Urinating as retribution... more potty fun!

As anyone who has been in the position (parent, relative, caregiver, etc) to train a small person in the ways and joys of the toilet can tell you, it ain't over til.... well... I can't exactly tell you. See, with potty training there is no end date, no gold star that suddenly appears on your chest or your child's bum or anything spiffy like that. Sometimes, you think the potty lady sang her last hooray song and then... you're in Target and it's a five alarm pooping! Regardless of whether you just put your child on the potty... and she is waiting with a small smile of oddly enough, triumph on her face. Ah yes, the days of "I'm in control now so let's see how fun I can make this" have arrived!

I had hoped with daughter number two, my previous experience, my education background and motherly tendencies it might go a wee (haha) bit smoother this time. After all, daughter number one (oh, I just got that- haha) practically trained herself, I mistakenly recalled in nostalgic moments to myself... MISTAKENLY. Ah, how this jaunt down the yellow brick road, as it were, has reminded me of the heartbreaks I once did experience and now relive with renewed vigor as I race with poo filled underwear to the demands of "Don't throw away Ariel undies, Mommy!" As well as cajoling, encouraging, bribing and slightly bullying this lovely creature to get her bum on requested pink urine/feces receptical "for the love of all that is holy!" I am also supposed to reward her? For pooping?  It is enough to drive me back to my prayers. Hallelujah there is pee IN the potty! Amen, Sweet Jesus the poo was made not in the underwear (or on the floor). Thank the lord we have such crappy looking carpets anyway. Forgive the pun, of course, God.

So, what prompted this Mad Mother (as in Mad Hatter, although my darling husband can attest to the alternative demonstration of the word by yours truly) to foray into tapping keys and sharing my toilet paper roll of funny? I had the fortune of observing my darling Two year old get into a battle Royale with my darling, usually calm and delightfully democratic Husband. He was mind-boggled when she in fact used her pee as revenge.

As usual, we are in disarray as the new school year approaches and all projects have been left to last minute. Dinner being a bit haphazard always means a struggle with our tiny fury. And so it was no surprise that as a power struggle over the last few bites ensued, a parental gauntlet was inadvertently thrown. To our girl's horror and dismay, chocolate rewards were threatened. Tears. Screaming. Hair was tossed. Chocolate was sadly dispatched to the waste basket. And then... she reminded us that she was in control. My husband found her standing in a wet spot, seemingly victorious. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!??!

Ah yes, We have reached my favorite phase of potty training. Accidents as parental punishment. She baldly admitted to me this was no accident. Okay.

This is a woman the world needs to watch out for- she will face down the loss of chocolate and then sneakily pee on her own rug in her favorite skirt to let you know- you cannot take it away from her! She will take it away herself! I can't decide whether I should silently applaud or buy some type of insurance... Does Geico sell Parental Insurance?

Please let daughter number three be easier!!! :D

Stay brave and thanks for reading.Boon Potty Bench Training Toilet (Google Affiliate Ad)

"There is no Mommy here"

Today, I have realized that I am EPICALLY FAILING as a Mother. No, really.

5:42am- awake to pee. Check on husband- occupied with Twitter- back away silently. Check on adorable infant... OH GOD!!! The tiny Bear is stirring- ABORT ABORT!!! Back away silently and hope like hell she has not sniffed out my mammaries. Fall asleep to my inner guilty refrain... Bad mommy bad mommy bad mom....zzzzz......

6:12am- forgot to pack husband's lunch! SHIT!!!! Realize this as he gently kisses me goodbye. Half ass slapping of leftovers together and several kids' snacks. He thanks me adoringly... resume inner guilty refrain/mantra... Bad Wifey Bad Wifey... Oh! Coffee!

6:13am- just going to check facebook and email a second....

7:33am- Whuh- oops. Forgot to drink coffee or eat breakfast... Toddler is up. Oh boy.

7:34am- Baby awakes, cooing ever so gently. I go to her room feeling happy- She and I make eye contact and she starts wailing loudly in manner of- MILK MILK MILK- but really she cries and says Boob. She is not even 8 months. Begins crying and squirming in earnest when I attempt to clean her rear of vegetable smelling defecant. After wiping her dry, she pauses and smiles up at me as if to say, "Thanks." Resume loving her and feeling guilty for angry thoughts two seconds ago regarding the option of a third. Bad mommy bad mommy bad mommy...

7:39am- Find Toddler eating my breakfast. What's next? Is my coffee level lower? Please tell me she didn't... Her breath is just muffin so I breathe a sigh of relief. I remind her to please use the potty...

SCREAMING ENSUES- It is an unusual mix of high pitched, loud wailing and whining that makes me wish for a nearby brick wall to abuse my head against....

8:18am- success on potty! Cheering for feces! My life is so strange. Rewards requested. DENIED. Wailing for that many minutes, resorting to screams on both sides (Mommy is ashamed) has now resulted in trip to nearby Mall denied. This behavior cannot be rewarded plus I do not think popping a potty in your stroller is acceptable at a chi-chi mall.

8:25am- NEW PLAN! We have made amends and Mommy is calm. Maybe a park?... Feeding the beasts

8:27am- breakfast finished and children are whining and demanding things. Feeding baby between filling requests and sipping coffee. Have forgotten to eat breakfast. Appetite gone after several meltdowns. Ugh.

9:19am resolved to good day. Had a lovely talk with girls. They are getting ready to leave the house. Yay! Mommy needs toast- Children ungratefully distract Mommy from breakfast...

9:20am- Mommy angrily vacuums after putting children outside to play in backyard. Baby in exersaucer begins to wail when vacuum turns on. This is new but at least I am getting the carpet cleaned.

9:21am- the neighbor girls call. I mutter indelicate thoughts and continue to vacuum though I have been spotted- creepy kid- through our front window. Answer and she is requesting to borrow cooler. Mutter crankily about this being US and coolers being widely available. Hand over cooler with smile.

9:56am- finally leave for park.

9:58am- arrive, wishing we could have walked but needed potty in car for Toddler. Girls playing well. Even make a friend. Going well! Nice Mom begins conversation.

10:13am Ah. Language barrier. Why didn't I learn Portuguese? Damn. Adult conversation ends.

10:32am- large group of children from the nearby Rec Center INVADE playground en masse, followed by very young looking minders. Not really minding children and mistakes my Toddler for a child in her charge. Gets my child seated and ready to paint until snot nosed child next to her points out she is not part of their group. My child gets bumped from painting and we are back to tantrums...

10:45am- everybody finally in the car and Mommy can't go home yet. I JUST CAN'T! Proceed to craft store to get paint to make it all better.

12:00pm- Everyone is glad we have finished in craft store. Managed not to break anything but accidentally bump into four year old and beg her to make it to car before total breakdown.

12:03pm- Two year old announces she wants a new Mommy....

And here is the real EPIC failure. I offer to call her New Mommy and my dramatic four year old is traumatized. My day isn't even half done and already I am DONE.

You politicians and misogynists who claim Stay-at-home-moms don't work have NO CLUE!!!! Is there a high yield Save for Therapy plan at my bank? I am sure my children will need it more than college.

Do the thing that scares you....

Ok dear reader,
   You few who enjoy this post, this one is for YOU.

A friend of mine describes me as a tough lady. Little does she know, I am afraid to hang my feet over the edge of the bed at night. I am afraid of looking behind the shower curtain sometimes. I am afraid of having no friends (facebook numbers seem unreal, don't they?). I am afraid to put my face under water (it just seems unnatural!). I am afraid of unseen bugs (I like to see my enemy coming. And I never want to accidentally eat them or let them make a nest in my ear, thank you Wrath of Khan!). I am afraid of being a bad mother (let those sweeties memories be short!). I am afraid of making a fool out of myself (because I do it daily). I am afraid of catching a ball (experience is the teacher here and I have a bump on the shnoz as reminder). I am afraid of cockroaches (EW!!! It wasn't my trip to Puerto Rico, but NYC that made this one happen). I am afraid of ghosts- even little girl ones. Sorry, but very true. This list could go on if I listed the things I am afraid of on behalf of my girls. AHHHHH!!!!

There are so many things every day that I might not do because of fear. It terrifies me a little to teach. To be a mother. To be a wife. Mainly I am just afraid of failing the people who I love. I am even afraid to write these words because in a way this is my public diary- to a limited audience but still. Yikes!

My redundant point is this- I am apparently perceived as tough (at least by a few), and my perception of myself is much less optimistic. (That's another fear- being too negative) Still, these fears DO NOT stop me from doing things every day. I also try very hard not to let them be my motivator. Fear is an ugly motivation- its effects? War, Poverty, Racism, Homophobia and Celebrity Breakdowns. Seriously. Did you see Katie Holmes lose tons of weight? Pure terror, I swear.

SO this fall, as I begin teaching, commit to running (just typing it made my chest constrict a little) and blogging more often (with a wittier banter, I promise), I commit to you few who read, who laugh with (or even laugh at, hey at least you are reading) and who may feel like me.

Courage is not the absence of fear, merely the choice to overcome it. I am choosing courage. Here we go!


What scares you? Share if you dare!