I was thrilled yesterday afternoon when Ellie went into the powder room to wash her hands and then announced that it would take her a little longer because she also had to pee! We joke that she must have a bladder of steel, because the child can hold it for upwards of 6 hours!!! Although she has been potty-trained for well over a year now, she RARELY says she has to go. We (usually me) always has to tell her when it's time to try.
So, as I praised her from the kitchen while beginning dinner preparations, I then hear her start to wail, "Oh no, Mommy! Heeeeelp!" I rushed toward the powder room...and "the answer" met me just as it was rushing out into the hall. Yep. She had a "flooder" right in front of the toilet!
Since having children some five years ago, I can't even begin to count the number of various liquids that I've encountered running along the nice wide grout lines in our kitchen, hall, and powder room. And those lines are like the express train, let me tell ya! Milk, juice, raw egg, bodily fluids...it's as if they know they can make a bigger mess if they just find a grout line and hop on! Uh! I digress...again!
So back to Ellie in front of the toilet. I grabbed her and plopped her on the toilet while simultaneously shoving area rugs out of the "express train's" way with my feet and beginning in on yet another explanation of "this is why you have to try to go to the bathroom more often and not wait...blah, blah, blah."
I sat down on a dry swath of rug and continued my explanation, thinking that I needed to seize the moment while the feeling was still fresh in her mind. Very uncharacteristically, she just sat and listened and looked straight at me. I was feeling successful! I even noted that she had slightly watery eyes. I thought, "This is good. She's taking this to heart but doesn't seem to be on the verge of crying." Then she interrupted me.
"Mom...do you know why I'm staring at you?"
"Because I don't know what you're talking about."
Sigh...at least she's cute...