The Befores and Afters of Potty-Training

For some reason, I want to share a little tidbit about potty-training.

I've convinced six children to give up the convenience of diapers, and it's not easy.

Something I've learned is to suggest pottying OFTEN. Accept the "no" answer, which will inevitably come. The problem for me, is that I often get busy with normal life that I don't remember to suggest potty-time...

So, one way I trigger my brain to suggest potty-time is the BEFORE and AFTER rule.

If it is mealtime, I suggest pottying first, and then again after the meal.

If we are going to go somewhere, I suggest a visit to the toilet before we get in the car, and after we have arrived.

If wee-little-pee-pee-person wants to watch a movie, I practically require some action in the bathroom before I'll turn on the TV... and then again, afterwards.

Bedtime gets the same consideration. My mom taught me not to put my little potty-trainers in diapers at night. She has some theories about how it affects their psychological development. So, part of the bedtime routine AND part of the wake-up routine is... you got it, potty-time!

It's a good tip for people like me who get easily distracted and might not remember that we're supposed to be spearheading the toilet-learning until we are cleaning up the accidents! 

The Parable of the Anti-Wrinkle Cream

Once upon a time, there was a cute girl whom we shall call "Cute Girl."

Well, she was pretty cute anyways. She had an easy-come smile (with straight teeth, thanks to braces) and twinkle-y eyes, and these combined well enough with her wit that she was able to get boys to ask her out.

Cute Girl had reasonably high self-esteem, and liked what she saw in the mirror enough that when she had to decide how to spend her time, she rarely decided that foundation, blush, mascara, eye-liner, etc. were worthwhile... partly because she was too lazy to wash them all off later!

So, Cute Girl took her cuteness for granted and figured she'd always be cute and never need make-up and hence she never developed any skin-care habits... like washing her face at night -- since there was nothing to wash off, why spend her time that way?

And since Cute Girl wasn't washing her face, she also wasn't moisturizing her face.

Cute Girl had a friend who sold Mary Kay and encouraged Cute Girl to purchase the products and get with the program. But did she do it? Nope. Cute Girl figured the friend was just out to make money and Cute Girl never felt like she had enough money anyways!

Well, Cute Girl eventually turned 38 years old, because everyone does (unless they, you know, ummm, die).

She looked in the mirror on her birthday and.... well, let's just say it was a good thing Cute Girl's self-esteem was no longer based on her cuteness!

Oh, she still had that smile that she shared selflessly! And her eyes could still sparkle -- if she'd gotten enough sleep! But these things were so crowded by wrinkles that she had to change her name to Wrinkly Woman.

Yikes.

How was she going to get her cuteness back?

She thought about her Mary Kay Friend who had very, very few wrinkles, and Wrinkly Woman devised a plan.

The day after her birthday, she went and bought 17 tubs of anti-wrinkle cream and spent approximately the next 74.6 hours washing and moisturizing, over and over and over and over and over and over, to make up for the many years of ignoring her Mary-Kay-Friend's advice.

She would plaster it on so thick, smearing it from ear to ear, rubbing it in especially hard on the outer edges of her eyes.

Guess what? She still has to use the name "Wrinkly Woman."

So.... What's the moral of the story?

And how does it apply to life outside the make-up industry?