Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Pretty much potty trained

A, drinking water at a restaurant in Iowa. We visited that toilet at least twice.

Now I finally understand pull-up diapers. When Z was being potty trained, it was a parent-led affair. We waited until she was 2 1/2, circled a day on the calendar and called it "no more diapers day." We literally gave away Z's diapers and offered her Princess Pull-Ups only at nap and nighttime. There were tears. There were bribes. There wasn't any turning back.

A, on the other hand, started showing some interest in the potty exactly one month ago, a day after she turned 2. We were at Irazu, remember? Since then, she's been going with more and more regularity. No trip to the park or the pool or someone else's house is complete without a "pee-pee in da potty."

Since our trip to Omaha was chock full of OPP (other people's potties), A only wet her diapers at night. And with all those trips in and out of unfamiliar bathroom stalls, and all that undressing and balancing and redressing, I really learned to appreciate the pull-up diaper. Since we've been home, I think it's fair to say that A's potty trained. She can't pull down her own clothes, pull them back up or reach the sink, but she's got pretty darn good control of her toileting.

But here's the rub: I haven't actually put her in big girl underpants yet. I've shown the dorky hand-me-down training pants to her and she always shakes her head no. Doesn't seem interested. And I'm reluctant to push the issue because I'm just not that excited about cleaning up the eventual accident mess. But the day is coming.