My Big Girl

Long live the Queen! But I wish she'd stay little a bit longer ...

Queenie has declared that she is officially a "Big Girl". This graduation in her mind has come about primarily due to the life-changing milestone of becoming potty-trained. I started trying to get her on board way back in June, thinking that 1) she was almost 3; 2) she is SMART; and 3) it would sure be nice to not be changing two kids' dirty diapers. Well, it was my idea and it was a bomb. Apparently, it had to be her idea. We tried everything--bribes in the form of treats and toys, threats (you won't get to go trick-or-treating), a new potty, a new potty-timing-watch, a new potty book, new underwear, ignore, pull-ups, no pull-ups ... This kid did not care and did not have a spark of desire to sit on the potty.

Per doctor's orders we left it alone for a couple months, but at preschool they were working on it too (watching a potty movie, sitting on the potty every hour). She had a system where she never pooped while at preschool. Until one day, when we were out all morning and she didn't go, and then we went straight to preschool. She pooped in her diaper that day and Teacher Ashley called me to come change her. Instead, I picked her up and took her home, telling her that if she pooped at preschool she couldn't go.

I kid you not, she was potty trained the next day. She put on underpants, bid adieu to the size 5's (I had given up hope and recently purchased a Costco box. Grrr....) and since then (2 months ago) has only had one small pooping accident and a few wet pants. You see why we call her Queenie.

I love that little princess, though. She is Loud (with a capital L!) and has beautiful golden hair which she has cut twice. She loves to use scissors to cut clothing tags and other paper slips to bits. She is pretty mischievous and I am often getting after her. I wanted to show more affection to this little bundle, and after I saw The Help, I started telling her "You are kind. You are smart. You are important." Now when I start, I say "You are kind ..." and she jumps in and says as quickly as she can, "I am kind. I am smart. I am important. I am sweet. I am pretty. I am beautiful. And I love you." Her long list of additional self-compliments makes me giggle every time and quietly rejoice in her confidence.

The other day she said, "I wish I was Kate." (her cousin) When I asked her why, she said, "Because she has Minnie Mouse shoes." Another time, out of the blue she sighed longingly and said, "I wish I lived in a candy house." I really don't know where that came from.

At dinner, we have started going around the table and saying what our favorite thing from that day was. She just doesn't get what we are doing. She always thinks we are saying our favorite thing we got for Christmas, so that's the answer she gives.

We went to the dentist with her for the first time last week. She put on a brave face and bore it all, but as she replied to the hygienist and dentist's questions, she was choking back sobs. I forget how tender her heart is, and how little she still is.

Today I took Man Cub and Queenie out in the double jogger for a brisk walk. The sky was stormy but mercurial--one minute flashing bright sunlight and the next minute gusting wind and drizzle. We found some prickly balls left hanging on the trees alongside the sidewalk and plucked them. Pretty soon we were running from ogres, using the prickly balls as magic talismans and searching for secret passages in the stone walls that we could slip through. Who knew my "exercise time" would be so pleasant (and fraught with danger)?

The other day the doorbell rang, and I found this happy surprise on my porch:

I guess I'm feeling a little sad that my baby girl is not such a baby anymore. She still seems awfully small to me, but she is ready to be like her sisters in all things ... except in doing the chores. I love my Queenie to pieces.