Sunday, February 05, 2006

The Bambina: Milliner to the Stars

Perhaps the funniest moment of my mommyhood occurred yesterday. I tell it to you, my closest most personal friends only, because The Bambina would absolutely cringe when she turns 14 to find out that anyone else had been told about this incident. Aw, hell wid it. That's my job as the parent: to embarrass her with cute stories.

As you know, The Bambina is now mostly using the potty except for the times when she just kind of wants to sit around on it without actually "producing" anything. She just kind of likes road testing it, I think. As you also know, I haven't peed alone since March of 2005, since infants require constant attention and toddlers can't imagine that you have any business that doesn't by definition involve them. The truth is, Dr. Spock says that kids learn to use the potty by seeing others do it, wanting to emulate, and learning to not be afraid of it. So I am all okay with her hanging out with me while I'm on the toilet, and I'm pretty sure that's one of the reasons she has pretty much potty trained herself with minimum drama (so far). As long as she's been sentient, she has known what the Mommy Potty is and what the Bambina Potty is. Recently, however, she has been exclusively using the Mommy Potty, finding the Bambina Potty to be a tad juvenile and more useful as a stepstool for toothbrushing at the sink. To that end, she takes her little potty seat and starts trying to put it on the Mommy Potty WHILE MOMMY IS ON THE MOMMY POTTY. This of course has sparked numerous physics-related and existential discussions between us along the lines of, "My love, you cannot put the little seat on the potty while mommy is ON the potty! How would that work?! Show me how that would work." Which prompts her to do it again.

Yesterday I left her futzing in the bathroom as I ran into my closet to get some non-kiddie play-doh'd food stained clothes on for going out. She followed me into my closet with potty seat in hand. While I was putting on my jeans she decided to do a little vaudeville act for me, first doing peekaboo through the seat hole, then putting it on the ground and putting her feet in/out, in/out of it, ending spectacularly with her next act which was to put it on her head like a hat. I clapped but then immediately happened to look away in order to pull a sweater over my head. When I looked back at her, she was starting to whimper and get upset. Why, you ask?

Because the seat was stuck on her head. And stuck so securely that even I could not get it off with a few gentle tugs or twists. So I, blessed and compassionate mother of beloved child, started involuntarily laughing to the extent that I was having trouble staying physically coordinated so as to assist with the "hat" removal. I was saying, "oh sweetie, it's okay, mommy's getting it off; don't worry; just hold still. Hold still. Hold still!" But I was saying it while laughing because, well, there is nothing else to do when your child has a plastic potty seat stuck on her head.

I managed to sit her down, calm her down, and get her to sit still for 0.7 seconds so I could ever so slightly shift the angle of the seat hole---and VOILA!--once again a hatless Bambina getting lots of hugs and kisses from her still laughing mommy. She obviously sustained no physical or psychological damage from The Potty Hat Incident.
Just don't tell her I told you, and definitely don't say that it is the number one funniest thing she's ever done. Because she'll probably get all uppity and say that her best work is yet to come...

1 comment:

misterfed said...

Yes, not laughing at the kids is a skill I have yet to master.

Yesterday Evan got stuck under his own bed -- well, not so much stuck as lost in the maze of boxes of stored toddler clothes. He was down there with a flashlight looking for the second pink play gardening glove; he was wearing the first, which he had borrowed from his sister. I dragged him out by an ankle, pink-gloved hand flailing.