2 weeks ago Avery started trying to crawl.
She does a very respectable military crawl with very advanced use of her knees, hip and bottom to propel her forward. She is one motivated and focused little girl. Briar better watch her back.
Speaking of Briar. She’s a potty princess! She’s got a Dora seat and an Elmo seat and is testing them both out. 2 days ago she actually peed while on the seat.
Don’t even think about rolling your eyes or “ew”ing. If you are on this blog you are going to hear about every riveting detail of potty training, talking, using a spoon and the like.
Back to peeing. So she did it, of course she did it for Dad.
I’ve set her on the potty many times. This is how it plays out:
We look at each other, she on the potty and me on my knees before her.
She lets me know there is lotion in the basket behind her
“Eh-yoshun. Eh-yoshun in un bisket. Yoshun?”
She lets me know she is sitting on the potty,
“Ees paw-tee. Paw-tee. Sitting’n paw-tee’n paw-tee sit. Paw-tee.”
Back to the lotion
” Hands. Eh-yoshun sis sis hands, yoshun. Yoshun. Hands, peez.”
Then she asks for a piece of tissue
“Ti-shoo, piece, ti-shoo peez. Tant-joo. Tant-joo. Wel-come.”
And then she says “Flush. Bye bye. Bye bye n paw-tee. Goes,”
to what could have gone in the potty and then flushes the empty toilet.
Unfortunately with the potty training comes the loss of interest in helping put diapers in the trash. Used to be able to hand her a dirty diaper, hers or Avery’s, and she’d take it to the trash can. Not anymore. She picks up the diaper, identifies the character on the back, maybe kisses it, and either unceremoniously drops it on the floor as she heads off for another activity or simply chucks it across the room.
Wouldn’t trade it for the world. Potty training a curly haired cherub and encouraging a cheerful babbling infant is more satisfying than just about anything else I could imagine. It’s just so pure, so natural. The thing with babies and kids, the dirty diapers and crayons marks are easy to clean and always followed by laughter and joy.
See scribbles or smell poop: clean up.
It’s like the math you were taught in elementary school, you learned that adding 2 and 2 always got you 4. So you sprinkle in love and lessons between the poop and the coloring on computer monitors and there you have it. Sure, there are times when it’s a bit of a struggle, but it’s the best kind of struggle.
It’s life. And man do I love my life.