"Big Mommy"

It's funny that I start my first post on my first blog talking about the potty . . .it pretty much seals the deal that I'm a Mom. Rebekah has been "potty trained" for about 6 months now. She had been doing great, using the big potty at home and in public restrooms. All was well until we traveled to Myrtle Beach for our week at the beach. On the way we stopped at Chick-fil-A to use the restrooms and get some dinner to go. As Rebekah was using the potty, it flushed automatically. To say she was frightened doesn't do it justice (and I don't blame her). After that traumatic experience, using the public restroom was like putting a cat in water. She screamed so loud in restrooms that I was sure that someone was going to call Child Protective Services. We tried all sorts of ways to get her to use the potty--even looking for restrooms that didn't have automatic flushers. Her wonderful big brother even volunteered to go first so she could see that the toilet wouldn't flush. Over time she starting using the potty while we were out again. We praised her like she had just won a Nobel Peace prize. We told her what a big girl she was . . . the works. Yesterday Rebekah and I were at the grocery store and I had to use the restroom. She came in the stall with me and when I finished, I said "look at what a big girl I am." Rebekah quickly responded, "you aren't a big girl, you're a big mommy."