The Power of "P"
by Jennifer Mally
Pee pee, potty, poopy, pull-ups, panties… We've been immersed in the "p" words lately, and I'm convinced this has to be some master marketer's little joke.
You guessed it -- potty training. For months, we worked, struggled, cajoled to get our two-year-old to embrace this potty thing. Even bribery didn't work.
Every time she had a successful go at it in her little potty, I even took to doing the "potty dance." Which is a touchdown-like dance in the end zone only, you know, there's no football and I'm in the bathroom. I'd raise my arms and jiggle around cheering, "pee pee in the potty, pee pee in the potty, go Greta, go Greta." It was wonderful when she'd dance with me, but most times she'd put her hands up, palms facing me and signaling me to stop. "Mommy, no dancing." My response, "Party pooper."
Still, it was only on rare occasions that she chose to use the bathroom. To her, I believe, it was much more time efficient not to. Her third birthday came and went, and she was fast outgrowing the diaper options. We tried pull-ups, she chose not to grasp the concept. I'd put her in panties, she'd let loose on her leg.
Until one day when another p-word came into play, perhaps the most powerful p-word of them all -- peer. She had her first play date at the home of a friend from daycare, a little girl just a couple of weeks older than Greta. She had a wonderful time and once home announced, "I want to wear pull-ups like Anna." So, we moved up the underwear chain to pull-ups with princesses on them.
The rest his history. Now she's in panties with pictures of Powerpuff girls.
Ah, the power of P.
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