Thursday, May 6, 2010
who's getting "trained" anyway?
at 6:22 PM
I've told you before, but I am pretty laid back. I figure kids are pretty smart, and they usually figure out that dirt doesn't taste good, or that it hurts when they "fly" off the couch, and so on. Really, when they learn it that way, it means a lot more than just my party-pooper warnings. All that to say: I am not so easygoing when it comes to bodily fluids. I hover like a Woodlands mommy.
"Brynn. Brynn? Sweetie? How you doin? Do you want to go to the big girl potty??!!"
"Okay, then." pause... "But... it's real FUN in there. Big girls love the potty."
"No. The dog don't wanna go potty. The dog wanna play her game."
10 minutes later
"Um, Dog? Baby Princess Dog? Do you want to go pee-pee in the potty and get candy??"
"I not Dog. I giant panda." (scornfully)
I convince her to use the potty multiple times a day, with success every time and no daytime accidents. I just am having a hard time not asking. Maybe soon.
Today, we went to Walmart. She was mostly interested in holding all of the groceries. As in, not letting them go in the back of the basket. We lost the MOG to boredom somewhere between the coffee and produce, and that is when she decided she needed to go potty. On her own. I called Richy's cell and told him to come back and get Toby and the groceries so I could take her. He strolled casually back to us by way of Galveston, and eventually got there.
I was panicking a little, watching for signs of the pee-pee dance and cheerfully urging her to wait a minute. We booked it to the front restroom, where she asked questions about every wall and soap dispenser and tried to sit in the baby seat and then finally sat down and didn't really have to go. Still, kind of a win. Man, I'm exhausted. Woodlands mommies, you have my sympathies.