Is This Progress?

Tonight we were winding down and enjoying (?) Sesame Street when Brenna produced a silent and deadly odor. After checking her pants, which revealed nothing, I asked if she needed to poopy. She nodded "yes" and up to the potty we went.

We read a book, we sang some songs, we made up a song about pushing out the poopy...

Then she looked ate me, eyes wide, and said, "Uh-oh."

And farted.

We never did get any poopy but this has to be the beginning of understanding. Right?

*************************************************************************************

I can tell you what she does understand. She understands that Daddy is a pushover. Tonight he was left in charge of bedtime. I folded some laundry, tossed another load in the dryer and settled in to the elimination episode of Rockstar: Supernova (what the hell is Zayara still doing there?!?!) when I hear the tell-tale sounds of little feet on the wood floor. Sure enough Brenna came downstairs followed by daddy who said, "She is tired but doesn't want to go to bed." Uh-huh. So she hung out with me; danced and applauded with the show. And went to bed at 9. Mommy's immune to the "I don't want to sleep" whining.