it's official.

ellie is potty trained.

after months of quasi-trying, ellie decided it was high time to do this thing. at the tender, potty-training age of 35 months. ahem.

last sunday, i put a pair of panties on her after her nap. she told me she had to peepee a couple times before she had a no. 2 accident in her panties. on the advice of several other people who've done this once or twice, ellie was required to clean herself up with no help from mommy. i wasn't mad or shaming. i just calmly watched and handed out wipees as she did her best to clean a messy mess. she was getting it on her socks and her arms and her hands and... yeah. not pretty.

since then, she has not had an accident in eight days.

she has worn her panties to restaurants and to church and shopping. all day long except for naps and nighttime. she gets irritated when i make her change into a pull up when she goes to sleep. more often than not, she's waking up dry; calling me from her bed to take her to the potty, even though she's in a pull up.

i watch her dance around, shaking her tiny pantie-clad booty, and i imagine ballet rehearsal, tights baggy at the ankles, and preschool with a tiny backpack and lunch sack. and then i cry. a lot.

she's so big. my sugar-plum-big-girl-baby* is so big.

i am so proud of her.

*ellie combines all the things i call her, saying, "i'm your sugar-plum-big-girl-baby, right, mommy?" right, baby. right. even when you won't dance around in the living room with me in just your panties anymore, you'll always be my sugar-plum-big-girl-baby.