Greyson was home bound this weekend for his 20th high school class reunion. (Insert old-man joke here. Trust me. I did.) He got a last-minute grossly overpriced plane ticket and went to hang with the class of ’93. 1993 was the same year Beverly Hills 90210 and Saved By The Bell graduated. (If you remember “Donna Martin graduates!” Awesome, we can be friends.) This dear man has a hard time doing things just for him so I pretty much made him go. He hung out at my 10-year reunion a few years ago and partied with my class like it was 1999, so I made sure he got on a plane Friday.

This started Mother-Daughter Potty Training Weekend ’13.

Charlotte’s teacher and I had a good talk about her bathroom progress. We both know she can do it. She goes everyday, but only because we make her. The child simply does not stop her intense playing/reading/singing/dancing/running long enough to go. She would rather go in her pants than stop and go in the potty. We have flirted with Pull-Ups for too long and I’m sick of the diaper company’s overpriced ploy to keep my kid in their glorified diapers. We’re done. Her teacher has potty trained many toddlers in her career and agreed with me that Pull-Ups aren’t cutting it and this kid needed to go cold turkey.

So we did. No turning back now. Pull-Up at night and during naptime. Panties the rest of the time. We’re doing it.

That conversation was Wednesday, the same day Charlotte spotted the one item she has not stopped talking about since. A girl in her class has an older sister in the Pre K class with a Rapunzel backpack. Seeing the Rapunzel “pack pack” was all Charlotte needed. I promised her I would get her one if she went #1 and #2 on the potty and CONSISTENTLY stayed clean and dry.

I understand this is bribery to teach a life skill.  I don’t care. Feel free to judge me and my parenting. 

Thursday at school she kept her Abby Cadabby panties dry on the way to school. I was very skeptical and filled her cubby container with extra clothes. I was shocked to find her that evening in the same Abby panties, clean and dry.  I was thrilled to tell her she was on her way to her “pack-pack” goal.

Friday she did great until a #2 fiasco at the end of the day that resulted in her teacher having to toss her precious pair of Rapunzel panties. She tearfully told me “Miss Cyn-tee-a frew my Rapunzel panees in da trashcan!” (Translation: Miss Cynthia threw my Rapunzel panties in the trashcan.) Still proud though. The “pack-pack” was in sight.” I even called the Disney Store to make sure they had a stock of Rapunzel backpacks.

Saturday morning I made the mistake of turning on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse which distracted her too much and she got her pants wet. Thankfully, she ran into her BFF Adalyn from her class at the local farmers market and she wanted to go potty because Addie wanted to go potty. Let’s hear it for positive peer-pressure!

What happened Saturday afternoon made me realize my idea of a Mother Daughter Potty Training Weekend was darling, but just ain’t gonna cut it. This is going to go on for awhile.

We were at Michael’s, unsuccessfully finding something for my half-assed attempts at crafting. I kept checking with Charlotte to see that she was “clean and dry.” Things were going great. She had a Rapunzel coloring book and was happily flipping through black and white pages. I let her sit in the large part of the cart so she could stretch her legs. I was searching for the right color paint when I heard it.

Trickle, trickle, trickle, splat splat.

I turned and gasped as pee went through the grate of the shopping cart and into the middle of the scrapbooking aisle. I only reacted. No thinking, just reaction. I scooped my bewildered tot up from the dripping cart, snatched the book from her hand, left it on the shelf and ran out of the store. Charlotte screamed the whole time. Not because of her embarassment over leaving her mark in Michael’s. Nope. She was mad I didn’t buy the damn coloring book.

Yes, I should have fessed up to the managers of the store. I’m really sorry, and really embarrassed. I only hope I don’t end up on the “Best of Security Camera Footage” or something like that.

Needless to say, the coloring book wasn’t the only thing she didn’t get. She didn’t get the “pack-pack” yet either.  I REALLY wanted to just slap a Pull-Up back on her, but I didn’t. We kept it up today too.

The moral of the weekend? Donna Martin may have graduated, but it will take longer than a weekend to graduate out of Pull-Ups.

Dear Charlotte,

When someone asks how old you are, you proudly announce, “I’m two!”  This is usually accompanied by you holding up your thumb and pointer finger instead of your pointer and middle finger.  I hear Europeans start finger counts with the thumb, and thus you show two on your hands like an English or French child.  Daddy and are proud of your worldliness with this display.  Way to go kiddo!  Excuse me, Manière d’aller kiddo !

Today you are officially 2-and-a-half.  I don’t know if I want to tell you that for fear that you will stop shouting “I’m two!” These last six months of having you as a two-year-old has been wonderful!  Two has brought discovery.  You have discovered what you like and what you strongly dislike.  You notice everything now!  Everyday you learn something new or ask another question.  Just the other day in the car we talked about the traffic lights and how they turn green and red.  You shout, “Schoo Bus!” whenever you see one.

You adore your friends and talk about them all the time.  You name every kid in your class and talk about them with affection.  Today you even hugged each one before we left.  They all shout “Bye Chalette!” When you leave.  Two-year-old’s love to shout I’ve learned.  With this adoration of your peers comes fierce competitiveness.  You are not one to be pushed around by other toddlers and will vehemently defend yourself with a returned shove.  Sharing and being nice are things you and your friends work on daily.

You still love Sesame Street but your interests have expanded.  Any book or toy with Mickey Mouse is a favorite because of the hit TV preschool show “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.”  If Daddy and I are being honest, it makes us want to drive nails through our skulls, but you love it.  Being an ever growing girly-girl you have discovered princesses and adore any book or movie with a princess.  I am weary of too much princess because of the messages that can send little girls, but I like the newer princesses in today’s movies.  Besides, your favorite princess is now my favorite too.  You love Rapunzel from “Tangled.” I mean, LOVE her!   You talk about how brave and kind Rapunzel is all the time.  I like the “Tangled” story and I’m okay with your fanaticism.  I try not to get tired of singing the song from the movie in the car over and over to you.  I know it won’t be long until you ask for some other song and I’ll miss the “Rapunzel song.”

You love your baby dolls, blocks, books, balls, kitchen set, trains, dress-up clothes and games.  You are on the move all the time.  Sometimes we can’t keep up.  You have improved identifying your colors and shapes.  I can tell your fine motor skills are getting better and better when you color and play blocks.  You are more adventurous with your food, trying new things that Daddy and I like to eat.  We’re proud of how many fruits and vegetables you love.  Sometimes we just have to tell you that “Rapunzel likes green beans” to get you to eat something.  It makes Daddy and I laugh.

The potty is still a daily learning experience, but I have a feeling you will turn the corner soon.  Especially as it gets closer to when the new baby will be born.

In the morning I ask you what you dreamed about.  It’s  always the same answer, “I dweamed about my baby sister!  She took a nap wiff me!”  That’s when my heart melts and I want to bottle you up at 2-and-a-half forever.

I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama

Hold her a little longer.

Rock her a little more.

Tell her another story.

(You’ve only told her four.)

Let her sleep on your shoulder.

Rejoice in her happy smile.

She’s only two-and-a-half

for such a little while. 

-Author Unknown

WARNING!  THIS POST CONTAINS EXTREME BATHROOM DISCUSSION.  IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE POOP, GET OFF THE CRAPPER!

I know kids don’t usually go to Kindergarten crapping their pants.  I also know kids don’t move into a college dorm still wetting the bed.  Well, they might.  That would be a time to talk about drinking in moderation.  But, I’m starting to think I started my daughter potty training too early.

We followed the pediatrician’s advice to buy a potty for a little girl when she turns 18 months.  We did.  We talked about the potty.  We brushed her teeth on the potty.  She pushed the buttons on the potty that made funny noises.  She thought the potty was great

When she turned 2 in November we bought Pull-Ups and she was delighted.  She didn’t want diapers anymore.  She was psyched.

After the holidays, when Santa brought panties, it was on like Donky Kong.  Potty training.  Boo yah!  She wears panties at school except for her nap.  At home we try to keep panties on until it’s time for bed.  When we go somewhere, though, it’s back in a Pull-Up.

Number one is usually not a problem.  Number two.  Ugh!  Still a battle EVERYDAY!  I feel like I’m always dumping little turds from Minnie Mouse underpants into the commode.  I lead a glamorous life, lemme tell ya.

We’ve tried the “one M&M for pee and two for poop.”  We’ve tried the “one sticker on the chart for pee and two for poop.”  We’ve caved in to poor parenting tactics and bribed her with toys.  She has only pooped on toilet a handful of times and it was really just good timing on our part because we detected a pre-poop fart and ran her in the bathroom.

I’ve heard of 3 1/2 year-olds who still won’t take a crap unless it’s in their Pull-Up or diaper.  I don’t want that to happen to us.  I know she can do it, she just doesn’t want to stop playing long enough to go.

What am I doing wrong here?  Should I ditch the Pull-Up for naptime and bedtime too, and hope when she wakes in her own filth she’ll get the picture?  That seems cruel and like something they would do to prisoners in captivity, you know?

Where are we going wrong?  Should we have just done the extreme roll-up-the-rug-and-let-them-run-naked method?  Is she just too young?  What did you do?

Thanks!

If you don’t already read my friend Erin’s blog, you totally should.  She came up with a fun idea for a link up and I’m all about it.  Why?  Because it has to do with sparkly stickers.  Let’s face it, I love sparkly stickers about as much as my two-year-old loves them.

Her idea?  Parents should get gold stars for being awesome, or simply for doing things that aren’t terrible.  Agreed.

• My little potty-trainer said she needed to drop a deuce.  Yes!  We’ve been working on that.  I hurried her to the commode.  I helped her pull down her pants and a turd fell out and rolled on to the bathroom floor.  I did not groan and grimace.  Nope.  I plastered a shit eating grin on my face and said, “Uh oh!  That’s okay!  You got really close to the potty!”  I helped her do her business and cleaned up.  My little one then reminded me “You no eat poo poo, Mama!  Is yucky!”  I had my shit eating grin on for nothing.

We’ve had a lot of changes in toddlerland lately.  It’s full-tilt potty training madness.  She’s doing pretty well.  If we’re consistent, she’s consistent with Number One.  Number Two, eh.  It’s taken a back seat.

In other news, the same child who has taken a pacifier all her life outside the womb and affectionately calls it her “num-num” has been paci-less for about four days.  I couldn’t find it the other night.  We went out to the car to look for it.  We searched the playroom and her room.  No luck.  I looked at my sleepy tot  in her pajamas, sighed and said, “Charlotte, your num-num went bye-bye.”  She pondered this a moment and replied, “My num-num went bye-bye.”  That was it.  She spotted a rogue binky under the furniture today, but forgot about it when suddenly Thomas the Tank Engine did something on television that was worthy of her attention.  Thank you preschool programming!

I think this is the last paci pic I snapped.

As if these weren’t enough big girl achievements, she’s out of baby jail!  That’s right!  Our girl is sleeping in a toddler bed now.  When we finally decided on this furniture we got her crib as a conversion bed.  We wrongly assumed this included safety rails.  Whoops.  We figured she only has about eight inches to fall and has not fallen out of bed yet.  Parents of the year.

Baby monitor shot.

The funny thing about all these changes is I constantly oscillate between feelings of overwhelming pride and weepy nostalgia.  

There are many moments in the day when  I’m so proud of my big girl!  I love seeing all her 2-year-old accomplishments.  This may be the mama bear talking, but Charlotte is a smart one.  She’s getting so independent.  She is brave and fun.  Everyday she says a new sentence, sings a new song, or tries something on her own.  It’s amazing!

There are other moments when I want to run after her screaming, “No!  Wait!  You’re still a baby!  Stop growing  up so fast!”  After praising her for successfully using the potty, I suddenly want to change her diaper and give her a pacifier.  Instead of tucking her in her big kid bed I want to swaddle her up and rock her to sleep.

The only thing I can do is think of all the exciting things to come in her childhood and take in every moment of this transition.  If there is anything I’ve learned since becoming a parent, it’s that it’s all fleeting.