she came, she saw, she peed

i pulled the plug on pull-ups today.  and i've been awash in a tidal wave of urine ever since.

potty training: it's an ugly, ugly thing, my friends. 

i bought madeleine her first potty nearly two years ago now.  at first, it was a cool hiding spot for her treasures.  then she took our word that you could actually pee on it, no, really, you can, and by god, one day, she went and peed on the darn thing.  we praised the living bejesus out of her.

slow, slow small steps and two years later, here we are.  i haven't forced it, because i've heard forcing it is the worst thing you can do.  but now i wonder, is it?  or is having to change your pull-up before you hit a keg party with your sorority sisters the worst thing?  because, uh, that's where girlfriend is headed.

i ditched the diapers a couple of months ago, and stuck her in princess-printed pull-ups (there's an image for you.  if you were a princess, how'd you like to be stuck to the rear end of a three-year-old all day?  probably not how you envisioned royalty.), but they totally DID.NOT.WORK.  she treated them just like diapers, and even had the nerve to pretend like she wasn't wet, or worse, shitty, when, hello, the cartoon stink lines were practically coming off of her.

i bought her underwear late last year, and she wore them a few times, but every time she wet them, she decided she was done, and it was back to the pull-ups.  today, we went straight for the undies, and i carried around two spare pairs at a time all day, as well as several outfit changes.  we changed underwear seven times.  the last time, i had to chuck them, because, let's just say it would have taken a hazmat team to reclaim them.

places we had accidents today: at playgroup (twice), at home (twice), on a trail at the nature center and then back at home again, but not before she peed on the floor next to our table at johnny rockets.  that one seemed to mystify her: "hey, where's all that pee coming from?  hey, look!  here's a puddle!"

at home tonight, relating the day to the hubs, i cried.  not only because i'd had such an exhausting day, full of lysol and clorox wipes, but also?  because in ten years, i'll be sitting on this same damn sofa, crying about something else going on in her life, only this time, it'll be something that'll make potty training look like a joke.  and that this whole parenting thing?  it's frustrating and exhausting, yes, but it's all going by so damn fast.  blink, i'm pregnant.  blink, i have a baby.  blink, i have a little girl... blink, blink, blink, i'm picking out a mother-of-the-bride dress and then slapping a "let me tell you about my grandkids" bumper sticker on my car.

holy hell, i must be getting my period.