Christmas miracles.

Christmas came early to the Libutti household, and it's full of awe and wonder: Jenna is now potty trained.

Interestingly enough, she did it at almost the exactly same age as Michaela, which either points to a shared genetic quirk of extremely late potty training or my total ineptitude at training them. I am their mom and live with them and even I think it's a toss up.

I guess I take a very laid- back approach after introducing it to them. I read them the books. I bought the pullups and the pretty underwear. I get the little potty out, quite hopefully. I offer and offer and offer some more. And they both steadfastly refuse to have ANYTHING to do with it. And at that point, I'm out. I let them decide when they are ready.

To me, the whole potty training thing is a wonderful way to feel self-righteous if your kid does it early and also is a way to really sock it to us moms who have late trainers. I just refuse to engage in a battle with my kid about their body and bodily functions. If they don't want to engage, you are just beating your head against a wall. I really liked my pediatrician's advice at Michaela's 4 year old physical: "Don't ever mention it again to her. She'll do it when she's ready."

And that's just what happened.

Jenna has followed the same trajectory: the same books, same pullups, new underwear, same potty, same hopeful offers. And she did the same thing: totally refused to have anything to do with it.

Then a few weeks ago, Jenna developed a diaper rash and I used this as a teaching tool. So last Thursday I said very quietly to her, This is your skin telling you that it is time to start going on the potty and not wear diapers anymore.

And she said, "Okay. I'll start on Saturday."

And Saturday came, she put on underwear, and that was that. She's had one accident and done an absolutely beautiful job. No struggle. No begging. No resistance. It has been such a wonderful joy to not have to change two kids diapers anymore and not have to deal with soaking wet diapers and a four and a half year old's poop up close any more. I feel... cleaner.

The best story out of the whole thing was this: on Tuesday afternoon, she found some diapers of hers we kept for emergencies in the center console of our car. "Oh! These are diapers!! I remember when I used to wear diapers... " she said with a knowing, wistful laugh.

Ahhh, yes... that was AGES ago.