My daughter is attached to me at the hip. We sleep together, we eat together and you know what? We go to the bathroom together, too.
That’s right. I bring my daughter into the bathroom with me.
I see this as a matter of safety and not just a matter of convenience. When I am the only one at home with her, I’d rather lock her in the bathroom with me than leave her to her own cat-tail-pulling, electrical-socket-investigating, shoe-tasting devices. She knows exactly where to go when Mama says, “I have to go to the bathroom. Do you want to come with Mommy?”
“YEAH!” she exclaims excitedly, and she bolts down the hallway. (She never says “yes,” just “yeah!” I’m convinced it’s because she’s half Swedish. I’ve yet to catch her saying, “Bork! Bork! Bork!” though.)
Isobel is becoming more aware of her own bodily functions and she is probably not that far off from toilet training. We ask her frequently if her diaper is wet and if it’s time for a change. Sometimes she lets us know she has a poo poo. I’m always proud of her when she walks up to me and says, “Poo poo!” because she’s recognizing her body and its functions and holy hell! I just think that’s great. Clearly, she’s a genius.
Before we go any further I’d like to bring up the following facts:
- Everybody poops. I’m sorry if that offends your delicate sensibilities, but it’s a fact of life.
- When I was being toilet trained I always thought my turds were fishies and I’d happily wave “bye bye!” to them as I flushed the toilet. It’s #oversharewednesday so I just thought you should know.
There you have it. Everyone poops, and everyone has funny stories of toilet training.
But this story isn’t just about poo poo.
As I’ve mentioned probably dozens of times now, Isobel and I spend pleasant late afternoons and early evenings on the patio blowing bubbles, coloring with chalk, or digging around in birdseed. I bring a snack and we eat on the porch together followed by unwinding in the Indian summer sun. If she wants to stay outside for a couple hours, I open my laptop and work on some projects. After awhile she lets me know when she is ready to head inside and we make dinner while listening to the musical stylings of DJ Lance Rock.
One of the things she really likes to do is to help Mama water her plants. She calls all plants, “flower” and uses the Spanish term “agua” for “water.” Yesterday I set the hose on the edge of the chair and set my watering can beneath it. As water filled can it made that distinctive pouring noise that one usually hears while going to the bathroom.
“Mama!” she said, full of excitement, “Agua pee pee!”
“Yes, I guess it does sound like that when I go to the bathroom.”
“Agua! Pee pee!”
“Yup! You’re a smart girl.” I agreed with her. It totally sounded like pee pee now that I thought about it.
Then she ran her fingers through the stream of water as it left the hose and filled the can.
“Pee pee,” she said with wonder.