This is pretty funny -- every time Katrina uses the little potty, she's very happy and proud of herself. Then she repeats what she always hears from grownups: "I'm so proud of you!"
I sent her to Tonya's in underpants today, and she did great except for one stinkie. It took Gabriel months to get solid on solids, so once again, it looks like she's taking after her brother. Tonya likes consistency, so she's going there in underpants every MWF now. At TLC, out of courtesy to the busy preschool teachers, she's going in Pull-Ups on Tu/Th, but that's only for a few more weeks, and I might talk to the teachers about trying underpants next week depending on how this weekend goes.
Someone again today suggested getting a portable potty to keep in the car, but I just can't imagine carrying that around. What, I'm supposed to carry it -- and its eventual contents -- around museums, the beach, grocery stores, hikes? Blah. No, she's got to learn to squat. Better yet, to use a real toilet. Her relentless resistance doesn't mean it's not sinking in -- that's a pattern with her: no no no no no no no no no no No No No No No...then suddenly -- OK!
Gabriel reminded us tonight that when he wants to give us trouble, he's the master. One rude comment escalated into being warned, then removed to the dining room for dinner, a swat for a particularly rude one ("then you stop being so STUPID Mom!"), a toy banished, two more toys banished, then sent to his room for the rest of the night.
It's stressful and unnerving facing off with Gabriel, because you just don't know where -- or if -- it's going to end. He can easily outlast the last resort. Julian's been the main source of evening angst around here lately, but he withers and screams and cries and carries on. It's intensely annoying, but in a strange threadlike sort of way, we're still in control. With Gabriel, our control is a thinly veiled illusion that someday, he'll break through like a karate kick through rice paper, unleashing his furious power.
Katrina, thank goodness, when scolded or even told gently that she can't do something, busts up into angry tears. This is much better; there's no escalation and she can generally be distracted or comforted out of it (though tonight she SHRIEKED in protest at being told -- gently -- not to play with the swinging door). If she were my only child, I might be mystified why smacking a defiant child would ever be necessary -- clearly there are other ways out of difficult situations! Sure, if they're like Katrina and actually respond or even cry when they're scolded. There's rarely any need to do anything more physical with her than to pick her up and move her. As much as she takes after her older brother, she doesn't have his iron backbone or icy courage.
Meantime, I'm so proud of her sudden turnaround on potty-training!