The best gifts in life are . . . free.

I am elbow deep in advice these days.  My little girl is not afraid of water, not even a little.  She climbs anything that will hold still.  She insists on my letting her get out of the car on her own.  She won't let me feed her.  She wants to do everything I do.  I have been teaching her to ask for help when she needs it.  When I see her start to struggle I say, "help please?"  and she either says no or repeats what I say.  That's how I know whether to help her or not. 

The craziest thing is it isn't really an age or list of accomplishments that announces the arrival of independence.  The single thing that indicates whether your child is ready for gymnastics or ski lessons or swimming lessons is "They must be potty trained."  As if you are bringing your dog for obedience school.  It has been kind of a long road so far but I am not singularly fixated on this accomplishment.  I just really think that she would take to it.  She has quite a few of the signs that she is ready.  She can tell me when she has to go (she doesn't always do this).  She has gone from sitting on the pot once an hour at daycare to every two hours and seems to be holding it until she gets to the potty again.  She has told me "mommy, hurry, mommy potty." And that was a great day.  Slowly we are marching right along with the process.  Other moms have told me that it can be done in one weekend if you can handle the mess and are consistent with it.  I tried that and I prefer not to clean up the mess.  I am sure other moms would be getting discouraged by now.  My personal feeling is as long as she is getting the principles we can wrap it all together at some point if I could get her past one hurdle.  

The thing is.   She doesn't mind it when her diaper is full of poo.  She doesn't wine about it.  She doesn't make faces.  She disappears for a minute and then comes back with a certain . . . odor.  That's our hurdle, getting her to be uncomfortable with the poo touching her body.  In every other little thing she doesn't like getting dirty.  Had a fit about finger paints.  Won't eat messy food with her hands.  Gets upset when she steps in a mud pit and it's all over her shoes.  Why she doesn't have a problem with stinky poo on her booty, I don't know.  I would have thought that would have been simple.  I heard some one describe the sentiment once and she seems to agree, "It's warm and it's mine."

What happened this morning is going down as the best gift she has given me to date.  I was in my room trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep.  She was out in the living room playing with her toys.  She had closed me in my room and I was waiting for her to come knock on the door like she usually does after a few minutes.  It took a little longer than usual but the knock came.  It was a little awkward but it was there.  I got up and opened the door and said, "c'min" the way she does when she is on my side of the door.  I turned around before I got a look at her and what she was holding and laid back down in my bed.  She said, "momma."  I turned my head without opening my eyes and said, "yes, babay."  She said, "MOMMA" and made an odd swipe at me.  I opened my eyes.

In her hand was a pull-up with one side unfastened.  She was being very careful to hold it up but despite that there was still one lump that was trying to escape.  I jumped up pretty quickly.  When I finally looked at her face she had such a huge smile and look of pride on her face.  You might be tempted to think the "gift" was a big ol' stinky pull-up full of poo.  The reality is the gift is the confirmation that potty training is moving right along.  It's working and she's doing it on her own time.  I am so proud.