Some things I am grateful for on my daughter’s 4th bday

1.Potty Training: Oh my god, you did it! It boggles the mind, really, that we have to learn how to do this. And it’s not just a natural progression, one has to be cajoled, bribed, encouraged, discouraged, and sometimes downright yelled at before one finally accedes to this particular nicety of civilization. Man, it was one long, long year. I remember that first day being particularly trying. But eventually it got better, at times got worse, then got better (then worse)—I don’t think I’ve ever done more laundry. I was always having to clean the kid’s clothes. After 6 months, she was pretty good with the pee, but seemed hopeless with the poop. I resorted to toy bribery and thus have a play room full of Dora the Explorer toys. I threw away countless pairs of panties, I mean, they cost about 50 cents each, and some messes weren’t worth that much. Oh, there was so much poop. I’m really grateful she’s an evening pooper, which saved me some embarrassment at her school. But somewhere along the line, really in these past three months, she’s pretty damn good with using the toilet. There are times I wander into her bathroom and just see some poop in the toilet. Of course, after I see it and congratulate her on a job well done, I feel a strong need to wipe her butt just one more time. You know, skid marks are so unattractive. And stinky. So one year later, hooray, she’s potty trained. (Now if I can just get her to remember to flush the toilet.)
2. Dressing Yourself: Sure, sometimes you want to wear a skirt when it’s cold out, or pants when it’s boiling hot, but I love the fact that I can just say, “Go get dressed.” And you’ll do it.
3. Telling me where it hurts: Oh, I got so tired of guessing. I mean, mom’s intuition usually led me to the right boo boo, but it’s so much nicer (and less time consuming) when I just ask if your tummy hurts. We do still need to work on letting me know in advance when you’re going to vomit, ok?
4. You will finally, albeit briefly, smile for the camera.
5. You like to go on hikes with me, and don’t balk too much when I tell you you’re too heavy to carry all the way home.

Of course, there’s so much more to be grateful for, and much to be just joyous about in general, but Z, you’re the bees knees. The best thing that’s ever happened to me and your daddy. Thank you for being so sweet.