About two weeks ago, Mikayla decided to boycott the whole potty thing. She had been doing well for several weeks, with perhaps a couple dribbles or full-fledged accidents a day, but overall grasping the concept and motivated to put her pee pee where it belongs. It was a dark and stormy Friday when she felt she had had enough of the potty concept and would simply let loose wherever she stood. Momma's lap included. Friday and Saturday actually blur together a bit because Joel worked that weekend, but I do remember lots of laundry and lots of wine (for me after bedtime, not for her...though that probably would have explained the problem a bit, eh?). I reasoned. I begged. I pleaded. I almost cried. Nothing seemed to change the determination with which she looked me straight in the eye, said "pee pee in the potty!" and urinated straight down her leg and into her socks/shoes/momma's slippers.
For close to a week, I was washing almost all her 16 pairs of undies every other day. Other parents assured me this was a normal phase, and I read that it was a result of Mikayla mastering the skill and getting bored with it. I guess. Child psychology feels like voodoo sometimes, even to the thoroughly initiated. All I knew was that it had. to. stop. And that retreat was not an option. To return to diapers would be an admission of failure and confusing to Mikayla. It would ensure eternal revocation of my crunchy, homemade-baby-food-making, cloth-diapering, overachieving momma membership card.
So we hung in there, through dinners that involved four changes of undies and ended in Mikayla pantless and sitting on a towel. Don't even ask me about the poop.
And just as suddenly as it began, the rebellious phase ended. Mikayla woke up exactly one week later and decided that she had punished her poor momma enough. In fact, from that morning on, she commanded me to wait in the hallway while she pottied by herself. Ours is a purely utilitarian relationship at times. I gain admission into the royal presence when she realizes that wiping her own bottom would be beneath her. (Literally. See what I did there?) She also needs me to reach the yogurt raisins and stickers, which are her potty reward. Of course, she's not strong enough yet to completely disdain me, so we have lots of giggles and squeals along the way because we are both so proud of her for going on the potty!
And people, she has even started pooping on the potty. Several times. By herself. Once she waddled into my room with her pants around her ankles to tell me she had pottied by herself, and we much later discovered the #2 evidence in the bathroom. That girl.
I am already strategizing with regard to makeup and leg-shaving.
For all the sarcasm and desperation that go through my mind at times, I hope you all know me well enough to trust that I am so delighted by Mikayla's growth and determination. She is so elated when she does something by herself, and it fills my heart up with so much gratitude and love. We have done the happy potty dance together many, many times. The Lord has outdone Himself in His goodness to us in our sweet children <3 .="" p="">
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