Saturday, July 07, 2007

A Week Later


So have I told you the one about the kid who potty-trained herself in one day? After giving us the potty runaround for over a year? And who, though all week long we kept waiting for it, never had one accident, never needed to change her clothes, never failed to stop whatever activity she was engaged in--even when it was swimming lessons, even when it was running through the sprinkler, even when it was playing downstairs at someone else's house during a big 4th of July party--to tell us she had to use the bathroom? About how we never had to try the last-resort, bare-bottom method after all? And about how now that it's been a week since the big, desperate switch to underpants, it seems clear that, well, she potty-trained herself in one day?

Yeah. That one.

Isn't that just like Julia, though? To dismiss everyone else's ideas of what she should be doing when? To forge her own path?

Because do you remember the baby whose general attitude toward newborn life seemed to be something along the lines of, I'll make you all suffer for forcing me out of that comfy hideout I enjoyed for 39 weeks, just you wait, you fools. And whose perspective on sleep tended toward, Sleep is for wimps; who cares if I'm only ten weeks old, there is NO NEED for napping. Those other newborns snoozing all day are boring and slow, and I'll have my joint M.D./Ph.D. before they're out of sixth grade. And who took one look at the books of Richard Scarry at barely two years old and I swear, practically flipped her hair dismissively over her shoulder as she tucked it under her arm to go hide out with it for, oh, nine months or so. Basically saying, Yeah, so what if I'm only two and I'm supposed to still be reading Sandra Boynton board books; age recommendations are for the unimaginative. These days she's perusing a Kate diCamillo chapter book for six-to-eight-year-olds called Mercy Watson.

Yeah, yeah, so you know that girl. And most of you knew, didn't you, that after the failed M&Ms and the failed sticker chart and the failed ominous discussions about preschool and the failed Pamper's Feel 'N' Learns (Feel 'N' Don't Learn? Feel 'N' Learn Nothing? Feel 'N' Learn That These Seem Just Like Diapers, So I Will Now Wet Them?), she would go and throw a wild, glorious curveball like this one, and say, Ha. I'm done in a day. Now what to do with the rest of the summer?

2 comments:

Jim said...

I "figured" she would do it just like you said she did but I thought I'd not say anything of her plan and just let it be a surprize to you and Christopher. After all, it wasn't in much more than a day that one of my kids trained himself back a few years ago! Now, may I ask, what is going to happen to the left over MMs?

Nonna said...

Julia should get the whole glorious bag of M&M's to do with as she pleases!! (Well, almost!) I knew this kid would do it this way too.