Her nickname for herself is "Daisy-wazy-wazeee". This comes from her Dad creating a little song of "Daisy, Daisy, Daisy" and her completely misinterpreting it. The funny thing is that, when I picked her up from pre-school the other week, one of her little toe-head friends actually called her that. I almost died laughing. Somewhere along the line she's obviously been telling kids to call her this. DYING!
The good news of the month is that Daisy is pretty much potty trained. Although she continues to have the odd accident and is not quite adept at ensuring her panties are pulled down low enough (ahem) she's 100% diaper free except for at night and during naps. Whoooheee, you say! Except, of course, as every parent who has passed through this stage knows, this just means that we now get to be up-close-and-personal with the whole peeing and pooping process. Since she can't always make it to the restroom in time, we keep the potty local. Result: every room in our house is a stand-by bathroom. Nice.
Another surprise is that she has suddenly acquired a fear of public restrooms. Now, I'll readily admit, I'll avoid the damn places at all possible costs. If I can cork it until I get home, I will. So, I'm not expecting her to be all excited about peeing in a urine-soaked, gas-station toilet or anything. However, the reason for her fits of panic (and it's Daisy, so it is a full-body fit accompanied by high-pitched screaming) is that.... wait for it... she does not like "the flushie."
This came on suddenly, however, last weekend, after some very successful and tantrum-free public restroom visits. But there I found myself, in a restaurant bathroom after she told me she had to "go", trying to avoid dropping my writhing 2 year old on the dirty toilet floor because she didn't want to sit her ass on the toilet seat. She was so violent that other patrons actually asked if everything was ok. Yes, it sounded like I was murdering her in there.
Fortunately, I had brought the small, portable Bjorn potty with me and found a way to get around her aversion: I now carry the potty in my back-pack and take it into public restrooms with us (thanks Auntie Mala for the stellar idea.) This, apparently, is acceptable (to her). Although not always convenient. This weekend we went to an outdoor event with only porta-potties for restrooms and my mother (GOD BLESS her) had to take the potty in with her, put it on the floor (gag), have Daisy pee in the potty, dispose of it down the hell-hole, clean the potty with a wipe, and return it to the backpack. I waited outside, you know, just in case they needed anything.
Other fun potty moments included this evening at a local restaurant. Off me and Missy went with our backpack to the restroom, did our thing successfully, and emerged, running to Daddy at the table, screaming: "DADDEEEE!!! I WENT PEE-PEE IN THE POTTY!" The restaurant is not formal but it is fairly quiet (kind of a senior establishment) so this went over a treat with the dining patrons. Ahem!
Outside of bodily functions, life is ticking along pretty much as expected, doing all the stuff you'd expect from a toddler girl. Except for hair bows and ponytails. Still no luck in that direction. This is about as good as it gets.
We still LOVE our books
Although ballet lessons were a FAIL, we still love to dance. Pumped up Kicks is our favorite song right now (although none of us knows what the heck it's about and, judging by some comments on Facebook, that's probably a good thing) along with a cover of the 1980s Van Halen Classic, Jump, by English girl-group, Girls Aloud. The latter of which, of course, results in A LOT of jumping.
And finally, I leave you with the many faces of Daisy, who has become quite the camera ham (when she chooses to be.) She's the perfect photo practice: always on the move, head down, and never compliant.
Nope... NOTHING like me at all.
1 comment:
She is just amazing. And she looks a little taller, too. What a treat she is. Can't wait to see her again.
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