The Chronicles of Potty

Loveliest Sisee –

Before I begin, let’s just get the obvious out of the way: SWIPER NO SWIPING! SWIPER NO SWIPING! OH MAAAAAN. Btw, what is going on with Dora the Explorer’s haircut?? Do her parents hate her, or are they just too busy with the twins? I guess considering the kind of adventure she’s allowed to go on without any parental supervision, the bowl cut isn’t surprising. Though, seriously, if my kid TALKED! like THIS! ALL! the TIME! it would make me much more inclined to just open the door and say “Go. Get out. I don’t care what you do, just take that weird ‘boots’ thing with you.”

Now: the potty. It’s killing me. Killing… me. Evan has no intention of being potty trained. The only way to get him on the toilet is to have no pants on him all day (aka: stay home all day) and remind him to get on every 30-60 min so he doesn’t forget and just pee WHEREVER HE’S STANDING. Oh, and when he does go on the potty, Alec will run into the bathroom and try to shove various things into the toilet while Evan is sitting there. So then I have to put Alec in his high chair, at which point he’ll start screaming. Awesome, right?  I was thinking about it and realized that perhaps Evan’s just too smart for all this potty business. His powers of deductive reasoning are pretty good – So, I should STOP conveniently peeing/pooping in my pants wherever I am,  and having mom change me on demand, and instead take MY OWN PANTS OFF, and sit on a cold toilet?! Ha! Haha! HAHAHAHAHA! Well, I finally got him to poop on the potty. Before you celebrate, let me explain the circumstances…

 I was in the shower and Evan (who had been home two days in a row with NO PANTS ON other than at night), hadn’t had a bowel movement in approx. 48 hours. So basically, it was a countdown. Race against the clock, if you will. Physically, it’s not possible to keep eating and drinking, and eating and drinking, w/o something having to make its way out, right? So, I’m in the shower, and Evan runs in (again, no pants) and he’s hysterical because he needs to go, and he doesn’t know what to do. I jump out of the shower mid-shampoo and grab him and put him on our toilet, where he starts screaming hysterically. I’m talking to him calmly and telling him he can do it, naming all of his friends who don’t wear diapers anymore and ONLY pee and poop on the potty – not that he can hear any of this over his own screaming (which BTDubs, woke up Alec – awesome #2). Water and suds are pooling everywhere from me, and he can’t do it - he freezes up. So I let him get up, and I jump back in the shower. He stays in the bathroom, and a few minutes later, again, he’s hysterical. He has to go, and doesn’t know what to do. So I jump out of the shower again, grab him…. Etc, etc. Repeat FOUR TIMES. So, the FIFTH TIME, he finally managed to go, all the while hysterically scream-crying. When he was done, though, he seemed pretty proud of himself. I gave him a reward, and lots of praise, but let me tell you what – I was freaking exhausted. And so was he. Also, he may now be traumatized, who knows. I want to be happy that he finally pooped in the potty, but I get the feeling the only real winner in that situation was the poo.

Sis, this all-consuming potty “training” is so frustrating. What happened to me? When did my life and my day’s thoughts, dreams, creativity, hopes all become hijacked by a constant need to stop changing (and spending $100 month on) diapers? When did the perfect spot for a wall-mount wine rack on the side of the cabinet become plastered with an enormous “Potty Chart”? And for the love of all that is good, when did I become desensitized to pee?? It’s so gross! It doesn’t belong anywhere other than in the toilet! Certainly not on the floor, or rug, or couch… or my clothes and skin. Ugh! Last night I was slumped on the couch in a coma, and I looked down at my super dry hands and realized they’re falling apart from the multiple daily contact with Clorox bleach “pee clean-up” wipes. Oh, and WHERE is my lotion? It’s in Alec’s room, where he was playing with it, because Cetaphil lotion is way more fun than the 10,000 toys he’s got. And since he was sleeping, I couldn’t go find it in the dark. It’s seriously a testament to the existence of Almighty God, that after being terrorized all day we still look at those little faces and melt with love and gratitude. Anyway,I will keep you updated, should any further progress be made.



Totally ineffective potty chart



In cutesy-wootsey news: Alec is starting to talk. This week he started saying “more” and “up.” And Caillou, whom he calls “raa-roo.” He also started saying EH-BAA… aka: Evan. And by “he started saying” I mean, he started saying every waking minute, and some semi-asleep minutes of every… single… day. It’s very cute, his total obsession with big brother. The first thing he says when we grab him after sleeping is EH-BAA?? Then he says EH-BAA, EH-BAA, EH-BAA?? about 33 more times (so, yes, 99 times – good math super sleuths). Poor Evan has been waking up every morning in the most traumatic way: Alec yelling EH-BAA!!! in his face. Literally, inches away from his face. Poor kid. But they’re both so insanely cute.  No bias.

Sis, why was your tv on Maury when on-demand turned off? If I’m not mistaken, Maury is on CBS – why are you watching CBS??? Now that 2 ½ Men is off the air (yeah, I’m not spelling it out – it’s a Charlie Sheen show) what more could be worth watching? Ah, just kiddin’ – paternity tests are a ratings goldmine!

Sis! Guess what Brett was watching the other night?.... BET (the channel). I think American Gangster was on, which he had to watch for the 4th time, or something. The funny thing is that during every single commercial he’d ask something like “Hey, who is that?” or “Have you ever seen that show?” Hilarious. Um… no, I haven’t honey. (Well, 106^th & Park I totally watch sometimes.) Anyway, what witty, advice-dispensing gentleman happened to have an ad…? Steve Harvey! He was reading excerpts from letters he gets, and said something like I can’t MAKE this stuff up! Naturally I imagined you, standing in your kitchen, and practicing saying that line until you got your celebrity impression DOWN. I wish I could branch out and try some new celeb impersonations. Alas, I'll have to stick to what I know best: Neil Diamond singing hip-hop songs from 10 years ago. No more... shopping sprees. No more... late night creeps. (You KNOW you know the rest.)

Love you Sisee. Come home already. You've proven your point: you're independent; you'll straight up pick up and move to the east coast. We get it, we get it.
Miss you terribly and wanna gobble up that curly-haired niece of mine.
Love you.

Ava