Earlier today, Ivy came walking across the living room with something in her hand. I should have been more prepared. She was, after all, stark naked from the waist down. It should have been a clue that I should have been more careful when she pushed her little hand into my face, mere centimeters away from my nose...
"Look, Mommy!" she said. "I pooped!"
Yes. Yes she was holding a ball of poop in her hand and yes, she did nearly smear it into my face.
I'd like to pretend that I have many wonderful and amazing things to tell you since I've blogged so little as of late. I'd like to tell you that I've been on trips and written chapters and chapters of my next novel. I'd love to show you amazing pictures or tell you heartwarming, witty stories.
But really, the poop story summarizes my reality right now pretty well.
I just knew you'd want to be a part of it. So, you know. Your welcome.
I'm pretty sure Ivy is ready to potty train. But you know what? I'm not ready. You know the parents that believe potty training is like the Olympics and the earlier there kid is trained the smarter they must be? (Insert a condescending voice saying, "All my kids were potty trained by the time they were 18 months with NO accidents" right here. Then call that voice a liar because anyone that says that? TOTALLY LYING.) Um, yeah. I'm not like that. I know I COULD potty train my kids at 2, but it just seems like when you wait until 3, it's faster, easier, and involves far fewer accidents. Seriously... if you wait until almost 4, all you have to do is throw the diapers away and say, "DUDE. Use the pot like the grown ups." They'll look at you and say, "Sure, Mom. Can I borrow the car next weekend?"
I'll admit... I used to be one of those parents. I used to think that surely there must be something wrong with my "maybe I'll NEVER use the potty" kid who shall remain nameless because I don't want to embarrass him but whose name rhymes with Shmenry. But then he turned five and started school and guess what? He's totally fine. Smart, even. He even uses the bathroom at school! By himself! The moral of the story is don't stress if your kid isn't potty trained, especially if they aren't even 3 yet. No, that's not the real moral. The real moral of the story is that Ivy is taking her diaper off and bringing me her poop in her hands and I am so completely not in the mood to deal with it.
I'm sorry. Were you thinking about having a baby sometime soon? And I've just completely ruined it for you? Maybe a gratuitous baby shot will help you feel better....
Good? Need one more?
I knew that would help.
