Elimination, Part 2

Or, "How to Overcome All Sense of Social Propriety in Just Eighteen Easy Months"

Tonight we were at the home of some new friends for dinner, together with about half a dozen guests whom we were meeting for the first time. Edith was playing very nicely by herself just behind my armchair, where our hosts had brought out their daughter's old Matchbox cars for her sake. The adults, all of whom except the hosts were 20- or 3o-something and childless, were engaged in somewhat shy get-to-know-you talk, when Edith emerged from around the back of the chair, announced "Poop," and grabbed at her rear. She repeated the word and action several times and looked anxious. So I whisked her off to check--though really, even had I been 100% certain she was clean I would have done the same, for how do you play that one off?

But this time she was for real! In fact, she looked uncomfortable and kept reminding me to change her right up until the diaper came off. The girl knows her shit. What a marvelous way to celebrate turning 1 1/2.

What's more, I was changing her on a bathroom floor, and when I was finished, she pointed to the toilet and said, "Potty. Mommy. Sit." And when I did, to reinforce whatever ideas she was putting together, she tore off some toilet paper and pretended to wipe herself, then handed the paper to me (okay, so we have a few things to work on). I asked if she wanted to sit on the toilet, and she was excited about that. Then she made sure we both washed our hands and as we were exiting said, "Bye-bye, potty."

I now understand how it is that otherwise reserved adults become compelled to discuss their children's toileting habits in public. Even this first step toward toilet-training is like a shining beacon in the long parental tunnel of Dirty Diapers. I've never before seen Edith show any sign that she was conscious of the toilet, much less of anyone using it. I don't think she has even been around all that much when we've used it, and we hadn't talked about it yet with her. But suddenly there it was: one of those moments when your child issues forth with a whole series of learned things you've never consciously taught her, and you once again marvel at how much the wheels have been turning. And at what a good thing it is that most growth and learning isn't up to the parents.

With apologies to all Edith's blog readers who haven't been there and think I've lost it...Next post, I'll turn to hygiene at the other, less objectionable end of the digestive system.