The Accidental Pottyist

Tonight the little angel accidentally achieved her first potty success.  Inadvertant pissing, you might call it.  A party foul, if you're drunk, but a highlight of the toddler's pottying career.

The little angel will bail from Waddler B and enter the two-year-old room at the Emerald City next month.  We're very relieved, because Waddler B has become divided along party lines between the little angel's camp and Baby M's camp.  Sworn enemies, they are, and the babies in Baby M's camp are outnumbering the little angel's posse more with each day.  Her best friend S., a scant month younger than she, is her remaining ally.  Baby M., of course, is now refusing to recognize her government.  Daycare can be so political.

Tonight she was sitting on her potty chair as I read her the book with bagels as shapes.  She kept standing up, so I thought she wanted to take off her diaper.  I took it off and started drawing her bath.  She stood up and walked over to the bathtub rim right as I turned the water on.  Like clockwork, she started to pee as the water left the faucet.  Just as the stream hit the ugly linoleum, I grabbed her and put her on the potty chair.  Approximately two drops fell in as she shut down faster than Saddam's trial did when he started making that whole "fuck the USA" speech today.

I started cheering for the two drips.  "Yeah!" sayeth I, proclaiming the drips from the mountaintop of our oddly gray toilet (it matches the gray bathtub - where the previous owners shopped for fixtures, I'll never know).  "You put your pee in the potty!  Huzzah!"  The little angel looked shocked.

I pulled the potty stickers from their hiding place, where they have lain in waiting since she was eighteen months old.  "You get your first potty sticker!"

Potty stickers?  Her little face registered.  There are stickers for everything!  What a wonderful world it is.

I placed the potty sticker on the potty itself.  I got this idea from football teams.  Sometimes they cover the helmets with stickers, and I have no idea why they do this.  I suppose maybe they got it from the military.  Or perhaps it ALL started with potty training. How very Freudian. I could go on with this analogy for a while, but I'm sleepy.

So anyway, that was really the end of it, though I'm hoping she'll try again. Benevolent Pediatrician predicted she would actually be potty-trained by her two-year appointment, though I scoffed at the time and still scoff today. Although, stranger things have happened.  Who knows what motivates mice and men?