Blown Away

Reagan was being quiet.  Too quiet.  I hadn't heard her incesssant "MOM! MOM! MOM!" in a good 15 minutes, which made me worry about what she was up to.  So I went downstairs, and there she was, just leaving the bathroom.  She smiled at me, handed me the bucket from her potty chair, and said "YUCKY!"  No. way.

That little girl had gone "#2" on the potty chair (by herself), dumped it in the toilet (by herself), and flushed (by herself).  Of course, she had also helped herself to a bag of chocolate chips, and was munching on them to while away the time on said pot (by herself), too.  I came just in time for wiping and washing out of the bucket.

Holy cow, girl.  We started this whole training in earnest FIVE DAYS AGO.  See, THIS is why I waited a little bit longer to start the process.  Because she's ready, it takes five days.  When a child's not ready (uhhhh.... like little boys) it takes a year and a half of torture, stained carpets, and excessive laundry.  WHY do that to myself?????

I know we have a ways to go with self-managing clothing, and night time dryness, but I have SUCH HOPE after these past five days!!! 

I'm so proud of you, Reagan!!!

Introducing... BIG GIRL PANTIES!

YEEE HAW, BABY!!!

Documenting for all posterity.

My daughter, on this 23rd day of July, 2011.... at the tender age of 32 months old..... went PEE on the POTTY, at home, for the very first time.  WAAAHOOOO!

I was trying the diaperless thing again, and told her to put her pee in the potty if it came.  She was lying next to me, and asked for a pull-up.  UH, no.  Let's go sit on the pot.  We did, and... SUCCESS!!!!  I'm doing a little dance over here.  I was starting to think that the alleged "pee on the potty" that happened at church about a month ago was a hoax.  After all, I wasn't there to witness, and it's quite possible that she just SAT THERE, and they only THOUGHT she peed.  Well, it doesn't matter now.  I have visual confirmation.  She DID IT!!!

Good girl.  Good girl.  Good girl.

P.M. ADDENDUM:  Reagan was diaperless for the entire day, with the exception of nap time.  I am absolutely THRILLED to report that she went pee TWICE on the potty.  What's more, and absolutely astounding to me, is that she also POOPED on the "big" potty.  Wowza.  She had one accident, but it was on the kitchen floor, which was easy to clean up.  This blows her brothers out.of.the.water. in terms of toilet-training.  They were nearly four years old before they were trained.  And we started training at two and a half.

Quinn was a bit too fascinated by the whole thing, and insisted on being in the bathroom to watch Reagan through each of the many, many, many times she ran in there to sit.   When I told him to leave and give her some privacy, he just said "But I've already seen her privates, Mom".  Nice.  When Reagan finally did the "big job" on the "big pot" this evening, BOTH boys ran in there and insisted on seeing it float down the drain.  Quinn was enthralled that Reagan had to sit down to pee.  I told him all girls sat to pee, even me.  "Well, you could do it standing up if you wanted, Mom.  It's not hard."    It's not really a preference thing, Quinn.  It's biology.

Just so so so so proud of our little gal.  And so excited that things seem like they're going to be eons and eons better and easier than the nightmare that was training her brothers.  Reagan was pretty proud of herself, actually, and insisted on calling both sets of grandparents on the phone to tell them the big news.   Be prepared to read lots of blog posts on excrement in the very near future.  It's just THAT exciting of a topic to me at the moment.

I think we're going to splurge on some big-girl panties from Walmart tomorrow!!!  WOOO HOOOOO!

Conversations About Daddy

Reagan is becoming a conversationalist.  Well, she's always been a talker.  Of gibberish.  She's fluent.  But English is coming, and I get the biggest kick out of having an actual understandable, back-and-forth conversation with my daughter. 

Reagan: "Where's Daddy?"
Mom: "Dad's at the airplane".
Reagan: "Uh Oh.  Airplane broken."
Mom: "Yup.  Dad is fixing it."
Reagan. "Daddy FLY!!!" (pointing up to the sky)
Mom: "Some day he's going to fly in that plane!"
Reagan: "Daddy happy."
Mom: "Yes, you're right.  When Dad's with his plane, he's very happy."

Two Year Old Day

I don't know WHAT got into the child yesterday.  She screamed for much too big a portion of the day (including about a solid 2 hours there at the end),  fought endlessly with her brothers, and slathered herself in wart remover ointment.  After she spilled a good chunk of it on my bed, that is.  I was wondering what the SMELL was, and why her arm and leg was covered in something sticky white.  Good grief, girl. 

She also woke up yesterday, handed me her blanket, and told me "WASH".  She was right - it was in desperate need of laundering.  Later, at nap time, I had forgotten where it was, and asked her.  She again told me "WASH".  Good memory!  She keeps track of that thing like anything.  A good mommy to that blanket, she is ;).

Snippet I want To Remember

Yesterday, while out in the yard, playing in the daisies with my daughter. We both lie down amongst the grass and flowers, her head on my belly, and look up at the sky. She points up, and says "Mommy! Bug! Sky! Fly! Pretty!"

We lie there quietly for a few moments and enjoy the view. Then she gets up and starts picking flowers for me to put in my hair. When I try to put them in her hair, she says "No. Mommy try." She searches for more flowers and says, in her toddler way "another one!!", which comes out as "nu-wer one". She picks three flowers, and hands them to me, and notes solemnly that they are a Mommy, a Daddy, and a Baby flower. She rests them on my belly as I lie down. And we laugh there among the wild flowers, and play with each other as we so rarely do... because there are big brothers to contend with, and housework, and jobs, and errands. But just for now, just for these few precious seconds, it's Mommy and Reagan. Just us two. We hear Quinn looking for us, then, wondering where we've gone, and both Reagan and I shriek and fall to the ground, and hide in the long grass, as he calls to us. Reagan says "dis way!" and we giggle privately at our little game. It doesn't take him long to find us, and then our moment is done.

Just want to remember.

Big Foot

In the mad dash to get ready for church this morning, I went through five... yes FIVE.... pairs of shoes before I found a pair that fit Reagan.  The ones that fit didn't match her dress at all, but at least didn't crunch her toes.  Several were pairs that she had never even worn before - adorable shoes that my sister had bought Reagan before she was even born, just waiting in the closet for feet to be big enough to wear.  And now?  Too small.  She apparently went from a size 5, which she has been for what seems like a year now, to a size 7 - skipping size 6 entirely.  I got ALOT of use out of those size 5 shoes, but the abundant and irresistable size 6s?  Nada.  So disappointing!  And we don't have a single size 7 shoe in the house, which means that she and I will be going shoe-shopping in the very near future.  Sheesh child.