I bet, before the Fall, kids just automatically knew how to use the toilet. "That's absurd!" you say, "there weren't toilets in the Garden of Eden!" and maybe you're right. But neither one of us know for sure, so, checkmate. Or something.
Look, I hate potty humor, potty talk in general. If it were up to me, topics relating to elimination would just be one of those sacred things you talk to your doctor or midwife or shaman about, and the rest of the time it is just mysterious, ethereal, the magic of waste. Like the way I explain childbirth to my children, because clearly I am a concerned and involved parent. "God makes the baby grow inside the mommy," I say, mysteriously, "and then the doctor helps get the baby out." And then they ask more questions and I give everyone candy and firecrackers and that changes the subject.
I know, I know. Reproduction is such a magical part of life and I need to share it with my children. I will, you know. I'm gonna find a video where Elmo breaks it down. "This is the fallopian tube ha ha ha! Let's ask a baby about the uterus!"
But back to my original topic: I don't want to talk about poop. Well, then, maybe you're saying, just don't. The thing is, that's like half my life, people and animals pooping and me coping with it. If I skipped this topic, I would just go silent for months.
The parenting books tell you lots of things, and, like diets and exercise and building a fortune, if you just went down the checklist and did every detail, it would probably work. The trouble is, details are hard.
I potty train children like I'm reading the instruction manual in a tunnel and only have intermittent light. "...start ... during stressful times ...Consistency ...not successful... panic about accidents..."
Sometimes I buy musical dancing potty seats that applaud and bags of candy and stickers and prizes, sometimes I just strip the kid down and try cold turkey and then the whole campaign derails and I put the kid back in a diaper and decide to try again in a year. I keep hoping I'm gonna land a kid who just figures it out by themselves, like I've heard about in fairy tales and on babycenter.
In the meantime, you can re-read my Laws of Moses to Mothers of Toddlers and pray for my soul, and also for my floor.