So long, diapers. We don’t need you now.

Emily and Erica have moved on. Two weeks ago, on a Friday, we made a big deal about it being “panties” day. We put them on first thing in the morning, used the potty all day, and haven’t looked back. We’ve talked over and over about all the people we know who wear panties. We’ve made it to church and to the park and to the store and back without any trouble. Oh, yeah, except for the we-had-to-buy-the-flower-flip-flops-at-Target-because-they-got-pee-pee-on-them incident. A few days after that, on our first long afternoon of errands, we made eleven trips to the potty. Which means that if each trip takes a minimum of ten minutes, by the time we walked there, got it done, and walked back to wherever we started from, we spent 110 minutes going to the potty. Yes. That’s almost two hours.  Their reward. . . they got to pick out new princess dresses at Target after we made it for one week without diapers.  My reward. . . serious cash to use for something else, and the knowledge that I have, at last, passed this test in my life as a mom.