I knew it, I knew I shouldn't have done it. I just didn't have anything else to write about. Blogging rule broken, and I am sufficiently sorry about it.
Today I traumatized my daughter and may just have completely undone all of the potty training progress so far.
Today, we went to the Zoo for day camp. We went early to look at sharks and stingrays. We tried to go potty by the sharks. But the toilet, it kept flushing. You see, all successful public peeing was in ancient bathrooms. Not nice new ones with auto-flushers. It flushed, and she cowered, and it flushed more, and more and more.
And then I, not knowing how to make it stop, and certain that if she would just pee the fear would be gone, pushed it. I pushed her, and may have completely traumatized her. I know I'm traumatized a little myself.
I now know about post-its (never leave home without them) and toilet paper, and where every bathroom you can make your daughter scream at the in the Zoo is.
As penance I went out and bought a small fortune in undies. Every kind of character undies (except the damn princesses) that I could find. Screw the expensive training undies, we're going full force. She can do it, I know she can. I got more jersey shorts/pants. We've got dresses coming out of our ears. If she has a 50 percent success rate, I should be good for two days without laundry.
Please, if you're listening universe, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so happy about it. It won't happen again.
ETA: I don't know if I dare write this, but in trying to get her to poop, she is now wildly (and I do mean wildly shrieking and giggling uncontrollably) by her own farts. I find it hard not to laugh wildly with her.