Sunday morning, Harriet woke up, took off her diaper and declared:
No more diapers.
Since she also had a fever of 103', I figured she was delirious and did not pay much attention to her declaration, but then she looked at me, eyes as big as her face, and screamed:
I HAVE TO PEE!
Well, you better go to the potty.
RIGHT!
And off she went.
So, unbeknownst to me, I found myself pee-deep in potty training, and I was not prepared. But, this seems to be how Harriet rolls: she does not need consensus from others, she operates on her own schedule and she loves spur-of-the-moment decisions. Heaven help me! But Harriet was ready, and as her minion, I needed to get ready too.
On Monday morning, after we dropped Leif off at preschool, I shot Harriet up with some Tylenol and headed to the mall with my snotty-nosed, plague-ridden baby girl. (Yes, it is inconsiderate people like me you can blame for spreading all these nasty viruses this winter . . . sorry) Thankfully, with a little Tylenol, Harriet quickly came back around to her usual, excitable self, and she was able to pick out her potty stickers, her potty treats, her potty toy and some brand new, very adorable panties. Is there anything cuter than a tiny baby bum in little, pink bunny panties? I think not.
When we got home, we made her potty chart, complete with Moana stickers, and she showed off her new potty toy to her brothers when they arrived home from school. Leif was very interested in the toy she chose - an Elena barbie doll with a large, plush, talking version of her sidekick Skylar, the Jaquin. (Thank you 50% off sale at the Disney Store!)
She has some really cool gadgets, Harriet! Look, there's a rope and a sword and a shooty-thing on her hand.
I pried the toy from Leif's hands, cleaned up his drool (I kid!) and placed it up on the shelf in her closet. Then, I explained to Harriet that she could have the toy once her potty chart is filled with stickers. She was good with that until she discovered that one sticker was not enough to fill up the chart . . . ugh.
With all our goodies on hand and the potty reward procedure explained and implemented, I felt more positive about this whole potty training business. Yep, I was ready . . . unfortunately, though, I failed to take into consideration three things:
1. My children, like most children, are lying, thieving schemers . . . er, I mean . . . okay, I said it and I I refuse to take it back . . . tee hee!
2. Leif and Harriet are best buddies. These two are close, super close, and they would do anything for one another. Harriet even gathers all of Leif's things together for him just before he goes to school:
Leif, here's your backpack, your water bottle and your toy.
While Leif is Harriet's biggest cheerleader.
Harriet, yes, you can jump from the coffee table to the couch. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . GO!
I call it cheerleading, but I suppose you could call it reckless, older sibling taunting to get their younger sibling in trouble, or even worse, hurt . . . potato, potahto . . . tee hee!
Anyhoo . . .
and finally,
3. Leif is obsessed with gadgets, even if they are wielded by pretty Disney princesses.
So, Sunday went without a hitch. Harriet had no accidents, and she woke up dry the next morning. On Monday, Harriet peed in the potty first thing in the morning and remained dry the entire time we were out shopping. When we got home, and after I had made up her potty chart, Harriet sat on the potty but could not go. Then, ten minutes later, she peed her pants. Harriet was so upset:
Yuck! Get it off! Ewwwwww!
I calmed her down and while I was cleaning her up, I heard Leif mumble:
Oh! I have to pee too.
And he took off towards the bathroom, but before he got there, he turned around and headed back to the living room. I figured it was a false alarm and got back to cleaning up the kitchen floor. Moments later, I heard Leif squeal:
Harriet peed in the potty, mom!
Yes, I did, mom. I peed!
I went into the living room and both Leif and Harriet were dancing around, proudly parading the pee-filled potty.
Hmmmmm . . .
Judging from the amount of pee I had just cleaned up and the amount of pee in the potty, I knew there was no way Harriet was responsible for this potty success, but, I ignored the apparent lie and the ease of which both of my offspring were willing participants in this lie, and celebrated with them:
Hooray, Harriet! Let's get a sticker and a treat.
This time Harriet insisted that she place the sticker on the chart, and she swiftly stuck it on the last square of the chart.
Toy, mom?
Nice try, kid, but nope.
These kids are smart.
About an hour later, I smelled poop.
Harriet, did you poop your pants?
Nope.
Then Leif, who was in the washroom, hollered:
Harriet pooped in the potty, mom.
She did?
Yes, I did, mom. Come see!
While, I peeked into the potty and indeed saw a giant turd, Harriet danced around me squealing:
I pooped! I pooped in the potty.
Being the experienced mother of five that I am, I knew something was up, and so I told Harriet I needed to clean her bum. Just as I suspected, her bum was clean. Then I headed to the washroom to find Leif, frantically trying to clean his own bum.
After I saw Harriet poop, I had to poop too.
Yeah, nice try, kid, but I am on to the both of you.
Oh. My. Land. Seriously, my anxiety over raising the two of these kiddos through their teenage years, while Mr. Level-Headed and I are two worn-out, old, completely out-of-the-loop parents, counting down the days until our house is child-free, has shot up exponentially. They are going to get away with everything . . . Eeeeeek!
Well, at least they will be potty-trained menaces to society . . . tee hee!
Wish us luck!
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