The little guy became officially potty trained back in September. I was so relieved he finally hit this milestone, I could have opened a bottle of champagne. If ever there was a moment to celebrate, this was it! He was a bit old to be getting the hang of handling his own bathroom duties, so my joy was equivalent to how I imagine I'd feel if I hit it big at the horse races.
Not only was he finally taking care of his own business, he became an enthusiastic hand washer at the same time. It became part of his bathroom process right away. Again, more relief on my part. My two older boys had to be coaxed to wash their hands at that age. The little guy, though, jumped into it with gusto!
So much gusto, in fact, he used it to pump the soap dispenser with all his might several times during each hand washing. If a little soap is good, then a lot of soap must be better! This is all tongue in check, of course. He was having fun with it and I didn't much care as long as he got the job done.
But, I soon realized soap was running down the drain like we were billionaires without a care in the world. I took control of the soap dispenser, only giving him a little bit at a time. I became the soap Nazi. It wasn't pretty. Do you know what happens when you take control over things kids can and should be doing themselves? Frustration. Tears. Tantrums. I envisioned our potty training success back sliding over the soap issue.
Then, I did this:
Pretty neat, huh? Again, I have to thank Pinterest. They really ought to start paying me. A bottle of champagne would be fine.