My child can’t pee in a pot, but she can say “Don’t bother me Daddy; I’m busy right now.”

As a parent, I’m pretty darn proud of all the things DD can do. She’s a smart little cookie. While other self-centered un-sharing two-year-olds may say “mine, mine, mine,” self-centered un-sharing DD pronounces “I want it. I want it. I want it.” She delights in responding “I think it is” when you ask her a question. And don’t get me started on all the words she knows and how she picks up EVERY … LITTLE … THING her daddy and I say.

She knows her mind, too. It’s no surprise to me that the photos Auntie A took at our “Mommy & Me” ballet class show all the little ballerinas off doing lovely stretches with their mommies at one end of the room while MY little pink-frocked ballerina is leaping from pink mat to pink mat at the other end of the room. She was, mind you, a bullfrog that day.



And her favorite phrase? Well, lately, it’s “I don’t like [insert word describing whatever you are offering her] ANY MORE.” No opinionated two-year-olds in this house, no sir-ee!

And did I mention her creativity? Each day, DD announces what she is. A horse that gallops. A bullfrog (that’s a favorite). A horse. A pumpkin. And once, a chocolate chip cookie. She has tea parties and conversations with her stuffed animals. The little trains in our dominoes set she has declared to be “baby trains,” the children of her large Fisher Price animal train choo-choo. I admit I’m pretty impressed by what she thinks up.

One of the things you learn as a parent, though, is that you shouldn’t be too hasty to declare your child as the most awesome at anything. We all know that mom or dad, right? The one who swears that little dumpling is the next incarnation of Marie Curie, Martha Graham, and Mother Teresa all rolled into one?

Yeah, I've got a good dose of parental humility. See, I must confess, my hyper-verbal, precocious little one refuses to “go potty.” Oh, the potty is fun, don’t get me wrong. She likes to sit on it. She likes to sit her stuffed animals on it. She likes to pull toilet paper off the roll. She likes to wipe. She likes to flush. She REALLY likes to wash her hands. But don’t count on getting anything actually IN the toilet. No, no, THAT is reserved for DIAPERS or, on some occasions, the SHOWER.

Panties? No … thank … you. She is not swayed by arguments that Mama wears panties and Daddy wears underpants, by videos of Elmo pooping in the pot, or by exclamations about how her little friends wear cute flowery underdrawers. DD “does not like panties ANY MORE.”

I’m not despondent. It’ll happen. Until it does, I’ll just content myself with listening to DD declare her likes and dislikes and be a “good little mama bullfrog” as she hops around.