Hand Stamp
I had this idea, Adessa: as an extra incentive for your potty training, I thought I'd try a special reward for every time you at least gave going potty a good effort... that reward being an ink stamp of your choosing that we could then stamp on your hand. I wasn't sure if you'd be into it or not, but you never know until you give it a shot.
So we headed to Party City... the store is beyond enormous and it seems like they carry everything in stock that has to do with parties, celebrations, and fun. Surely they will have a big selection of ink stamps... right?
Ummm.... turns out that's a no. But they do have:
A giant Winnie-The-Pooh in the front window that you spotted from 200 feet away across the parking lot, crying out "Winnie-The-Pooh! There's Winnie-The-Pooh!"...
...and a giant gumball machine...
...and a wall full of hundreds of different themed mylar balloons!
Not wanting to leave empty-handed, we decided a balloon to take home wouldn't be a bad consolation prize. The trick: which balloon to choose? You were awestruck by the vast selection.
"Look, Daddy, a pirate!" (It was a leftover skull balloon from Halloween.)
"Pirates are scary," you explained. "They are mean."
I agreed and was secretly very glad you didn't want the skull balloon.
"Look," you exclaimed, pointing, "it's the Backyard Friends!" (A couple Backyardigans character balloons.)
Finally, you found the balloon you wanted: "Daddy, I want that one," you said, pointing in the vicinity of the Thomas The Train balloon.
"You want Thomas The Train?"
"No, that one. The star."
You'd chosen the High School Musical balloon. Well...
"Okay, sweetheart. When it's our turn, tell the lady you want that balloon and she'll blow it up for you."
Just moments later, as we got to the head of the queue, you told the lady which one you wanted, making a last-moment switch while pointing: "Dora."
Again, I was quietly relieved... I'll take Dora The Explorer over High School Musical any day...
The nice lady inflates your Dora balloon. You were fascinated watching her go from a flat, two-dimensional character...
To a floating, three-dimensional Dora in the sky.
Wow! She's really flying high.
Still and all, I was disappointed about not succeeding in our quest to find a hand stamp for you. Balloons are nice, but are hardly the handy reward for a successful potty training field goal or touchdown. Fortunately, the nice lady was able to direct us to a Michael's craft store across the way... yes! Of course they'll have the vast array of stamps we're looking for.
It took a little searching, but we finally found the mother lode: a rack of stamps conveniently displayed right at your eye level. You carefully considered the options... there was a bumble bee, and a crown... and then you spotted the one you wanted: a bunny rabbit.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
You considered it for a moment and then took one more peek at the rack... and then you saw the perfect stamp. Tinkerbell -- of course!
You then picked out your ink color -- fuschia -- and brought it up to the lady at the checkstand for purchase. And we made sure to get plenty of pennies in our change (more on that in tomorrow's post).
We'd been out for a while... playing, then lunch, then ice cream, then shopping... I figured now was the perfect time to see if this whole hand stamp incentive might actually work. So we went to the restroom to give it a try.
I explained to you: "If you give a real good try at going potty, then we'll stamp your hand with Tinkerbell. I just need you to give it a try, honey. Can you do that?"
"Daddy," you said, stopping me short. "I'm going to go pee-pee."
And you did -- no more explaining necessary. You were determined.
Needless to say, we had a little potty celebration -- hugs, high fives, and hallelujahs. One of the unforeseen joys of being a Daddy is being so excited over going potty. It's just one of those things you don't get until you find yourself in a public restroom celebrating with your daughter over a successful tinkle.
You couldn't wait to get outside and get your Tinkerbell stamp. You were so pleased at getting a stamp on your hand that you wanted another one on your other hand. "Daddy, can I do it by myself?" And you did, perfectly. I am beyond proud of you, Adessa.
Daddy
So we headed to Party City... the store is beyond enormous and it seems like they carry everything in stock that has to do with parties, celebrations, and fun. Surely they will have a big selection of ink stamps... right?
Ummm.... turns out that's a no. But they do have:
A giant Winnie-The-Pooh in the front window that you spotted from 200 feet away across the parking lot, crying out "Winnie-The-Pooh! There's Winnie-The-Pooh!"...
...and a giant gumball machine...
...and a wall full of hundreds of different themed mylar balloons!
Not wanting to leave empty-handed, we decided a balloon to take home wouldn't be a bad consolation prize. The trick: which balloon to choose? You were awestruck by the vast selection."Look, Daddy, a pirate!" (It was a leftover skull balloon from Halloween.)
"Pirates are scary," you explained. "They are mean."
I agreed and was secretly very glad you didn't want the skull balloon.
"Look," you exclaimed, pointing, "it's the Backyard Friends!" (A couple Backyardigans character balloons.)
Finally, you found the balloon you wanted: "Daddy, I want that one," you said, pointing in the vicinity of the Thomas The Train balloon.
"You want Thomas The Train?"
"No, that one. The star."
You'd chosen the High School Musical balloon. Well...
"Okay, sweetheart. When it's our turn, tell the lady you want that balloon and she'll blow it up for you."
Just moments later, as we got to the head of the queue, you told the lady which one you wanted, making a last-moment switch while pointing: "Dora."
Again, I was quietly relieved... I'll take Dora The Explorer over High School Musical any day...
The nice lady inflates your Dora balloon. You were fascinated watching her go from a flat, two-dimensional character...
To a floating, three-dimensional Dora in the sky.
Wow! She's really flying high.Still and all, I was disappointed about not succeeding in our quest to find a hand stamp for you. Balloons are nice, but are hardly the handy reward for a successful potty training field goal or touchdown. Fortunately, the nice lady was able to direct us to a Michael's craft store across the way... yes! Of course they'll have the vast array of stamps we're looking for.
It took a little searching, but we finally found the mother lode: a rack of stamps conveniently displayed right at your eye level. You carefully considered the options... there was a bumble bee, and a crown... and then you spotted the one you wanted: a bunny rabbit.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
You considered it for a moment and then took one more peek at the rack... and then you saw the perfect stamp. Tinkerbell -- of course!
You then picked out your ink color -- fuschia -- and brought it up to the lady at the checkstand for purchase. And we made sure to get plenty of pennies in our change (more on that in tomorrow's post).
We'd been out for a while... playing, then lunch, then ice cream, then shopping... I figured now was the perfect time to see if this whole hand stamp incentive might actually work. So we went to the restroom to give it a try.I explained to you: "If you give a real good try at going potty, then we'll stamp your hand with Tinkerbell. I just need you to give it a try, honey. Can you do that?"
"Daddy," you said, stopping me short. "I'm going to go pee-pee."
And you did -- no more explaining necessary. You were determined.
Needless to say, we had a little potty celebration -- hugs, high fives, and hallelujahs. One of the unforeseen joys of being a Daddy is being so excited over going potty. It's just one of those things you don't get until you find yourself in a public restroom celebrating with your daughter over a successful tinkle.
You couldn't wait to get outside and get your Tinkerbell stamp. You were so pleased at getting a stamp on your hand that you wanted another one on your other hand. "Daddy, can I do it by myself?" And you did, perfectly. I am beyond proud of you, Adessa.Daddy
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