We are on the brink of entering a phase of parenting known as Diaper Free Nirvana.
All I can say is thank you dear God for the honor of having my child finally take not one, but two, glorious, substantial, worthy of several flushes, poops in the potty in one night!
It’s a national holiday!
But seriously, a few weeks ago I decided that the only thing holding thing holding my youngest daughter back from showcasing her cute little tushy in a pair of size 2 Dora cotton briefs was me. That’s right ya’ll. I’m lazy. I mean potty training is a lot of damn work. Have you tried it? I thought trying to housebreak an extremely neurotic puppy ten years ago was bad.
Any way, all of Amelia’s friends at school “were doing it” and honestly this is one of those times when sheer, unbridled peer pressure rocks. Her teacher was on board and can I just add that daycare teachers who double as potty training Nazis and march your kid to the potty every hour like clockwork are a blessing indeed. I packed a little bag with a change of clothes and two spare pairs of panties and dropped off Amelia at daycare sporting big girl britches. I was a little concerned. Would she do OK? Would she protest? Would she have an accident and be embarassed?
She hasn’t had one single solitary accident … at school any way.
Apparently, she saves up all of her mighty poo poo powers for mama. I must have some sort of tushtastic wiping technique that parallels no other. I’ve been trying to keep a close eye on her, knowing that the stealth poop is going to happen, but inevitably I’ll get distracted and find her hiding in a corner and concentrating on filling her underwear.
Now at naptime and bedtime she still wears a Pull Up, but we’re definitely making strides.
The other night after dinner, pretty much out of the blue so I can’t really tell you what the heck inspired her, she walked toward the bathroom and announced she was going to poop in the potty.
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