Well, we have started trying to potty train Raynie. Super fun, of course. The end result is always the pinnacle of parenting, but the journey... well, I'll let this story speak for itself.
Raynie refused to sit on the potty seat we had from Tobey's training days, she didn't like the little boy guard on it. So I'm walking through Wallyworld last night when I see potty seats. Raynie keeps pointing at the Disney princess model that fits on the toilet (not an option, she's not tall enough, even with a stool), but my eye catches on the pretty pink one with a padded removable seat ring that turns over so there is no guard. Plus it's only $15.
We take it home and set it up, and she is fascinated with it. She demands to sit on it sans pants immediately, and spends the next 20 minutes happily sitting and prancing and inspecting. I am thinking what a success this is, we are actually making progress toward freedom! Hallelujah!
Then, I woke up today. This morning, as soon as Raynie saw the seat, she demanded to have her pants removed so she could once again sit on the chair. I complied, even though I was going to be in the other room. I figured at least she was getting used to sitting on it.
A few minutes later I went to grab her to get her dressed, but when I picked her up something didn't feel quite right. I looked, and sure enough, the little brat had pooped! (It never even occurred to me that that might happen, messy diapers usually happened post-nap in our house. Leave it to Raynie to do the deed in the morning the one time I let her run off without a diaper!) All hope is not lost, I thought, maybe, just maybe, it happened where I want it to have happened, in the pretty new potty seat.
So, a freshly- diapered Raynie and I went walking hand in hand to locate the poop. I asked if it was in the potty. She giggled, said "no no no," and led me right to my brand new, only-been-used-once treadmill.
Thank you, dearest little one, I will fondly think of toilets every time I exercise now!
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1 comments:
Oh, the joys of parenting, right? That is the one aspect of having a newborn I am already dreading. I hope training a girl is easier than training a boy, but with my luck, that won't be the case!
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