1 Mother 2 Another

Ok, I’m going to make it official
here.


Maddie is potty trained.


Wait – did I just see a pig fly by?

Seriously folks, I think this time
it’s sticking. Maddie’s been pooping in the potty for
over a week now, and there’s been no looking back. Indeed,
she’s looking forward to the payoff- all the many bribes
– I mean, incentives – we’ve offered her as the
potty-training began to drag on.


So in just over a week, Maddie will have her very own Panty Party
at Chuck E. Cheese. There will be cake. With sprinkles. Maddie is
on the lookout for hand stamps as well for some weird reason,
though I shudder to think of what drawing she would consider
appropriate for this party. She has even dictated a list of food
for the party to her grandmother, and it reads as follows:


Pizza

Chocolate milk

Chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting and pink sprinkles.


And that’s all.


I’m not sure any of our friends have ever been to a panty
party before, but they’ve all been so incredibly supportive
as Maddie dragged out the potty training that this really feels
like a community-wide celebration and they’re all
enthusiastic about the party. I’d like to thank the Academy .
. .


But the party’s not the end of the celebration – oh no.
There are two other aspects to the official End Of Potty Training
celebration. One is to go shopping for a new toy, and
Maddie’s already decided she wants a scooter. Have I
mentioned she’s only three?


The second and final aspect to this extravaganza is to go panty
shopping with the girls. Never mind that Maddie’s already got
a drawer full of underpants – mostly hand-me-downs,
I’ll grant you, but with plenty of Elmos and Zoes in there.
No, for my girl, there’s no such thing as too many panties.
In fact, I think this is what sent Maddie over the edge – the
chance to pick out another pair of panties each day to wear. Make
that twice a day- the kid changes undies every morning and night,
and more if she can sneak it in there between ballet costume
changes. She’s panty obsessed.


To the point that when she was getting dressed for ballet in the
dressing room the other day, she saw her friend next to her in a
pair of purple panties, interrupted herself mid-sentence and
squealed, “Oooh – those panties are really cute!”


Be afraid. And stay away from Chuck E. Cheese next weekend. I
cannot promise I’ll have complete control over the cake
decorating.