I’ve been spending a remarkable amount of time in the bathroom lately.  No, it’s not because of my irritable-Celiac’s or whatever the hell is wrong with my insides, it’s because of something much worse…something much more debilitating….something much more frustrating….

Potty training.

I swore, a few weeks ago, that I had given up.  Although my daughter, who is not quite two and a half, expressed interest in the potty early in the spring, we’ve made virtually no progress.  She was becoming increasing annoyed with my frequent interruptions to her play time for a potty break. So when she made up a song, “I don’t poop on the potty…la,la,la…I poop on my body!”  I decided to quit irritating her and aggravating myself.

For two days I said nothing and she asked to go on the potty herself…and a few days after that?

A miracle.

Poop!

Poop in the potty…not on her body!

Unlike my boys, my daughter is very strong willed.  Even at two years old, it has to be her decision, not something her naggy mother asked her to do.

So anyway, after a mere two day hiatus, and a few victories, we’re back to potty training.  Cecilia didn’t come back to the table without a few demands, however, so we now have a new routine.  She likes to do her business most times in the nude (a-la-George-Castanza), she likes me to read her one book of her choosing, and then she likes to have her “pive-a-see” (privacy).

Leaving her alone is certainly an understandably request, but it’s risky business with a two and a half year old.  I’ve been down this road before and done my share of removing entire rolls of toilet paper from the toilet, sticking my arm way down into the crapper to recover Matchbox cars that sunk into the abyss, and more than my fair share of scrubbing little hands, toilet seats, floors, etc. of toilet water that has been splashed all over.

Gross.

So Cecilia’s need for pive-a-see and my own desire to not be intimate with the toilet bowl or any of it’s contents leaves me lingering close by the bathroom.

This morning I did several nonchalant walk-by’s the bathroom.  Each time Cecilia was just sitting in her birthday suit, tapping her feet and singing a song to herself.  When I asked if she was done, her cheerful sing-song abruptly stopped and I got a very toddleresque, “Noooooo! Pive-a-see! Pive-a-see!”

Fine.

She seemed okay and hadn’t gotten up, so I quickly made my way into the kitchen.  I rinsed a few dishes and put them in the dishwasher and washed a single pan.  I then walked around into my family room to hear Cecilia’s voice coming from the foyer but getting closer.

“Maaaaaagical!” she loudly proclaimed.

I stood frozen.

“Ohhhhh! Magical!” she repeated.

Call it mother’s intuition, but as innocent as it sounded, I knew it wasn’t going to be magical at all.  Then she appeared and confirmed my hunch.

Cecilia twirled and whirled around, totally nude except for a pair of purple socks and holding the Clorox toilet wand from the bathroom.  Each time she said “Magical” she was touching an object, and thus, I can only assume, making it magical.

Magically dirty….

Just after she touched the dog’s back and twirled to touch an ornament on the tree, I grabbed the wand, and magically, or not so much, crying ensued.

Really, it’s my fault.  I distinctly remember her asking me, “What’s that?” as we sat in the bathroom one day.  My response was “it’s a Clorox toilet wand,” and surely what she heard was “Blah-blah wand.”

So that morning, while singing and enjoying her pive-a-see, she most likely glanced up and saw the Clorox wand, sitting there next to the toilet, just like the sword in the stone, waiting for a fairy princess to pull it out and start making magic.

After about an hour of crying, trying to make other wands of household items, it (magically) came to me.  In a wholesale size box of Clorox toilet cleaner refills, they included an extra wand.

So here’s Cecilia, just a couple hours later, playing with her new magic wand.  It left me wondering why I paid so much money for Christmas presents…I could have saved hundred and bought stuff like this:

Smell this Berkeley!

Hugging her new, unused toilet wand leaves me praying this didn't happen with the other one.

If there's any magic left in the world, I'd wish that she didn't stick the old wand in her mouth...why are you licking your lips, child?!

Do your kids have any common household items they use as toys?  Any as gross as a used, dirty toilet brush?  Please share & leave me a comment!  And while you’re here,take a quick second and vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs by clicking the link below just one time…that’s all it takes!