potty trained?

Annabelle announced on Saturday that she is potty trained. Depending on how you count it, it either took a few days, a few weeks, a few months or a slap year to get this done. We bought the potty a year ago. Correction-- my mom bought the potty, because she said that at 14 months I was potty trained. Bull. Bull. Big fat Brahman Bull. I was mommy trained--where mommy was trained to take me to the bathroom. But occasionally Annabelle would pee on it. But we were still in diapers. We were off and on in panties since about the fall. Accidents were frequent and Annabelle would never tell me when she needed to go to the bathroom, so as soon as I got frustrated, the diapers came back on. Then we were more solid with the panties starting in about late February, but when I had to go somewhere, or on mother's day out, we were back in diapers. This past week, when I asked her if she wanted to wear panties or diapers to school, she said panties. And so I went to school and told the last hold out on potty training--Annabelle's teacher--that she was wearing panties and that was how it was going to be. Actually, since I am a little scared of her, it was more like "I am sorry, but Annabelle wanted to wear panties today, but don't worry, she has already pooped."

Then we went to fiesta in San Antonio. Fiesta is the best time you will ever have, with an event for everyone, including a Friday parade called the Battle of Flowers that shuts down the entire city and all the school districts. It is a completely wonderful, friendly, family-time that makes you fall in love with San Antonio because it is a city with an actual beating heart. But the bathroom situation is deplorable. I knew she would have to go. And I asked if she needed to and she said yes. So I dragged her and Hyphen (he was needed because I had a slight fear I would drop her down the outhouse hole) to the porta potty. Now, in my delicate condition, smells really get to me. Hyphen opened the door and got it all rigged up with a protective toilet paper covering. And I went in took a breath and gagged. This prompted Annabelle to say "No, I won't." But she was doing to potty dance, and I knew she needed to go, so I suggested that she go behind tree. She was cool with it, Hyphen on the other hand had some anxiety. He didn't want her to go to one tree, because it was too close to a cop. The other tree had dog poop near it. However, I pointed out that this made it a really good place to go, because dogs choose their spots carefully. So she went. We took off her panties, and she peed straight ahead like a man. Then we went back to our seats, where Grandma and Grandpa bought her a bunch of stuff made in China that they, in their 80s incarnation, would have told me and Audrey was for trashy people who like to waste their money. Viva Fiesta!

When we came home on Saturday and were unpacking our stuff, including but not limited to an inflatable Kai Lan doll, a pink parasol and glow-stick bracelets, Annabelle said "Mama, Papa, I am potty trained now."

So far, so good.