Potty

Hilary and I bought this pig in 1996 in Little Italy just before we got married. Hilary needed an alternative to the money bag that brides usually have to carry around to collect the cards from the guests at the reception. There was a funny old lady in the shop who kept saying as she wrapped it up "That's a bigga pig! That's a nicea size pig!" in a thick Italian accent. We cut a slot in this piggies back to make a bigga piggie bank. Now Mariana gets to ride it.

Potty time, potty time. This week Mariana started using the potty regularly. We have not pushed it, only suggesting now and then that she could use it if she wants. We went out and made a big deal over buying underwear at one of her teachers recommendations. We had to wait until she was ready and I guess now she is. It's kind of a big deal right? The other day we put her down for a nap and 10 minutes later she was screaming and crying for us. Turns out she needed to pee. This after only 3-4 days in underwear. I don't know about you but I was impressed. It does seem like she's crossing some boundary now that she can control her own log movement. And while we're on the subject, she wants to touch her poo. Where does that come from? I was thinking that it might have something to do with the fact that it's such a mysterious substance. It's intensely stinky, she made it inside of her and it's so taboo to touch it makes grown ups freak out when they get it under their fingernails (nasty). How fascinating! Even from the early going she's looked the part. I glanced over once and she had the potty over by the window and was sitting there reading a book. Man I wanted to take a picture of that but restrained myself.

I don't know if I can describe this scene well enough to do it justice but I'll give it a shot. I once read somewhere that it's good to talk to your children as much as possible. They hear language and absorb it like lil sponges. Perhaps I take it too far because sometimes I find myself babbling stuff to her and I'm not even paying attention to what I'm saying. We were walking up the stairs last night and I was chatting away and must have said something about some dude. I have a love/hate relationship with the word dude. I used to hate it as a kid for reasons I don't really remember. Perhaps it had something to do with the kids who used it: preppy assholes at my high school. However over the years I've met lots of great people who use it a lot and it just sort of amuses me now. Anyway, I must have made a reference to some dude while babbling to Mariana. Well she was listening and a few moments later started talking about some dude. I asked her "What dude are you talking about?" She looked at me and touched my chest, with her pudgy pointy little finger and said "This guy".