1 Mother 2 Another

Maddie has been pooping in the potty for
five (five!) days now. Dare I hope?


After last week’s promise to Maxum – “Maxum,
I’m working on pooping and peeing in the potty all the time
so I can go to school with you, I promise!”- Maddie really
got down to business. That very afternoon she asked to use the
potty instead of her pull-ups to poop, and grinned triumphantly at
her easy success.

The very next day she didn’t even
contemplate the pull-ups, but went straight to the potty for her
morning poop. I should’ve suspected a larger plan in the
works, but was honestly surprised when Maddie said at lunch,
“So I’ve been pooping in the potty for two days. Does
that mean I can go to school with Maxum now?”


Oops.


I had to explain that Maxum’s school was full right now (true
statement) so she couldn’t go until after the summer. I asked
if she’d consider another school where her friend Elise goes
(the school we’ve settled on for the fall) and she said an
unequivocal nope. O-kay.


I then cleverly switched the conversation to the gold medal of the
pooping Olympics – the celebrated Panty Party at Chuck E.
Cheese. She’s been dreaming about this party for months, and
I told her that if the weekend went well we’d start planning
the party on Monday – though it’s already been planned
in her head for quite some time, from the type of cake she wants
(chocolate on chocolate, that’s my girl) to the decorations
(streamers, no balloons) to the favors (hand stamps –
don’t ask what kind of picture). This worked well to divert
her, and she’s now dreaming of the ultimate panty party.


The party promise came in handy on Sunday, when Maddie had to poop
and changed her mind, begging for a pull-up. I pointed out that 1)
none were to be had on that floor, since they were all retired
upstairs; and 2) it would push the panty party back indefinitely.
Maddie buckled down and went to work.


So we’re starting day six here, and I’m praying that
this is for real. We’ve moved Maddie’s changing table
out of her room, bringing in a dressing table I used most of my
childhood, and Maddie feels grown-up and very special. We’ve
put all her panties into a drawer and she takes great delight in
sorting through them, deciding with a critical eye which particular
pair she feels like wearing each day. I really think this might be
it (famous last words) and will do pretty much anything to keep
from going back to diapers.


Even eating nasty cheese pizza with a giant mouse.