You Can Wear Diapers Forever If You Want To

I hate potty training.

At first there's hope.  "Hooray!  You went in your frog potty!  Here's your M&M!"

After that first triumph you think YOU GOT IT.  Your kid is going to do it all the time now in the potty for those dang M&Ms and then later for the shear glory of not having wet pants or standing in a warm puddle.  (Then you eat all the M&Ms yourself, because you need a reward too.  For breathing and stuff like that.)

The first accident occurs.  Keep it positive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you remind yourself.  So you use a high pitched voice and say dumb things like, "Hey, don't worry about it buddy!  or "Everyone has an accident now and then!"  You scoop them up in a family hug and then congratulate yourself for being a cool, laid-back parent that handles things the RIGHT way.

Let's fast-forward this hippie love fest a bit.

It's 3 weeks later.  Your kid is doing pretty well, all things considered.  He wakes up dry, has learned to "shake it off" on his own (PTL), and really seems to get it.  The M&Ms aren't working anymore mostly because you eat them before they are effective, so now you ask him every 5 minutes about the current state of his bladder and colon, because you have other things to do than mop up urine or, god forbid, a steamer off the floor.  When your kid has an accident, you give a hug and grunt something like, "Uh-oh!" or "Oops", but you don't have the same enthusiasm to keep it all happy fun-fun/no worries mon like you did before. 

At 10 weeks you are a hostage.  Want to go run some errands?  What's his potty status?  Has he pooped today?  Do you have your back-up bag?  How much juice did he drink?  How long ago?  What's the humidity level outside? 

Hey, let's go to dinner.  No, we can't.  He hasn't pooped in two days because he's holding it because he refuses to go on the potty.  No doubt that at some point between the appetizer and the entree, the gates of hell will part and the stinking bowels of said hell and/or your child will steam up the room and ruin everyone's appetite.  EVERYONE'S because everyone will look at you and your kid with the big lump in the butt of his pants and they will scream and point and run.

Accidents now go like this: Mama, I pooped my pants.
 ::::Big Sigh::::What?!!  Why did you do that?  I just asked you two minutes ago if you had to go!  Come on, buddy, this is getting silly now.  Are you a baby or a big boy?  (Because, you know, shaming is a really cool parental tool, LOSER).

 A red face, a weird face, a quiet moment--all these things are now approached with sheer terror and a herding off to the toilet, usually to complete failure.  We went to the zoo the other day and Brixton poop-fooled me at least 7 times.  That's 7 times where I ran him into the potty, got him up there, watched him sit there and mock me in a sing-song voice "I don't have to go!", wash hands, etc.  Exhausting. 

After all that he just pooped his pants and then complained that I didn't get him to the toilet fast enough.  Tell me again, why are diapers frowned upon??

Cat Eye

It's Friday night and I'm free.  So I'm blogging.  Lame.  10 years ago I would have been methodically getting ready for a night out.  Picked up by a big black car.  Wearing heels, an overly padded bra, big hair and a pout.  Dancing.  Eating burritos at 2 am from a taco stand in Hillcrest.  Laughing wildly with the window down and music up.  Stone cold sober, TYVM, because I just wasn't that girl. 

10 years ago I was wildly unhappy.

And so I blog.  Because doing all of the above now would just be..out of place, strange, desperate.  And plus, I'm much happier now.  And 20 lbs heavier, so no need for padded bras anymore.  Not sure how to feel about that.

It's Friday night and I'm free.  So I went to Sephora (Sepora as my mother calls it, despite my correcting her umpteen times.  I think she just does it on purpose now, just out of a sick spite).  Who doesn't want to meander through the little aisles with the bright packages?  My left hand tried on about 15 different lotions and creams, which might explain why it looks a few years younger than the right.  I spritzed perfume.  I got a 20 minute lesson in doing a cat eye (which is very dramatic and I love, but I think it's too much for my eyes..sigh).

 I've been binge watching Mad Men.  Every chance I get.  I find myself repulsed by and yet attracted to Don Draper.  I think he's a sociopath.  Right now I'm in season 5.  Things seem to be going well with Megan.  I'm sure he'll mess it up somehow.  That show makes me want to smoke.  I'm one of those sucker who thinks smoking can look glamorous.  Too bad it smells like trash and gives you cancer.

It's Friday night and I'm free.  So I weeded in my veggie garden.  I call it a veggie garden, though it hasn't yielded anything but disappointment.  Bumper crop.  Too much shade.  I was going to leave, but then I saw Brendan working in the yard, so I thought I'd do my part, being a good communist/wife and all.  So I dug up some stones and made a pile.  Then I got to drive the lawn mower and help Brendan remove a stump from our yard.  That got me pretty comfortable on the mower, so I just decided to mow the front yard.  It was oddly satisfying. 

Do you ever have dreams about people you knew in high school?  OMgosh I just can't stop.  I must have a lot of high school issues floating around up there.  Mostly crushes on guys.  I had a million crushes on guys in high school.   The problem is is that I dream of them and we are dating or something and then I wake up and I'm like, "Oh, that was so sweet.  How is that guy??"  Another problem is that I dream of the same 5 guys often.  Sorry guys, I'm MARRIED.