The Royal Treatment

Today has been a simple day. Pot pie and Sleeping Beauty for Margaret. Bottles and rocking for Viola. Both kids asleep and Friday Night Lights for me. It is cold outside. Riley is at work. I am grateful. We have, as Margaret would say, "MORE THAN ENOUGH!" More than enough warmth in our little house. More than enough food in our yellow cabinets. More than enough opportunity in the still hazy future.

And more than enough $%#& diapers.

They are everywhere. Spilling out of  the trash can, hiding under the couch, I found one behind my pillow last night. Surprise.

Viola's diapers are tiny, inoffensive things. If the waste of a human being could be cute, let me tell you...hers' is. Margaret, on the other hand. Oh.My.Goodness. At two and a half the little darling is still not interested in potty training. She has the system pretty well figured out. I can see it in her eyes every time I extol the fun, beauty, fantasticness! of using the toilet...

Sure, Mom. Like we are going to change anything. You read me all my favorite books, serve Chef Boyardee at least twice weekly and literally wipe my butt. What, pray tell, needs to be altered about this situation.

Yesterday, I brought out the big guns. A princess themed training potty. Pink, bedecked with Disney and sparkles, it even has a magical wand that chimes when you "flush." If this couldn't get Margaret to stop messing in her own pants, I honestly don't what could.

We presented the potty with the royal fanfare such a throne deserves. And.She.Loved.It. The girl was positively hysterical about the beauty of the thing. She shouted "PRINCESS POTTY!" over and over again as we set it up in the bathroom. Then she and I had a talk,

(Side note: I hate talking about bathroom related issues. I have avoided the p word, poop, for most of Margaret's life. Euphemisms have included mess, muddy and my favorite, absolute silence on the subject. I won't have any problem sitting down and talking to my kids about sex. But a candid discussion about waste? Absolutely horrifying for me.)

"Margaret, this princess potty is just for you! You are a big sister now. Do you know what big sisters do? They go poopy and peepee in the potty!"


"Yes. So you just tell mommy when you need to go poopy or peepee and I will help you go in the potty. OK?"


She then proceeded to carry the potty around the house telling both the real and imaginary occupants of our home all about her beautiful new potty. After the grand tour she returned it to bathroom and sat by it...stroking it...for 15 solid minutes. By the end of the evening she had filled the inside of it with all of her treasures. It is bursting with doll shoes, puzzle pieces and play food. Let me tell you, cookies coming out of the top of a toilet, even one as glamorous as this one? Seriously disturbing.

The one thing I am certain Margaret will never allow inside her beautiful new potty?

Anything that comes out of her butt.

Maybe it is just time to invest in a bigger trash can.