Update on potty training:
Last week, Sophia started learning how to pull down her own shorts so she can go to the potty. I showed her how to pull at the waistband instead of pulling at the hem of her shorts. For a few days, I believed this was going to work but that is only because of my inexperience as a potty training parent. The next day, she screamed bloody murder and ran away from me when I told her to get ready to go to the potty. I sat calmly in the bathroom as she ran towards the door, leaned against it and put her hands behind her back, yelling “Mommy, no potty!” Tears stained her face and her eyes were rimmed in red by the time we were finished with our unsuccessful potty trip. In a burst of inspiration, I had her put on a pair of big-girl panties instead of a dry pull-up. In less than five minutes, she was standing in a puddle by the back door.
She pointed to the floor. “Uh oh, Mommy.”
Unaware that she had even peed on the floor, Sophia stood there pointing. A few minutes before, Coco had come in from the backyard because it had started to rain. Unsure if Sophia or Coco was the culprit, I checked her pink panties and knew we had a potty accident. I cleaned up the puddle and the wet dog footprints with a towel and put on a dry pull up. This weekend she still screamed every time I took her near the bathroom. We are currently batting 2 for 20 in potty training attempts.
Yesterday, I picked Sophia up from daycare and heard these incredible words come out of Mrs. Rose Ann’s mouth. “Sophia is doing so good going to the potty. All I do is ask her to pull down her pull up and she does it all by herself! She went to the potty three times today and we only went through 2 pull-ups.” I did not admit my failure. As we drove home, my emotions seesawed between jealously and frustration. Once we go in the house and admired Sophia’s beautiful finger-painting masterpiece, I excitedly asked her to show me how she pulled down her pull-up like a big girl.
She screamed at me and ran away.
On Sunday, Trey and I purchased a shelf for the upstairs hallway that he has wanted to buy for over a year. It is a wooden leaning shelf that we can display family pictures on and it now sits against the wall between the doors of the two guest bedrooms. This is the SAME SPOT where Sophia’s play kitchen has been for the past three months. Trey assembled the shelf Sunday night after Sophia went to bed, carried it upstairs to the hallway, and secured it to the wall. We moved her play kitchen to the guest bedroom until we figured out a more permanent home for it. .
Early Monday morning, I slipped into her room and picked her up from the crib while she was still half asleep. Most mornings, she will lay her head on my shoulder and wrap her arms and legs around my body in a full contact hug. Then I sink into her soft yellow chair in the corner of her room and read a few books aloud until she is fully awake.
That morning her head jerked up before it fell to my shoulder in a sleepy daze. I followed her gaze through the open doorway of her room to the new shelf in the hallway.
“Mommy, NOOOOOooooooooooooo!” Her face red with anger, she pointed at the shelf.
She scrambled out of my arms and ran to the hallway where she swatted at the shelf with the palm of her hand. “No! No! No!”
Laughing, I picked her up again and walked down the hallway to our master bedroom. Trey was shaving at his sink in the bathroom and I told him that Sophia was angry about the shelf. After I changed her wet pull-up (yes, she screamed and refused to go to the potty) and dressed her for daycare, Trey took her to the guest room and turned on the light. He said that her eyes brightened when she saw her purple play kitchen in the corner and she ran in the room to play. A few minutes later I was in my closet picking out my clothes to wear to work when Sophia brought me some “pretend” milk in a pink plastic cup for breakfast. I was forgiven for being a mean mommy and moving her toy.
**Picture of Sophia playing with her kitchen in the hallway before we moved it. Yes, she is wearing my high heels.