The decision has been made, again, to talk to Katie about her attachment to both diapers and bottles.
The problem is that Katie isn't real prone to listening and we're not the most consistent talkers.
Our greatest accomplishment is when Katie falls asleep in the car without the aid of a bottle and we say it's good she's getting used to that.
Then we get home, tuck her into bed and make a fresh bottle to lay beside her.
Like I said, we're not the most consistent talkers.
Katie's stubbornness and her grand ability to throw fits will outdo our will to go without sleep every time.
I realized it would probably be a harder task than I imagined last night when she collapsed to the floor crying because she couldn't get the bottle to stay in her doll's mouth.
It was tragic.
I'm sure it's going to be a long war. I'm sure most of the battles will end in Katie's favor, but I'm equally sure we'll persevere in the end.
When it comes to things like this, I always say there's no need to pressure her. It's not like she'll have to take a bottle to junior high, right?
That's a poor argument by the way.
Not long ago I stood behind three giggling pre-teen girls who were buying candy bottles at a convenience store.
Maybe Katie's bottle addiction is the "in" thing now.
I never know.
The "in" thing has always eluded me (I noticed people are PAYING for jeans that have been dyed to look dirty. I thought paying for jeans with holes was bad, but this tops it. The good thing is my girls don't have to work too hard to be in fashion. Filth (from head to toe, is that still cool?) is all in a day's work for them.
Katie's generally a sunny child, especially at about 11 p.m. when she gets her second wind, which is probably why she's not real happy when I come into her room singing "Zipity do da, zipity a" at 7 a.m.
But, she never fails to smile when she sees a cold, fresh bottle set out.
It's part of her routine, as well as mine, and will probably be the downfall of the bottle battle.
Not that that's the only problem we have.
Katie is great at drinking out of a glass (comes from practicing in the bathtub).
She does well with a sippy cup, too. The problems is that when she gets tired of sitting in her high chair, or she's just not hungry, she takes a drink and dribbles it down her chin into her mashed potatoes.
Let's face it, a bottle is just easier. It travels well, it soothes, it quiets. She loves it, so what's the hurry?
I'd have similar issues with diapers if they weren't so expensive.
I'm not really bothered by diapers. My husband deals with all the trash, so he gets the brunt of the hardship (we throw dirty diapers away in a trash can on the deck. The other day we had big winds, which blew off the lid, followed by rain. I'm not supposed to tell you this but he emptied that sodden and nauseating load, put a new bag in and promptly threw up in it. He's really advocating potty training.)
I'm just not sure where to start, so I did what came natural. Katie stood up in the bathtub and peed. I said, "You're peeing Katie, you're peeing!" with a smile in my voice and a smile on my face.
It was my way of connecting the word with the function and making it a happy occasion.
Now every time she takes a bath (by she, I mean we), she stands up and pees and claps and laughs.
I guess that's a good first step. You think?
In the spirit of being supportive, I clap for her while privately groaning. So much for rinsing my hair, not to mention the thought that she might take her new skill beyond the bathroom (there's a genetic issue there. Her cousin learned to pee off the deck and his teacher's only complaint on his first day of preschool was that he wouldn't use the bathroom and kept going out to the play yard to pee).
Potty training isn't easy. You've got to consider the long-term impacts of everything you say and do in your move toward frilly, pink panties.
You've also got to consider the impacts of your successes.
Katie thinks the potty chair is a hat.