First off, C enjoyed the library, and especially getting the library card. We got her the small kind that has a hole in one end (for keychains), and we put it on a piece of yarn for her to wear as a necklace on library days. Ha! Do you honestly think she’s willing to limit that lovely adornment to once every three weeks? No, she put it on the minute she woke up this morning, and brought it for Show and Tell today.
Oh, and the books are cool too.
And now, the scene: Late afternoon, two naps occurring in parallel. C is taking her daily nap and I am sleeping off last night’s late-late bedtime. [I had experienced a twinge of guilt over this because it is a workday, but then again, I’m moderating a meeting this evening, and I’m working tomorrow (my day off), Saturday (my sometime day off), and Sunday. Slow and steady will win this race; twinge of guilt dispensed with. Zzzz…]
I wake up, aware of a Presence in the room.
C: Time to wake up, mommy.
Me: OK sweetie, (yawn) just give me a minute.
C: OK, I can help you. Do you need to go pee-pee?
Me: Yes, C, actually I do.
C: OK, you go walk to the potty, and pull down your pants, and I will help you wipe and then we’ll flush!
(And as I’m walking to the bathroom) You don’t want to go pee-pee in your big-girl panties!
(Hey, the girl has a point. I can’t argue with any of that, except for the help with wiping.)
She then proceeds to coach me through the experience (”just let the pee-pee come, Mommy”), and applaud at appropriate moments.
Clearly the apprentice is becoming the master. Still there is much to learn, Grasshopper.
Coda
Well this morning we sent her to the bathroom for her morning pee and soon heard her crying hysterically. She wears diapers at night and didn’t get it off and herself on the potty in time, so she soaked her favorite nightshirt. She was inconsolable for about five minutes. Kept saying she wanted to go the “real doctor” (which made me wonder if she’d hurt herself/had an infection). Then I asked if she really needed to go to the doctor, because if she did then she would miss the visit from the fire fighters at preschool today. She opted for the fire fighters.
But my word! She was SO upset about this accident! Part of it was that she really loves this nightshirt and hates when it’s in the hamper and out of rotation. But my goodness, the pressure she puts on herself!
And just for the record, she bears absolutely no resemblance to me when I was a child.
18 Responses to “toddler training”
Leave a Reply
Search
Asides
» I have been remiss in posting SBJ’s latest stats: 23 pounds and 27 inches at six months. Yes, I’ve got the big mama biceps.
» Aaaaaand little she-who-is lost another tooth this week!
» SBJ is four months old, 19 pounds 5 ounces, and 26 inches tall. GIGANTOR!
Links
Join | List | Prev | Next Random | Prev5 | Next5
Skip Prev | Skip Next
Join | List | Prev | Next |
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Thanks for that laugh!! And what a great story that is. I can only hope for one day having the same experience.
It will happen, Judy! You too will be micromanaged by a pint-sized Pee-Pee Consultant!
Just don’t mention this to Phantom…
There was a short period when my son, who is now 4, would say to me, “Good job, Daddy” after I went pee. And each time I’d look at him and say, “Well, thank you, Tristan.” However, the day may come, RM, when we will indeed need our children to help us wipe!
So funny, so adorable…
Too true, Danny.
Well this morning we sent her to the bathroom for her morning pee and soon heard her crying hysterically. She wears diapers at night and didn’t get it off and herself on the potty in time, so she soaked her favorite nightshirt. She was inconsolable for about five minutes. Kept saying she wanted to go the “real doctor” (which made me wonder if she’d hurt herself/had an infection). Then I asked if she really needed to go to the doctor, because if she did then she would miss the visit from the fire fighters at preschool today. She opted for the fire fighters.
But my word! She was SO upset about this accident! Part of it was that she really loves this nightshirt and hates when it’s in the hamper and out of rotation. But my goodness, the pressure she puts on herself!
And just for the record, she bears absolutely no resemblance to me when I was a child.
[Comment added as a coda to the original post… this is for my own record-keeping. Carry on.]
The library card necklace - way too cool. *eyes own card with glee while searching for yarn*
All I can do with this post is smile.
My Mom tells a story of her and my grandmother hiding in a public rest room for one of the women who was in there to leave. The reason? When this woman had finished in the stall next to the one my Mom and I were in, I had clapped and loudly proclaimed, “yeah, she went potty Mommy. Good potty!”
And no this was not last year.
Oh oh oh. What a cutie! This reminds me so much of experiences with my little girls. They would get terribly terribly upset if they didn’t make it to the toilet. At least, sometimes they did. My 3 year old seems to have lost the fear of peeing on the floor lately . . . Oh, and my 5 year old has started threatening to take away my dessert if I don’t behave!
Absolutely no resemblance to you as a child? Really?
hee hee
You know you’re in trouble when you take a longer nap than your toddler.
http://movies.aol.com/movie_exclusive_the_chronicles_of_narnia
Thought you’d like to see the new “Chronicles of Narnia” trailer.
All I ask is that the reverendbaby not come until I’ve had a chance to see that.
And Harry Potter IV.
Is that so much to ask?
How open are little ones are. Open to others. Open to pain. Open to stories. Marvelous to behold.
When I was four, my mother took me to Schrafft’s during a shopping expedition - think soda fountain type place with ladies wearing white cotton gloves with their walking suits and little hats - for a bite of lunch. We sat at the counter (so exciting to a four year old). A kind gentleman helped me up to the high stool, so I thought it was time for conversation, even though he was engrossed in his Wall Street Journal.
I was notorious for being a bathroom inspector as a child. Everywhere we went, I announced I had to go, and my poor mother would have to cart me off to the loo. This day was no different - I stage whispered to her that I had to go, and she, with the Kind Gentleman’s assistance, got me down from the stool. Off we went, and a few minutes later came back. Once again, Kind Gentleman helped me up.
The he made a big mistake. he said,”Everything alright?”
I smiled and said,”Oh yes,I’m fine. You know how it is when a few drops just come out into your panties?”
He buried his head into the WSJ until we left.
I think it was a two pack of Viceroys day for my poor mortified mother.
Of course, it was a great story for her to tell ever thereafter, until she was in her eighties and I was in my forties.
Back to books –
Are toddlers still reading Chicka Chicka Boom Boom?
Just wondering . . .
mibi, that is a great story!