"Poopy on da potty"

A while ago--like a year or so--we decided to potty train Nedy. Seemed an easy proposition. She's a scary smart, generally easy-to-reason-with rational kid. And, from a Mama's perspective, going potty on the potty just makes sense. So, I had this plan to just explain that going potty on the potty just makes sense. And then, like *viola!* she'd go potty on the potty and we'd shed our diaper ties forever (well, not forever) in the blink of an eye. Because it just makes sense.

Ahem.

So, that plan lasted about 45 minutes. And then I gave up. (And ate all of the reward-intended Jelly Bellies myself.)

See, I know how Ned works. On minor issues, there's no point pushing this gal to do something she's not interested in doing. And, putting it mildly, she wasn't interested. So we moved on to Plan B. Plan B pretty much revolves around the concept that very few seventeen year olds are in diapers. We went all zen on potty training. As in, "When she wants to, she'll do it. In her own time, when she's ready."

Fast forward to September. Ned decided peeing in the potty seemed interesting enough to try. And pretty much from that first time forward, "pee-pees in da potty" was an every time thing. Accidents? Not so much. And Ned reported when she had to go without reminders. None of this 'take the kid to the potty chair every half hour', 'sit on the potty chair for crazy lengths of time', etc. Nope, not with Ned. She'd say, "Hey, I have to go pee-pees" followed by a beeline to the bathroom where she'd open the toilet lid, slap down her self-selected Elmo seat, and make the magic happen. It was great.

Except. Except that pee-pees and poop are not the same. And Ned fell victim to what I understand to be a common toddlerhood fear: If I let my poop fall into the toilet, who knows what else might fall out of me. Or something like that.

So. While she was "pee-pee trained", she required a diaper to poop. It went something like this: "Hey Mama, I have to poop. Can you take dis puw-up off me and put on my diapo?" Attempts to bribe her, incent her, etc.? Useless. Plan B continued for poop. All zen about poop. It'll happen when she's ready to do it... Yeah, right. Really? "Oh my gosh, this is CRAZY!!! Why won't she just poop in the damn toilet?!?!?!" But, I hid my inner poop angst from her and rode it out, obliging her diaper requests at 7:something every morning for her predictable deposit.

But that all changed Tuesday. (Yeah, this Tuesday. Am I jinxing this?) Dan and Ned were home when she said, "Baba, I have to poop. Can you put on my diapo?" And Dan said, "I want you to try. Just try on the toilet. And if it doesn't work, I'll put your diaper on." (Mind you, we've done this song and dance 50 times before.) As usual, she agreed to try. But this time was different. This time Baba had a stroke of genius. He left Ned sitting on the potty for "pwivacy" and grabbed his Iphone. And pulled up the Team Umizoomi theme song on YouTube. Now, Nedy digs her some Umizoomi. But she can only watch it at Grandma's once a week. No cable here at home. Well, Ned hears the song and starts yelling, "Umizoomi!!! Baba, you have Team Umizoomi on your phone?!? Can I watch it?!?" And Baba says, "This is just the song on YouTube. But, I'll make you a deal. You go poop on the potty and every time you do it, I'll download a new episode of Umizoomi." Her response? "Ooooooh, dis is GWEAT! I make poop on potty and get Umizoomi! DEAL!" And she proceeds to poop on the potty. (Followed by Baba and Nedy screaming, doing the "crazy shake" (it's an Umizoomi thing), and sending me a photo at work of her... ummm... creation...in celebration.

So she's pooped three times since that first time Tuesday. (She's a regular sort of kid. Wow, this is way too much information. I'm sorry.) And she's racked up four episodes of Umizoomi. And she's finally wearing her Hello Kitty underpants. (With tremendous pride, I might add. And tremendous cuteness. There is nothing cuter than a little butt in little undies.)

So, there you have it. I guess what I'm saying is, Ned potty-trained herself. She'd have it no other way.