Thursday, January 26, 2006


Mommy, I feel like I have to go pee-pee!
I hear the words but I do not respond. I sit for a moment staring at The Boy in disbelief, trying to absorb the meaning of his declaration.
So this is what the experts have been talking about.
This is that magical moment when he decides he is ready willing to go potty, after months of bribery encouragement on our part with minimal success.
Snap out of it you ninny. Get a move on. Your son is telling you he wants to use the potty and all you can do is sit there like a deer caught in the headlights all wide-eyed and motionless and shit.
I come-to and escort the Prince to his Throne whilst I plant myself on the cold tub edge because he needs me to sit with him. His eyes light up and smile along with the rest of his face as he feels the aforementioned bodily fluid come forth.
Task completed, I teach him the finer art of wiping dabbing because, shaking? EWW. And then proceed to squeal with delightful pride over his accomplishment and do my own celebratory pee-pee dance.
Who knew that bodily fluid could be so exciting?
My dance-a-thon is cut short to attend to The Mouse who has had a Total Ass Explosion. I am amused over how little this affects her as she "a-goos" and contorts herself with, as Amalah so brilliantly describes as full body smiles (you know, where they flail and scrunch up their arms & legs in a fit of happiness?) all while I wipe the offensive malodorous material from her arse, back, neck and arms with the evil cold, COLD wipes.

Motherhood is so glamorous.

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