Way, way off in the distance. Like seeing the gray silhouette of the Sears Tower from LaGrange. But it's there. This morning I popped A out of her crib and headed to the changing pad for a morning diaper change. She let me take her old--still fairly dry--diaper off, but refused a new one.
"No want diaper! Poo-poo's coming," she said, touching herself on the behind.
"Great, how about you sit on the potty," I replied, flipping open the lid to the potty chair and tossing out the toys stowed inside.
"Noooooo!" she shrieked, and booked her naked butt out of the room. She then tried to close me in her bedroom with a "No, Mommy stay in. Poop's coming!" Big, devilish smile.
I cracked open the door and watched her piss on her feet. I picked her up, midstream, and popped her on the potty. Z was so proud of her sister, "Mommy, Daddy! A peed on the floor and in the potty!" I didn't have the heart to tell her maybe one drop made it in.
Potty training. Just one more reason I'm glad we keep microfiber car-washing rags all over the house. Those puppies can suck up a pee-pee puddle in seconds flat.
