…but there is a certain blonde-haired three-year-old girl living in my house who may or may not have finally mastered something that may or may not have to do with a certain porcelain plumbing fixture. We are still having the occasional accident (including one this weekend on a very expensive sofa in a furniture showroom! Lovely!) but our successes are outweighing them.
And maybe I’m just unusually uptight, but I had forgotten how much power the potty habits of a little 25-pound person can have over my entire outlook on life. When we go a day or two without an accident I am skipping around like a schoolgirl ("We did it! We finally did it!"). And then an accident can send me to the brink of despair ("But we were making so much progress…"). I think Hubs is ready to send both Corrie and me to a hotel until this thing is done.
This weekend I found myself sitting with my grandmother, telling her at length the differences between potty training a girl and potty training three boys, and the boys were more eager to poo-poo but Corrie prefers tinkling, and the differences in the mechanics of wiping, and I had to stop and think OH MY STARS WHO IS THIS STRANGE PERSON I HAVE BECOME?
But that’s okay, because The Deed is mostly done. This Thanksgiving I’m thanking my lucky stars for Princess panties, Princess stickers, and Skittles in a Princess bowl.
(You know what’s funny? The first time I typed that I accidentally wrote "Princess bowel." Heh, heh.)