Toilet Training

I'm not "all in" on the whole toilet-training business. I am half-in.

Sometimes, when I know I have the energy to swoop in and scoop up my toddler and whisk her to the washroom (seventy three times if necessary) at a moment's notice, I let her put on underwear. I have to also be willing to clean up puddles (or worse). I have to have enough fight in me to stand firm on the no-sitting-on-the-couch-without-a-diaper rule, or else be willing to stuff sofa cushions into the washing machine.

After three and a half days of long-weekend, I was feeling brave and I let Amelia pick polka-dot underwear to put on before dinner. She wore them with pride, showing her dimpled thighs. (I don't put pants on her when she's wearing underwear because that's just an extra thing to take off her in a hurried moment when you're racing against a toddler's brain-to-bladder signal.) So she had on her rock'n'roll t-shirt with the guitar picks on it and the pink sleeves, polka-dot underwear and pink crocks. She played for a half hour without an accident. I almost forgot she was not wearing a diaper.

Then we sat down for dinner. This is inevitably when kids always have to go pee. With the distraction of play removed, they suddenly remember the rest of their bodily functions. So I wasn't surprised with Amelia said, "I pee."

My heart sank. I was about to bite into my home-made pizza. I lifted her up and made a quick check but the chair was dry. I looked at her underwear and they seemed dry too. O Miracle of Miracles! No new toilet-training toddler can tell you BEFORE they pee... it's usually while they're peeing that they let you know. So I scooped her up and tried to quickly wash her hands. I washed her left one and then as I was washing her right one, she scooped up her pizza for one last bite.  I washed her face and she picked a pepperoni off and popped it into her mouth. I left her bib on the banister and we raced upstairs.

She insisted on taking off her crocks.
I set her on the toilet and we waited. In a fraction of a second she wanted down. I sang You Are My Sunshine to her in hopes she would be distracted. She only swatted at me and yelled, "No Shushine, Mommy!" 

"All done," she said happily when in fact nothing had been accomplished.

We put her polka-dots back on and her crocks. We went back downstairs. She climbed back up onto the chair and picked up her pizza and then peed.