Procrastiurination

I’m not sure how many of you know this, but our 3-year old daughter suffers from an acute condition known as Procrastiurination.

In laymen terms, it’s the act of denying the existence and purpose of your bladder until you find yourself involuntarily clutching your privates and performing a lively number from Riverdance to prevent a cataclysmic urinary breach.

As adults, we’ve had years to determine our urinary thresholds. Meaning, we know how much time we have from initial sensation to potential embarrassment depending on our location. For me, my threshold is about six hours if I’m watching sporting events and about 45 seconds if I enter a library or book store. Maybe it’s the aroma of bindings or pages I’ll never read, but if I stand next to literature for any length of time, it’s like I choked down an entire bottle of diuretics.

Still, I know when I have to pee. There’s a little sensation that says, “Dude. You have to pee.” I then know that I should be on the lookout for a toilet, tree, or neighboring lawn to relieve the pressure.

Children, on the other hand, haven’t yet mastered bladder awareness or urinary control. Why? Because they never had to. Just mere months ago they were in diapers and the only sensation that spoke to them was the one that said, “Dude. You just peed.”

Just because a child is potty-trained doesn’t mean they’re bladder-trained. They’d rather play with their toys or watch cartoons than be bothered with a 30-second stint in the bathroom. With bladders the size of chickpeas you’d think they’d realize that the trips, while plentiful, will be short. I just think they’re so engrossed in their interesting stress-free lives that they can’t bear to break away long enough to satisfy the urge.

Kamryn knows how to go to the bathroom. She also knows when she has to go to the bathroom. She just refuses to do so until it’s an absolute catastrophe waiting to happen. Perhaps it’s the way we’re phrasing the question. If I turn to her and say “Kamryn, do you have to go to the bathroom?”, she’ll impulsively reply with a “No.” Even if she’s throttling her heehaw like it’s trying to escape.

If you think about her answer, she’s right, she’s just being honest. I suppose she really doesn’t HAVE to go pee. She should, but she doesn’t HAVE to. It’s only when the body starts without her that the reality hits. And therein lies the frustration.

In adults, the cycle is simple:

1. Your body senses it needs to pee.

2. You go pee.

In children, the cycle is a little more drawn out:

1. Your body senses it needs to pee.

2. You continue to play blocks.

3. Your body reminds you it’s time to pee.

4. You continue to play blocks but with a bit more haste.

5. Your body strongly urges you to pee.

6. You shimmy back and forth while assuring vigilant parents that you don’t have to pee. And I quote, “I’m just cold.”

7. Your body spontaneously doubles the volume of urine.

8. You rock violently in Exorcism-like fashion while passionately denying that you have to pee.

9. Your body orders all available urine molecules to gather at the escape hatch.

10. You grab your privates with both hands and spastically dance in place while demanding that your parental figures accept the fact that you don’t have to pee. And I quote, “I just love dancing, Dad. SO MUCH!”

11. Your body fires a warning shot of dribble.

12. You sprint-waddle your way to the bathroom while tugging at your pants shouting, “I have to pee!”

If your child also suffers from Procrastiurination, or more specifically, if your child is between the age of 2 and 12, here’s the fail-proof #1 way to ensure that they absolutely positively MUST get to a bathroom immediately:

Put your car in Drive.

That’s all there is to it. It’s a scientific fact that kid bladders are no match for a moving vehicle. The moment a transmission is put into gear, any and all urinary barriers are lifted, and the desire to pee will be both immediate and urgent.

Understand that just asking your child while idling in the driveway if he or she needs to go to the bathroom isn’t enough. You need to actually put the car in motion for the physiological change to take place.

Warning: Using this method to fight Procrastiurination can have detrimental effects on car upholstery if you happen to be entering an on-ramp or passing a highway sign that reads, “Next Exit – Eleventy Billion Miles.” It is highly recommended that you have Mason jars with loose-fitting lids conducive to leakage on hand.

Assuming a road trip is out of the question, here are a few more measures you can take to invoke an instant and relentless compulsion to pee:

- Put your child in heavy snow gear.
- Have a waitress place a piping hot dinner plate in front of you.
- Sit with your child in a church pew.
- Be at least three miles from the nearest restroom.
- Take your child to the park.
- Board an airplane and wait for the seatbelt sign to illuminate.
- Tuck your child in for the night.
- Find yourself a traffic jam.

Aside from the above, the only real cure for Procrastiurination is time, so be patient. Once your children become teenagers, getting them to go to the bathroom won’t be an issue anymore.

It’s getting them out that’ll be the problem.

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