslow.  Hold on, I'm going to google it... Okay... so Maslow was this other guy who talked about a heirarchy of needs (which of course I totally remember as if I sat in that class yesterday).  Pavlov was the guy with the dogs.  And really, I knew that all along.  I was just, um, I was just testing you guys.  Like I said, my memory is like a steel trap.  Anyway this guy Pavlov started ringing a bell right before he would feed his dogs.  They would salivate when they saw their food, then they started associating the bell sound with food, and eventually they would salivate just by hearing the bell, even if there was no food.  Amazing, huh?  Doggy drool!  So now there's this whole thing called Pavlovian Conditioning which I would thoroughly explain to you because I like know all about it (not really) but I think you should go study that stuff for yourself.

So, back to life in Turkey...

When Elise was a new baby I frequently visited a family down the street.  The mom often bragged to me about how she had potty trained her two youngest daughters by the time they were 5 months old. I would oooh and aaah on the outside and tell her how great that was, but on the inside I was secretly thinking, you're either a big fat liar or you have a horrible memory....  Three years and one baby later, my friend Neriman (who I'm convinced has a good memory and is definetly not a big fat liar) told me that lots of Turkish women, especially villagers who can't afford disposable diapers, potty train their babies around 6 months old.  

At the time, Marie was about 6 months old and I was sick of the potty training process that seems to have gone horribly wrong with Elise.  Neriman told me how they do it and I decided to potty train my 6 month old.  No more of this changing diapers till age 3 for me, I thought, I'm going to have this one trained before she can run away and say no! 

I set my mind to it and for about a week I worked hard to potty train Marie.  Neriman told me it would take about a month, but I only did it for a week.  That's how much determination, perseverance, and will power I have.... when I start something I really follow through and finish it... at least until I get tired of it.

Here's how it works.  Maybe someone out there who has more perseverance than me can try it out.  Maybe one of you can benefit from what I learned.  First you figure out the times your baby goes pee.  It's usually right when she wakes up, right after she eats, and a few other times.  Then you set her on the potty (or hold her over the Turkish toilet) during those times.  Now here's the important part... you have to say "Cheesh" with a long drawn out sh sound at the end.  Cheesh is how you say pee pee in Turkish.  And the word sounds like the sound of peeing, especailly when you really drag out that sh.  The baby hears the sound of peeing and goes pee.

Okay so if you follow these instructions then eventually you'll catch the baby enough times when she actually needs to go that she'll start associating sitting on the potty and especially hearing "cheesh" with going pee.  Then she'll just start holding it until she is surrounded by those pee pee inducing conditions and wah-lah!  She'll be potty trained.  Just like those dogs started drooling when they heard the bell, the baby will start peeing when she hears "cheesh."

So I worked faithfully at this Pavlovian conditioning type potty training with Marie for about a week and by the end of the week you know what had happened?  I held her over the Turkish toilet and said cheesh and she went... even if her diaper was already wet and she didn't have much to give, she would almost always at least let out a teeny little squirt!  She knew that cheesh was the command to pee.  It was really amazing!

Sounds great, right?  Well here's the problem and here's why I gave up.  This method of potty training is not for lazy people.  It's not for those people who like to lay in bed for a few minutes after they hear the baby wake up.  It's not for people who try to feed their toddler and their baby at the same time and linger a little too long in the kitchen after their baby's last bite.  Nope, it's for people who will pop out of bed the second they hear that baby wake up and get her on the potty.  It's for people who pay really close attention to when their baby has stopped eating and might possibly start pooping.  It's for people who immediately notice a little grimace on thier baby's face, or their baby stiffening their body up just a little indicating that the baby's doing some business down below and can immediately get her on the potty.  It takes that kind of determination to train her that the potty (not her diaper) is where she goes pee.  Even though I got Marie trained to go on command, I didn't stick with it long enough to train her not to go when she didn't hear the command.  

 At this point I just put Marie on the potty when I feel up to it.  She is far from being potty trained, but I'm hoping that my more lazy method will at least get her trained a little earlier than her sister (and that shouldn't be too unrealistic a goal since at the rate Elise is going, that will be the year 2048.)

I'm a horrible mother. Reason number 1 - bare feet

I'm at it again... risking my daughter's health by letting Elise go barefoot. 

 I'm such a bad mother!

My first encounter with the bare feet issue came a couple months after I arrived in Turkey.  Serap came to my house to help me practice Turkish.  I greeted her at the door wearing big pregnancy overalls, a sweatshirt, and (here's the important part) bare feet.  After giving me a kiss on both cheeks (Turkish greeting), she pointed to my feet and with a very concerned look started telling me something.  I couldn't speak Turkish yet. I didn't understand a single word, but something about my feet bothered her, so I decided to put on some slippers, and that ended it.  Maybe my feet stank?  

A couple weeks later my other language helper, Sumru, came over and I was barefoot.  Sumru knew a little English and with a frightened look on her face told me that what I was doing was very dangerous for the baby.  VERY DANGEROUS.  Of course I didn't want to hurt the baby growing in my belly so I asked her what this horrible thing I was doing was.  She told me I wasn't wearing socks.  She couldn't explain exactly how my bare feet would harm my baby, but since I could tell she was seriously frightened, I went and put on slippers.  Slippers weren't  safe enough for the baby, I needed socks too.  I put them on and we went on with our lesson.  From then on I tried to keep my water retaining pregnant feet covered when any Turk was around and that was that.

A couple months later Elise was born.  She was a cute little peanut, but colicky.  She cried in the morning.  She cried in mid-morning too.  She cried at noon and afternoon and late afternoon and evening and night.  Especially night.  Especially right after my eyes finally closed and I tried to sleep for the 345th time that night.  Hmmm....now that I think of it, I wonder if the colick had to do with the lack of sock usage during my pregnancy.  

I had language lessons while James tried to take care of her and sooth her in another room of the house.  As if I knew the answer and was just choosing not to do anything about it, my language helpers always asked what was wrong with the baby.  Every time they'd go check on her and find the source of the problem.  Socks.  I thought I understood that they were concerned that she was crying because her feet were too cold, but once again Sumru helped me understand things a bit more clearly.  One day before my lesson with Sumru because I didn't want to hear cold feet again, I put Elise into jammies with the feet in them.  Of course at some point during my language lesson Elise started crying.  Sumru stopped the lesson, and we brought out the baby for inspection.

Sumru: Is she wearing socks under those pajamas?

Me: Yes.  Okay, so she wasn't really and I totally lied, but I was soooooo tired of hearing that I wasn't keeping her feet warm enough and chose to lie rather than hear it for the 17 thousandth time that week. But hey, at least I'm being honest for you!

Sumru: What about booties?

Me: Um, booties under the jammies?

Sumru: Of course!

Me: No. My guilt from the first lie was already getting to me and I just couldn't do it again.

Sumru: Aha!  That's why she's crying.  She has gas.

Me: I don't understand.  I understood maybe she had gas, but what that had to do with her feet was beyond me.

Sumru: She needs to be wearing 3 layers on her feet at all time.

Me: I don't understand.

Sumru: Her feet got cold which gave her gas, which made her cry.

Me: Cold feet gave her gas?

Sumru: Of course!

Me: I didn't know that about babies. . . Do little molicules of air somehow get absorbed by the feet when they get too cold and go into the digestive system???  Have you seriously thought this through?  Okay so I didn't say that bit about the air... but I really wanted to.

Sumru:  Well, she also could have gas because you had bare feet which gave you gas, which got into your breastmilk, and that gave her gas.

Me: Wow, I'll have to be more careful. And I'll have to remember that my feet are like big sponges for air, which then must go into the bloodstream and wreak havoc throughout my body.  Okay, so I didn't say that part about my feet being sponges either, but I still wonder how she would have responded if I had.

From that day forward I tried to keep Elise's feet covered, I really did, but she was always pulling off socks and I got tired of trying to keep up.  I like going barefoot in my house and so I usually don't wear socks either, but ever since those conversations I've tried to keep some slippers by the door so that whenever I answer it my feet are covered.  I also try to run and put socks on Elise and Marie before guests come in.  

Here is a small smattering of the horrible things that happen to people who don't wear socks.  I've heard all of these, usually as warnings for what will happen to me or my children when people see us sockless (and I'm talking inside the house here people, not outside... we've never even risked that one).

1. You'll get sick (this is the most common, kind of a catch all)

2. You'll get a kidney infection.

3.  Your stomach will start to hurt.

4.  You will lose the ability to have children (your uterus freezes from what I've heard)

5.  Your back will hurt

6.  You may miscarry your baby

Any idea what reason number two is???

milk shake

So, I'm slowly working on explaining what makes me a horrible mother, but I'm not ready to post it yet.  I'm not sure I can bear the shame of exposing my failures and shortcomings.   I promise though, it will come soon.  While you wait I'd like to tell you about last night.

James and I went out to dinner.  As we were in the mood for something a bit more western, we chose a place in town called Park Cafe.  Even from the name you can probably tell that it's not your traditional Turkish fare.  It's got lots of American-ish food.  We arrived at the restaurant a little early so we perused the dessert menu in order to split a sweet treat before ordering the main meal. We narrowed down our choice to splitting a caramel hot chocolate or a milk shake.  James decided the milk shake was a little more fun, a little less common than hot chocolate so we went for it. He was right, you can't find a milk shake at too many restaurants in this country. I chose chocolate (the choices were chocolate, banana, or strawberry). 

Before I tell you about the milkshake that came to our table, you have to understand a couple of things. First, you have to understand that turkish food is delicious.  Really really great.  Second, you have to understand that if you want American food you're gonna have a hard time finding it outside of America.  And if you try to find it in Turkey you have to be ready for it to taste, well, to taste not quite right.  Maybe pizza wont have much sauce.  Maybe the ketchup is spicy.  We're used to those things and so last night we weren't really envisioning a nice thick milk shake like we'd find at Denny's or Chilli's or even McDonalds, but even with low expectations we were shocked and disappointed at what came to our table.

Chocolate milk.  Nestle's Quick.  You know, the kind with that bunny on the package of powder.  That's what we got.  The one difference is that it was a bit frothy, as if it had been shaken together then poured into the glass it was served in.  A milk shake.  Shaken milk with chocolate powder.  For about four dollars.  Yes way. Turkish food is cheap, but if you want American food you often have to pay quite a bit for it,  apparently even for shaken milk.  After it came to our table I remembered seeing Nestle's Quick in strawberry, banana, or chocolate flavor at the grocery store a few days ago, so the flavor choices suddenly made sense.  James took one sip then threw his straw into the ash tray in disgust.  I drank the whole thing hoping that somehow, somewhere in that glass I'd find a little bit or ice cream, or maybe just a few ice chunks that would redeem things for me.  All I found was chocolate milk, straight to the very last sip.

 You know, the menu didn't lie.  We ordered a milkshake and that's exactly what we got... shaken milk.  Now we know.

Fun Photos from Ephesus

"Only 50 cents is enough to feel the magic atmosphere."

Wow!  Does anybody have 50 cents I can borrow???  What a deal!

Gary is checking out the watches.... Wow, that's one nice looking Rolex.  And genuine too.... er... maybe.