If she is a princess, make her a crown out of cardboard and explain that princesses do not go potty in their pants because it makes them smell bad. It's hard to adore a smelly princess. Plus, the potty can be her princess "throne"!

Also, try taking her in the bathroom with you, as you're both girls, she may decide she wants to go potty like you do. If she has questions answer them. My daughter decided she was a big girl and needed panties like big girls. No muss, no fuss, just off and runnin'. Limit drinking about an hour before bedtime too as that cuts down on night time accidents and helps with the confidence. If a kid is used to diapers, they may not have made the brain connection to how the urge to go feels. It's not easily explained if ya think about it.

Thanks, writer!

Mirror, I almost asked to borrow your Harley hat so I could ring my bells of blind faith......

Eerily beautiful, writer....Got a feeling you're not done with this one yet, hmmmmm

Go Wh'oman Gooooo!

Woolen Hood

A hunting falcon
Perched serenely on your arm.

Woolen hood
Pulled snugly over hunter's eyes.

Would you remove the hood
Granting freedom of sight?

Or

Can you only be justified
When you constantly pull
The wool over eyes?

Would you have me stroke
Your ego
With softly murmured lies?

Quickly then -
Replace that hood
Bind the truth within my eyes.

Thank-you, Kimmi and MzzzzEmmmmmm!

Always do, Mom, keeping him engulfed in Vibes O'Mom-ness,

Very endearing.

Brrrr chilling yet true for some. Off to start a dancing wood fire for those in need........................................

Nicely done!

thanks, y'all.

She's got a cookies-n-milk
kind of reputation.
She'll raise bread dough
but her hackles never rise.

She's the kind of woman
you don't lie to.
Cuz her disappointment
will cut you deeper
than any knives.

She's an oatmeal
and raisin
cookies and milk
kind of comfort.

I hold my breath waiting, longing for part 3.

Mirror are you out, here have a couple

Merle Haggard's, "Old Man From The Mountain"
The old man from the mountain's
Comin' home, home, home
Thought I'd better warn you
So I called you on the phone
Get rid of Joe the grinder
You better be there alone
'Cause the Old Man From The Mountain's
Comin' home.

I've been a-workin in the sawmill
I'm all up-tight and tense
And I got word that someone's
Been diggin' under my back fence
Thought I'd better call you
Let you know today
That the Old Man From The Mountain's
On his way.

Been workin' my dang fool head off
All for a dollar bill
Now I need a bunch of good lovin'
So I'm comin' down the hill
Don't want no friendly henry's
Warmin' up my bed
And the Old Man From The Mountain
Means what he said.



I’m in a bit of a bawdy tune mood, so I figured I’d do a song from Her point of view.


You’re out there somewhere
Ridin’ rank broncs & bulls.
When it comes to ridin women,
Well son, you better kn----ow

You bet-ter
Put that hammer down
And spin that rig around.
Ya better hit that highway
Flying to my door.

Cause I’m the Wench who cares
And I’ll get meaner than a bear
If ya dip that wick
In another's slick
With John Wayne Bobbit,
You will share.

Now, Joe the Grinder
He’s never done nothin for me.
He may be grindin coffee,
But he can’t
make this Wench cream.

A lady’s supposed to
be prim-n-proper,
But I gotta tell ya hun.

When that itchin’
Get’s to twitchin’
You’ll hear me holler,
“Honey, bring your gun!”


So, put that hammer down
And spin that rig around
You gotta Wench at home
Yeah buddy, you can please.

If ya need some inspiration,
Just remember my position
Legs thrown over your shoulders
Missionary
Or on my knees
Just get your butt home
and do me!!!!!!!

Cowboy Trust


The worries of a cowboy
Aren’t out there on his sleeve.
They’re burrowed in the muscles
Of his shoulders and his back.

He tends
To carry stuff
Like his does his saddle
And his tack.

A bounty hunter
Couldn’t find them
As they’re much too hard
To track.

He’s not a man who wallows
Or howls out his pains.
So if a cowboy shares them,
You know his trust you’ve gained.

I, um, oh WOW, holy maw batman, I leave these words stuck in my craw!

I was born into this life
not knowing how to speak or walk.

I learned to speak
not in flowing easily understood sentences,
but slowly, choppily, and with practice and
confidence learned
the fluidity of my speech grew.

My first steps were wobbly too.
I persisted realizing I could walk
and eventually run
much quicker and farther than I could crawl.

Sometimes, life feels like a balance beam.
Winds blow trying to knock me off.
Rains fall into my eyes making the way unclear.
I may drop to my knees and crawl again.
I may slither to my belly, hugging that beam
as I inch my way along,
and I may scream my incomprehensible language yet again
as my spirit urges me on..........................

My son would've loved this one. Ooo, words he could look up, speak intelligently, and then turn it into a rap --- Spew to da dentist and his sink
Spit dem Words
yeah, say what ya think.

My Momma, she taught me
the a'b'c's
taught 'em with rhythm
to say em
don't spray'em
turn 'em into words
not empty minded blurbs..............

Ab-ra-ca-da-bra
his screen name isn't long.
Musically he is inclined
and will include you
in his song.......................

Nicely written. Feel your way T-man. Tears not only help cleanse and heal, they act as a magnifying glass to deep feelings of loving smiles remembered and reflected in your own eyes with deeper meaning than any words could convey.