Panties and patience

Today is day 11 of Claire wearing panties. She is officially potty-trained, kind of.

I wasn't pushing her. We've been working on it off and on for over a year. Santa brought her a singing potty for Christmas 2007. We've done bribery, celebrations, explanations, peer pressure, and many other techniques, but I finally just had to bite the bullet and do it.

The catalyst was when she was at a playdate and told the mom that she needed a diaper change. "If she's telling you that," the mom said, "She's ready." The next day we were in panties with few objections.

That's not to say we haven't had any accidents. The first couple of days were rough, with pee-pee and poo-poo accidents, but we're getting better. I'm also getting more observant to her body language.

Sometimes it's real hard to figure out what she's telling me, like when she crawled under the table the other day and hid. She kept putting her hand on her backside, feeling for something. It was pretty funny, but what was hilarious was Adam laughing so much about it that he imitated her later. (She was unaware.) So a hint to all those potty-training parents out there: When your kid hides under the table and grabs her crack, she probably needs to go potty.

We're doing much better. We haven't had an accident in two days, with the exception of church last night. I left her and Paul in the nursery for an hour. I took her potty before I left. While I was gone, she wet herself twice. The nursery worker got so frustrated (I do understand) that she stretched Paul's diaper out and put it on Claire. Paul's bottom is so big that the 7 month old baby's diapers can be stretched to fit a 2 1/2 year old!

And now I am completely immune to being grossed out by poo.