The Princess and the Pee

So we've joined a playgroup.  It's technically a group for two- and three-year-old girls, but three of the moms also have little boys born last fall.  We usually meet at a park on Tuesdays, and with all these toddlers, talk always circles around to potty training.

When Becca was tiny we thought she'd be really, really easy to train.  She HATED wet diapers, so much so that she'd cry every time she was a tiny bit wet.  She even went through a phase where she'd cry, I'd start to take off a dry diaper, she'd tinkle at me (something I mistakenly thought was a boy thing), and then smile as she got a new, dry diaper.  I got smarter about opening and re-closing the old one, waiting for the flood, and then stripping her down.  

She'd wake us up at night, just to be changed.  I got really good at changing her in her little bed without letting her totally wake up, but not really good about doing it without waking up myself.  This disappeared after a while.

Now she has a new trick.  

Along with the sippy cup and increased fluid intake, is, well, you know.  So we change more diapers.  Last week she had me up at 4 a.m. because her Pampers couldn't take the pressure.  We cut back the water the next night, but when I went to rub her back to sleep in the early morning I hit wet jammies, sheets, and baby.  This time, though, the diaper was almost totally dry.  I less-than-sweetly explained this to Rich, who'd put on the (incredibly loose) diaper in question, as I wiped her down and put her in dry jams.  Just as I was zipping her up, I caught her reaching down and pulling one of the tabs back open.  

 I'm really beginning to wonder how easy this training is going to be.  Little stinker.