Last night L2 was playing at a friend’s house and had a little accident. I heard her start to wail and came into the room where she was playing. She was hunched over, bawling, and managed to get out, “I went pee pee on Mark’s floor.”
“Sweety. Why are you crying?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to get mad.”
Ouch. I don’t think I’ve gotten mad at L2 for accidents…except that one time she peed on my quilt…and that one time she got H6’s favorite pillow…and oh yeah, there was that one time she peed while standing on the kitchen counter and got it all over my apple slices.
Well, I’m sorry L2. Sorry for getting mad and making you feel like you need to hide your accidents.
To prove to her that I’m over this, I was exceptionally calm today at the library when I went to pull her on my lap and smelled something yucky.
“L2, do you need to go poo poo?”
A few minutes go by. The smell is lingering…
“L2. Did you already go poo poo?”
Whatever… (This is what I’m thinking when I roll my eyes into the back of head and take a deep breath.)
In as sweet and patient a voice as I could muster, “Let’s just go check.”
Well, I guess she was right. No poop. But she did manage to go poop in the bathroom there at the library. Oh, all is well. No accidents. Major poop in a public potty. We are all good.
And then the little poop ball rolled out from her pant leg and onto my foot.
Whateverrrrrrrrrrrr……… (Complete with look and deep breath.)
Well, I held it together, cleaned us both up, gave her a kiss, and we cheerfully left the library bathroom.
I love my little H2. I don’t want her to be scared of me, EVER. So, in potty training and all other training, I need to loosen up and enjoy her and her brother and sister more.
Lord, thanks for the lessons potty training brings.