You know, there are many things in our lives that I have “under control”. And by under control I totally mean that I feign an act that things are OK, well enough in public that people don’t seem to notice how it’s all falling apart. Or maybe they’re just nice enough not to point it out.
One thing that I was not even going to attempt at getting under control, was potty training Riya. At the beginning of this year, even mentioning panties would send her into one of her famous flip out sessions. So I gave up. And really, potty training is such a mission that I was kind of glad that she wasn’t into it.
Bring on the first term of school and the most fantastic teacher in the world.
Now mentioning a nappy sends her into hysterics and the only time I can get her to wear one is at night, after much debate about why wetting the bed is not much fun. (We tried it without once… I will definitely not be attempting this one again any time soon).
So we have a fully potty trained girl! Hardly any accidents, unless she is wrapped up in their afternoon playtime so much that she looses her sense of reality, but that’s not very often.
Here she is with her certificate that her school gave her, along with a couple of brand new colourful panties: (She got this a while ago – as you can tell by the lack of shoes and warm clothing – but things have just been so hectic that I haven’t been able to post about it yet.)
She is so proud of it!
And so she should be. She is really so good, I hardly even have to remind her any more. Give or take about 10 undies that I had to throw away, we didn’t even have that much third party damage. (I don’t do well with that kind of thing. And if you do, you are totally welcome to take over a room at our house in about a year or two’s time to take over Knox’s training.)
Now if I could only get rid of that dummy…