My Baby has started using the potty. When she wakes up in the morning and after naptime she even says "Pa-pa?" which turns me into an entirely different human being. No, really. I shriek "Potty!? Yes! Hurry! Go! Go!" They are no complete sentences involved in my attempt to rush her to the potty. : )
The other day our potty experience went something like this: I had her naked on the potty, I heard a tinkle sound, stopped reading Duck Goes Potty (which I rented from the library and LOVE!), stood up and rejoiced over her yellow puddle in the potty. We clapped, we danced, we rejoiced. "Sesame, we have to go put a new diaper on now, so stand right there while Momma moves..."
Just as I said this a warm, tingling sensation crept over my foot.
It was wet.
I looked down, and to my utter horror, realized I was being peed upon.
By my daughter.
Who had just peed in the potty.
"AH!" I shouted, "Sit! Potty! Hurry! Go! Go! Stop! Potty!" She sat, she peed, we rejoiced. "Now, Sesame, we're going to read this book, and try and potty more." I thought I was so smart. We waited, no more pee. We flushed the potty and regrouped to head upstairs. I realized I left my coffee on the floor in the bathroom, so I turned, grabbed the cup and heard a wee vocie squeak out, "Oh No."
I rounded the corner to see Sesame peeing on the carpet.
"STOP! SIT! POTTY! NOW! RUN!"
And run she did.
She was like Forrest Gump. 'Run Sesame, Run!' and I was Jenny, cheering her on in some gibberish Mom tone. But while she ran, she also peed. I praised the Lord we had a can of Spot Shot. She made it to the potty, peed two dribbles, proudly proclaimed "All Done!" opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out a diaper and said "Diaper, Momma."