About two-ish months ago, I set aside a few days to watch Aurelia's water-passing like a hawk. No diapers, just the tiniest little girl panties and a watchful eye. At that time, we failed. Miserably. In three days, I washed six pairs of pink plaid underpants four times, and she gleefully went on to spend the next few weeks with her beloved wearable, disposable, expensive pee-catchers.
Wait until she's ready they all say. Girls are easier than boys they all say. I shake my fists at those tall tales I so naively believed six months ago. Aurelia is not just any girl. She is headstrong, and she is defiant. She is intelligent, and she is her mother's daughter. She will deliberately resist learning something simply because someone (I) want her to learn it. The only successful pees-on-the-potty in the last three months (typically before bathtime) have been in Matt's presence.
Well, it ends today. Or tomorrow. Or possibly this weekend (I have to work, so we'll see how persistent Daddy is regarding this task).
Our stats so far (beginning at 0800):
Sitting on the toilet: 2
Going in the toilet: 0
Crying while on the toilet: 1
Pee Pants: 0
Asking "do you have to go pee?" and subsequent shushing from the toddler: 27
In other news, I did most of the gift wrapping last night, and I am ashamed to say my son has fallen victim to Second-Child Syndrome once again. Although I know a two-and-a-half year old gets more out of Christmas gifts than a 14-month old, I feel some guilt. I can only hope he is happy with his one toy and Aurelia's wrapping paper cast-offs. (You all know I'm prone to hyperbole, but it's not that far off...)
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