I haven’t blogged about Easter. One of my best friends is Greek, so I thought I could hold out until Greek Easter and, even though we aren’t Greek, somehow make that work via a nice transition about Easter, friendship and spring but Greek Easter was May 5 and it’s May 30 so, well, whatever.
• I’m doing a lot of freelance work. So much so, that I’ve even allowed myself to hire a babysitter so that I can work some during the day. This is so.hard. for me to do. Because, if I do all my work at night, I make more money (by not spending some of it on a sitter). But lately Andy’s had to force me out of bed in the morning due to me working late most nights. I miss my evenings.
• We lost our camera. It might be in the van. Or my friend’s house. Or under a pile of clothes in my bedroom. But because of this, Andy hasn’t been able to upload any photos for me. So Owen and James, if you’re reading this years from now and wondering why I haven’t written about your birthday yet, this is why.
• I didn’t watch “Arrested Development” when it first aired. Therefore, Andy has convinced me that I need to watch all 60+ episodes so we can watch the new episodes together. So far I’ve watched four. (It’s really funny.) I have a long ways to go.
• Potty training.
I hate potty training.
I’m good at looking at the bright side. Today, for example, I mowed the grass. I bribed the kids (popsicles) to stay on the porch while I mowed and much of the mowing was done with me looking over at them seeing them screaming at me (likely because God forbid popsicle juice was dripping onto their fingers) while I mouthed “I can’t hear you!” and frantically tried to finish before they completely melted down. But. I got exercise. I worked on my tan (lines). Our yard looks (sort of) better. See? Bright side.
There’s no bright side to potty training.
The end result, you say? That’s potty trained. There’s no bright side to potty training.
Some highlights of today:
• I used the carpet cleaner four times.
• I cleaned the hardwood floor three times.
• James peed on my cell phone.
• The boys spent a considerable portion of the day outside, in their underwear and T-shirts.
• Owen, after I chased him down, picked him up and put him on the potty said, “I WANT TO GO TO A NEW HOUSE! I DON’T LIKE THIS HOUSE ANYMORE!”
• James earned one—ONE—sticker on his chart.
• Owen earned none.
Also, they hide.
Whenever the timer rings and it’s time for them to sit on the potty, they run and hide.
So there you go. My May.
I’ve been so eager to turn the calendar page to June.
“It’s been said that adults spend the first two years of their children’s lives trying to make them walk and talk, and the next sixteen years trying to get them to sit down and shut up. It’s the same way with potty training: Most adults spend the first few years of a child’s life cheerfully discussing pee and poopies, and how important it is to learn to put your pee-pee and poo-poo in the potty like big people do. But once children have mastered the art of toilet training, they are immediately forbidden to ever talk about poop, pee, toilets and other bathroom-related subjects again. Such things are now considered rude and vulgar, and are no longer rewarded with praise and cookies and juice boxes. One day you’re a superstar because you pooped in the toilet like a big boy, and the next day you’re sitting in the principal’s office because you said the word “poopy” in American History class (which, if you ask me, is the perfect place to say that word).” —Dav Pilkey, Captain Underpants and the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People