Not surprisingly, moving home doesn't mean we have any more time to spend playing; not with stone backsplashes to seal, privacy window film to install, butcher block tops to treat, and thousands of boxes to unpack.
So I hung out with Katrina after her "nap" (if having Julian join her in her room to play counts as a nap, grr), and got her to sit on the potty for a while. Then she wanted underpants, great.
She played outside for quite a while and stayed dry, so I took her upstairs to see if I could get her to sit on the potty again. Of course not, and then she literally got her knickers in a twist, insisting on putting both her legs through one leg-hole in her underpants and having a huge fit about not being able to put the underpants on, but refusing my help. Whatever.
Pretending to ignore her, I "tested" the shower in the bathroom again, spritzing the handshower all over the bathtub. And incredibly, the sound of dripping water did the job. She walked over to the little potty, sat down and concentrated for a moment, stood up, and announced her accomplishment. I couldn't believe it! This was no accident, no random event -- she made it happen.
She's been holding out on us!
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