Ava and the Little Blue Potty

Ava had a little blue potty, and it lived right by the bathroom wall. It was small. It was smooth. It was just the right size for Ava. Mom said, "This potty is yours, Ava." And Ava said, "Mine."

The potty was not scary. It did not make big noises. It did not move. It just sat there, quiet as a little blue bowl, waiting. Sometimes Ava patted it. Pat, pat, pat. The potty did not mind at all.

In the morning, Mom poured milk, and the sun came in the window all warm and yellow. Mom said, "Would you like to sit on your potty?" Ava thought about it. Then Ava said, "Okay."

She pulled down her pants. She sat down. The potty felt cool, then warm, then just right. Ava sat. Mom sat on the floor beside her. They waited. They waited some more. Nothing happened, and that was okay.

"That's okay," said Mom. "Sitting is good. We can try again later." Ava stood up. She pulled up her pants. She gave the potty a pat. Pat, pat, pat.

Later, Ava was busy. She was stacking blocks. One block, two blocks, three blocks tall. And then, oh — a little puddle on the floor. Warm on her legs. Wet on her socks.

Ava looked at Mom. Her chin went wobbly.

But Mom just smiled. "That's okay," said Mom. "Bodies are learning. Legs get wet sometimes. We will clean it up." Mom got a soft towel. Swish, swish, swish went the towel on the floor. Ava helped. Swish, swish. Dry again.

Then came dry socks, dry pants, and a big hug. "We can try again," said Mom. And Ava said, "Try again."

After lunch, Ava felt a little feeling. A little wiggle feeling. A little hurry-up feeling, deep down low.

"Potty," said Ava.

"Potty," said Mom.

They walked, not fast, just steady, to the little blue potty by the wall. Ava pulled down her pants. Ava sat. The potty was quiet. The room was quiet. Ava waited.

And then — tinkle, tinkle, tinkle. A small sound. A soft sound. Like rain on a leaf.

Ava's eyes got round. "Mom!" she said. "I did it!"

"You did it," said Mom, very softly, the way you talk when something lovely happens. They did not shout. They did not make a big loud noise. They just held hands and did a tiny wiggle dance, right there on the bathroom rug. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. That was the celebration, and it was just the right size.

Mom poured the potty into the big toilet. Whoosh went the water. Ava waved. "Bye-bye," said Ava. Then she washed her hands. Warm water. Bubbly soap. Rub, rub, rub. Dry on the little towel.

All afternoon, the potty sat by the wall, quiet and patient. Ava used it again before snack time. Tinkle, tinkle. Wiggle, wiggle. And once she forgot, and her pants got a little wet, and Mom said, "That's okay," and got dry pants, and that was the end of it. No big deal. Just a small wet thing, and then a dry thing, and then playing again.

When the sky turned pink, Mom opened the drawer. Inside were Ava's big-kid underwear, folded in a soft little pile. There were yellow ones. There were striped ones. There was a pair with tiny ducks.

"Which ones for bed?" asked Mom.

"Ducks," said Ava.

So Ava put on her duck underwear, and then her soft pajamas over the top, and the pajamas felt cozy and warm. Mom said, "Your potty will be right there if you need it in the night. I will help you. All you have to do is say my name."

Ava brushed her teeth. Scrubba, scrubba, scrubba. She sat on the potty one more time, just in case. Tinkle, tinkle. Wiggle, wiggle. Then hands washed, warm and bubbly, and a towel, and a yawn.

In her room, the lamp made a small gold circle on the wall. Mom read one little book. Then she tucked the blanket under Ava's chin, soft and snug, the way Ava likes it.

"You tried," said Mom. "And when it didn't work, you tried again. And then it worked. That is just how learning goes."

Ava snuggled down. Her duck underwear was soft. Her blanket was soft. The night was soft too, dark and quiet outside the window, with one little star sitting up there like a nightlight for the whole world.

Down the hall, the little blue potty waited by the wall, patient and calm. The house was quiet. Mom's hand was warm on Ava's back, slow and steady, round and round. Ava's eyes got heavy. Her breathing got slow. And in her cozy bed, in her big-kid underwear, Ava drifted all the way down into sleep, safe and warm, until morning.