I Came, I Saw, I Conquered: Taming the Beast that is the Autoflush Potty

IMG_7191Although it might be a bit of a stretch to say that autoflush toilets have ruined my life, I can confidently tell you that—for a period of time, anyway—they came close. What is your first thought when preparing to visit a new restaurant or store? Do you hope that a restaurant’s salad selection will be lacking so that you are left with little choice but to order something fried? Do you wonder if you will be able to score your epic once-in-a-lifetime steal in the clearance section? Well, not me. My first thought is invariably “I wonder what kind of toilets they have in their restrooms?” And although I know we try to teach our children not to hate anything or anyone, since it’s just us girls here today, I want to be very clear: I HATE autoflush toilets.

You’ve heard tIMG_7193he expression “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” right? Can someone please tell me what was wrong with the design of the original toilet (hereafter referred to as “autoflush potties,” because in this season of my life the word “toilet” doesn’t really exist) we all know and if not love, at least accept as one of the essential components of our homes? You know, the one with the handle on the side? In preparing to write this post, I gave serious consideration to researching the purported advantages of this newfangled handle-less bum (pun intended) bathroom fixture but then decided I didn’t want to bow down to this particular porcelain god in deference by actually acknowledging its lowly creation story, so I’m gonna shoot from the hip a little here.

I’m guessing one could justify the autoflush potty’s existence by saying it simplifies the act of waste elimination. Wrong. It actually complicates matters greatly, which we’ll get into a bit later. And besides, what lazy yahoo decided that reaching over to push a lever exerted extra effort he simply couldn’t afford to spare? (And I say “he” because, let’s be honest here: a man definitely came up with this invention, probably one who either had no children or was at best an absentee father, because no woman, mother or not, would ever be so idiotic as to waste her precious time on such a worthless invention.) My desire to learn his name is strong, mainly so that I can track him down and send weekly pestering hate mail to each and every one of his living relatives.

One might also claim that autoflush potties make the process of waste elimination more sanitary. Wrong again. While I’ll give you that it might keep your hands (or sole of your shoe, depending on how you roll) more sanitary since you don’t have to press a lever to make the potty flush, I can tell you that it is decidedly less sanitary than a traditional potty for all parts south of the waistline, and I know you know exactly what I’m talking about. One unintentional flinch of your behind, and bam!—your potty suddenly develops multiple personality disorder and channels its inner bidet. But this bidet isn’t pampering your nether regions with a cleansing soft bath of fresh spring water. No siree, Bob. It’s forcefully pelting your rear with urine—or, if it’s really your lucky day, feces—and that, friends, is not my idea of sanitation’s finest hour.IMG_7194

Which brings me to my last assumed justification: water conservation. I don’t care how much water these things are claiming to save in the actual mechanics of flushing, they more than compensate for any savings with the ungodly number of times they tend to flush during one pottying session. If you’re not in an office environment or spending time with a new love interest—both of which situations mandate judicious use of the courtesy flush—I’ll bet you only flush the potty once per session. Not so with autoflush potties. Their sensitivity is about as finely honed as Brad Pitt’s during his W Magazine cover shoot with Angelina Jolie (Team Aniston!), and that’s obviously not saying much.

Before I had children, each of the autoflush potty’s shortcomings was little more than a minor annoyance to me. But since I’ve had children, the sheer kinetic energy generated by the rage I experience upon realizing that an autoflush potty is the only option available to my three-and-a-half-year-old daughter is enough to power 8,000 windmill farms. (Harnessing energy from a mother’s rage…now that would be an invention worth looking into!) If you have to ask why, you probably haven’t tried to potty train a toddler lately (or have the world’s most amazingly adjusted kid), because I can tell you that autoflush potties are public enemy #1 when trying to put the icing that is consistently using the restroom in public on the potty training cake. They are terrifyingly loud, unpredictable, and just a general nuisance.

But you wanna know the real kicker? No one ever warned me about autoflush potty drama while potty training my children. Not one mama. It’s kind of like how women don’t make it a practice to talk about what happens to our hoo-has after we give birth. You either get lucky and read the Jenny McCarthy book about your blue twinkies and related aftermath, or you give birth, wait a few days, look down, and think what on God’s green earth just happened to my lady business?

So one day, I took my newly potty-trained child into a public restroom and foolishly—oh-so-foolishly—sat her down on the autoflush potty. Her little hiney wasn’t big enough to cover the seat in the first place, and seconds after I perched her on that throne, the potty emitted a deafening whoosh! And then, in what seemed to me a scene straight out of a horror movie, all the other potties in the bathroom also flushed in thunderous synchronization, and my traumatized daughter clawed her way into my arms screaming like a banshee and literally shaking with fear.

In my naivete, I thought this fear would be an isolated incident and quickly forgotten. But I soon discovered this one negative encounter would create in my daughter an intense phobia of public restrooms that continues to plague us even now, a full year after The Incident. And again—for the longest time, everyone I talked to about my autoflush potty predicament would just nod in sympathetic agreement, seemingly unable to offer up any words of wisdom beyond “this too shall pass.”

But lo and behold, in response to a blog post I wrote last year detailing another autoflush potty mishap, some very brilliant mommies offered me light at the end of my tunnel. And this, ladies, is what I’m sharing with you today—not because I assume you are as dense as I am and haven’t already figured out a workable solution on your own, but rather as a PSA to those mamas out there who haven’t yet embarked on this potty-training adventure…so that they can file this little tidbit into the likely grossly overstuffed “For Future Reference” section of their brains. The torment of the autoflush potty can be shut down. You can lay down your despair and hoist up the Super Mommy cape that you so rightly deserve. Here’s how:

IMG_7192Carry with you, at all times, a roll of wide opaque tape such as blue painters tape or masking tape. Tear off a little section of the tape and apply it directly over the sensor of the autoflush potty (either on the unit itself or mounted on the wall). The tape will blind the sensor so you or your little one can do your business without rude and unwelcome interruption. You can also wing it and cover the sensor using toilet paper or your hand, but I have found that adhesive is necessary for the added security that it provides (and because I’ve had failures with both the TP and hand method) – especially on wall mounted sensors. I’ve also heard Post-It notes work well but haven’t personally tried them.

Because the bathroom will likely be filled with other untamed beasts and therefore quite loud, I also recommend carrying child size earplugs (or earmuffs) to be inserted before entering the bathroom. This can help ease anxiety before it has a chance to escalate in a deafeningly noisy restroom. If your child is motivated by stickers (as mine is), stick some of those inside your potty kit as well to reward what will surely be a job well done. Think it’s silly to carry these items in your purse? OK, I challenge you to go grab your handbag right now and survey its contents. Chances are, you’ll find some items that are far less life-saving and versatile than those I reference above. Like the guy on the Men’s Warehouse commercials, I guarantee it!

So, ladies, do your friends a favor and clue them in to the secret but pervasive malevolence of the autoflush potty. This is my meager attempt to end the path of destruction it has carved, but I think education needs to reach further. I personally believe that every single piece of literature that covers any topic pertaining to babies, parenting, or toddlers should include a warning about the potentially life-altering and devastating effects of the autoflush potty. Sure, it can be denoted with an asterisk and provided in tiny print in the bottom right-hand corner of the page, but at every opportunity we must remind parents around the world that vigilance is necessary once potty training begins because the enemy is armed, dangerous, and anxiously waiting to ruin your life! It is our responsibility, as parents, to keep our children away from the clutches of these machines just as faithfully as we keep them from our collection of rarely used but highly prized colorful fine-tipped Sharpie markers, our secret chocolate stash, and of course, SpongeBob SquarePants.

Truth to be told, there is one thing in which I delight when I think about autoflush potties. I can’t help but smile when I remind myself that these losers of the washroom world are deluged daily with exactly what they deserve: mountains upon mountains of poop. You know what they say, ladies: karma is a real B.

Elizabeth
Elizabeth is a native Texan and stay at home mom to a 3-year-old human hurricane in pigtails and a 1-year-old son who is currently jockeying for the title of world’s biggest mama’s boy. She has been married to her husband, who lives in perpetual denial of the fact that he is, in fact, a Yankee, for eight long (and wonderful!) years. Together they have renovated a historical home with their own little hands (never again), braved the winters of New York (and decided they’d rather not), and discovered a profound and binding love of travel (travel without the children, that is). They currently reside in Fair Oaks Ranch where they are surrounded by family and deer.

3 COMMENTS

  1. Wish I had known about the tape when my boy/girl twins were in the potty training stage. HOWEVER, my little stinker son would actually make the loud SWOSH sound just to watch his sister’s reaction. Perhaps the tape would’ve worked well there too … LOL.

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