Potty training has made my daughter a nudist. There, I said it. I never thought I would be so accepting of this lifestyle… all I have to say is I hope she grows out of it.
Today, little Eliana’s outfit of choice was socks. Just socks. Sometimes she chooses to wear her cowboy boots with those socks and sometimes she even goes modest and wears a shirt, but not today. At least she is wearing something, though. Now don’t get me wrong, I dress her when we go out but she is not happy with it. Not unless she gets to pick out a pretty dress, even though she says “no” to each and everyone she owns.
I know it’s against the fast potty training rules and everything but I put a diaper on her when we leave the house. Shame on me. It is hard enough going to the grocery store with a toddler and newborn, the last thing I need is pee pee on aisle three.
The thing is, she refuses to pull down her own underwear and when we try to teach her, the lesson usually ends in a tantrum. So our solution is no underwear or diaper. That equals using the potty… and potty dances and potty songs for using the potty. Therefore, I am just letting things take their course and praying that one day pulling up and down her underwear will just click. I am sure it will, after all I really don’t think I will have to help her use the potty when she is forty. Wait, will I?
Oh and another thing, the potty is in the middle of our living room. Even two months into potty training I still haven’t moved it to its rightful place. It is literally right in your face when you enter the front door, cheerfully exclaiming, “Welcome to the Smith residence, do you need to go potty?” So, if you ever come for a visit, you have been warned. Be prepared to see a toddler booty and a frog potty.