Recently I read a funny article by Amber Dusick who, like me, hates taking her child to the public restroom.  She implored mothers to keep their children in diapers for as long as possible.  Like her, once my daughter was potty-trained, I secretly wished that my daughter was still in diapers.  Similar to most parents, I could not wait for my daughter to potty train.  I thought that it would be much easier once she was out of diapers, and initially, it was. 

Firstly, I didn’t have to find a private spot to change her (which is nearly impossible in a public place, hence the term "public", not to mention the dirty looks you get when your child’s diaper stinks to high heaven or when you change the diaper in public—you just can’t win either way).  Secondly, I didn’t have to lug around nearly a Target aisle’s worth of items used in diaper changing.  Diapers take up a lot of room and then you need a changing pad (to avoid contaminating whatever surface you find to change the diaper and to keep that surface from contaminating your child’s surface), creams, powder, wipes, disposal bags, and all the necessities needed to clean your child’s surface.  Thirdly, changing diapers is simply not fun—it stinks.  However, in all honesty, we parents are too anxious to get our kids out of diapers, because once they are out of diapers we have to contend with…the public restroom. 

I thought I was the only parent paranoid of the public restroom…well, me and my germaphobic friend, but she has an excuse.  I figured it was because I am a nurse and I am acutely aware of how contaminated every surface is in the restroom.  Either way, I have always personally hated using public restrooms and once my daughter was out of diapers, I absolutely loathed them and having to take her to use them rather than just swapping out a diaper.  What a big mistake to be in such a rush.  I was relieved to find after reading Dusick's article that I wasn’t the only woman worried about contaminating my daughter’s little tush with “who-knows-what” and have since learned about all of the unusual measures that mothers take to avoid the potty germs. 

For those of you without a child or without a child out of diapers yet, here is the issue with public restrooms.  Aside from the obvious hygiene issues, public toilets are uncharacteristically raised off the ground, higher than those at home.  Disabled toilets are made this way in order to accommodate people with hip replacements which, despite having more room to work, makes them even more difficult to use, but even the regular toilets are made for 6 feet tall people.  Now, because I have a girl I will refer to the issues that girls have with the toilet, but according to Dusick, even the little boys who don’t need to touch the toilet have their own set of challenges.  I personally find it hard to squat over, but imagine someone half my height attempting the toilet squat (I’m 5’1”—although my husband insists that I’m only 5 feet—I argue that fact because every inch counts for me).  So once my daughter was out of diapers, it was impossible for my daughter to squat and even now that she’s 50 inches tall, it’s still too difficult.  My husband tried it recently with a porta potty.  Fortunately she had a skirt on because they came home with plastic bag in hand filled with her shorts and undies.  So squatting is out for several years yet.  Therefore, as a concerned mother, I have had to figure out how to help her avoid sitting on that oval Petri dish.  It has taken some time, but I've gotten the process down fairly well now—of course, I have had several years to refine it, the early years were not so easy. 

The first time I took my daughter into a public toilet, I had a bit of a panic attack.  I have to confess something—the first several times she used a public toilet, my husband took her.  I avoided it at all costs, but I knew that I would eventually face the dreaded task at some point.  He had it fairly easy.  Being 6’4” he would just hold her over the toilet, no risk of tushy touch, she barely touched the floor.  But being 5’1” with a bad back and a daughter with bones made of lead, holding her over the toilet was not in the cards for me.  I had anticipated ahead of time:  wipe down the toilet then place the liner…easy right?  Unfortunately over the years, I discovered it was never that easy and every time I thought I had the potty dance down, a new hurdle would present itself.  Let me explain:

*not only do you need to wipe down the toilet seat, but you need to wipe down the side of the seat and the front of the toilet because the child will grab the sides to steady herself and although you try to make her sit with her legs straight out (try peeing with your legs straight out), her legs will touch the front of the toilet.  I am constantly saying, “keep your legs out, don’t touch the side of the toilet, hold your dress, put your hands in your lap, don’t touch your face”.  Add to that, try keeping your legs straight out while your bending forward as you are wiping.  It is a feat with which even a contortionist might have trouble.

*a similar problem arises after pulling down her pants and trying to maneuver her onto the seat—trying to keep the clothes from slipping down to the floor and turning into a sponge and at the same time from rubbing up against the front of the toilet.  It doesn’t seem like a problem, but given the fact that her little legs are barely as tall as the toilet, there isn’t enough distance between her legs and the toilet.  She kind of has to hop backwards off her feet onto her bottom—the hop and plop.

*you have spent half an hour wiping down the seat and positioning the liner, getting her ready to do the balancing act and you find half the liner has fallen into the toilet.  She is ready to let go and you’ve got to get another liner out.

*along the same lines, if you have a small child, you have to insure that small bootie doesn’t fall into that bowl of bacteria (refer to Dusick’s article for more information regarding this issue).

*if liners are not available you have to use squares of tissue paper, carefully placed along the seat.  Don’t breath because if one piece falls, it pulls all the others along like dominoes.  The child has to very carefully sit down (which means the hop and plop won’t work) so as not to disturb the meticulously placed pieces.  Then you have to insure that nothing has stuck to the bottom of her…well, bottom. 

*while you are so carefully preparing her seating area, you have to keep an eye on the subject as she will use her body as a dust cloth, wiping her body along the walls of the stall, or she will ultimately find something of questionable origin on the floor ("look mommy, it sparkles") or she will decide that what is happening next door is more exciting than what is going on in here. 

*you had better have a large bladder yourself because if you attempt to use the toilet after her, she will continue her search of more sparklies while you are left struggling, "don't pick that up, put that back in my purse, stop tapping me on the head, get off the floor...!!"

*and the fun doesn’t end after you have left the restroom.  If your daughter is like mine, she’ll want to tap dance on the back of the car seat, analyze the composition of her shoe soles, and any other number of things that allow transfer of the unknown substances that have been acquired from the restroom floor which is why I carry a box of wipies in the car and we have always been a shoes-off household. 

*porta potties—well, they are a whole other beast and I have yet to develop a solid method of tackling them without having to burn my daughter’s clothing afterward and washing her down with Clorox. 

And for some reason, my daughter is like a Pavlov dog when it comes to public restrooms.  Every time we enter a public restroom just to wash her hands and sometimes when we just pass one and she sees that beckoning blue sign, my daughter instantly feels the need to urinate despite having used the restroom five minutes before.  I have come to consider which is more inconvenient:  having to use the bathroom or getting sick from not washing her hands.  I tend to think it’s worth the risk of illness if we can avoid the bathroom all together. 

When my daughter was first out of diapers, we had a travel potty in the back of the car.  It was a bit of a hassle to set up but it was a Godsend in several pinches when we didn’t have access to a restroom.  And I will be honest, it was a great alternative to the restroom of a questionable looking gas station or grocery store.  I miss that little potty—I sometimes wonder if my daughter could perhaps hover over that little plastic hole.  Hmmm, diapers and travel potties…those were the days.