Sometime Sunday evening Lauren had a breakthrough. Apparently the light bulb finally flashed, and she figured out how to use the potty and has not had a single accident since. I know in light of the significant and unprecedented events taking place in the world right now, this seems like a trivial announcement, but trust me, in our household it's the top story.
Now to figure out how to find some balance. She seems to have gone from one extreme to the other. Three days ago she wouldn't sit on the toilet without crying that she didn't want to and couldn't go. Now, I can't get her to wait more than 10 minutes without going potty again. A good problem to have, I suppose.
Two conversations from yesterday:
While I was making lunch Lauren came up to me out of the blue and said, "Mommy, I'm really proud of you." "Why," I asked? "Because sometimes you go on the potty, too!" Sometimes?
As she's exiting the bathroom after her 37th trip yesterday, I hear a rustling sound. She has her hands behind her back, so I think she's holding something.
Me: Lauren, what do you have?
Me: What is that noise? Show me your hands.
Nothing in her hands, but I see something sticking out of her pants.
Me: Did you put a diaper on?
Turning her around, I discover she has stuffed a, um, "feminine napkin" into her underwear. Trying not to laugh hysterically, I ask her why she has that in her pants.
Lauren: I need it because I'm a big girl now!