Life is a comedy these days, friends. A comedy in which physical humor prevails and the crazed mother-heroine is invariably covered in strained peas. Two nights ago, a ceramic bowl shattered at the end of dinner, riiiiight after I announced that I was about to lose my mind. There seems to be a pattern wherein a mini disaster strikes just as I’m starting to eat my dinner. This has led me to adopt some less than civil eating habits. “Hurry,” I whisper to myself as I shovel in the grub. “The children aren’t watching.”
Tonight, I freed an antsy Linus from his highchair in the middle of dinner and dared to savor a few bites of ginger chicken at a “normal person” pace. The next thing I knew, Linus was walking across the living room waving a training potty full of pee. A joyful cackle escaped from behind his pacifier, and his big sister’s pee sloshed onto the floor in slow motion as I raced over to minimize the damage. Lesson learned.
Come to think of it, potty training is an activity ripe with lessons to be learned. The main problem with having a three-year-old trainee is that she isn’t easily impressed with the likes of sticker charts or high fives. This week, we moved beyond wrapped gifts (which Linnea dubbed “poopy presents”) to cash. That’s right—I’m entirely willing to buy me some potty training. The price? Nickles, dimes, and the promise to spend them at Target and the donut shop.
While I haven’t started to bribe Linus yet, I have been trying to negotiate my own training plan. He’s become a faithful running partner this summer, enjoying crack-of-dawn trips through suburban neighborhoods from the comfort of his jogging stroller. When he wakes before 6 a.m., I find that I’d rather go running than try to stay awake in the house. Brain-sapping sleep deprivation turns out to be a great motivator, and Coach Linus doesn’t take no for an answer.
*****
I Want to Know
- What’s making you laugh these days?
- Any thoughts on potty training?
- Do you like to exercise first thing in the morning?
Find me on twitter @emmasota, look up emmasota on Facebook, and visit me at my other blog, Divorced Before 30.
You’ve finally figured it out, the life/comedy thing that is! Not long ago I was hanging with L and L’s Sandberg boy cousins.
All of sudden D yells, I have to go potty!
Grampa says, let’s go man!
We run upstairs to the bathroom and get his drawers down around his ankles.
He yells, I NEED my potty seat (the little insert for the regular seat), and tears out of there with his pants down at his ankles, heading downstairs to the other bathroom where his seat was at the time.
Grampa is at the main level now trying to figure out exactly what’s going on when he zooms past again, seat in hand, pants still down, heading up the stairs for the bathroom. It isn’t known why he didn’t just do it downstairs, BUT(T) I got a quick iphone pic of him from behind on the last couple of steps with the seat waving in the air.
I’d post it, but it’ll probably have to wait until it’s time for his high school graduation photo shrine.
Cute story, Grampa!
oh man, that is a comedy of errors, isn’t it? I love the training idea with Linus though, some bonding time too, and some ME time mixed in??
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Where’s Emma – I miss you!
I’m back.
is it wrong that when you described linus’ trek through the living room with the sloshing pee, i laughed?
i could envision that so perfectly, especially his grinning around that pacifier.
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