I’m happy to report that potty training week is going better than expected!
(This is a note to my readers who may not have children or who do not want to hear details of potty-ing: just stop reading now. This post will talk about pee, poop, underwear, etc. Heed this as your formal warning.)
After all the weeping that went on Monday, Rory rocked the entire day with zero accidents. Yesterday she woke up and started the whole weeping thing again and I was thinking “WHYYYYYYYY DID I DECIDE TO POTTY TRAIN HER NOW?! WHY WHY WHY?” but after finally convincing her that panties are the bomb(dot)com she went on the potty.
Her saint of a teacher, Misses Sharon as Rory calls her, told me to just send her in underwear to school. Pretty amazing, right? She did pretty good, having two accidents (one on the way to the potty). For the second day, I’d say that’s pretty good.
This is where the story takes a turn in my favor x1000.
I brought Rory home before picking Ryder up from school. I was cleaning up around the house when all of a sudden I heard the playroom door shut.
I immediately went to open the door and found Rory hunkered down behind the playhouse toy and knew what was happening.
So. I calmly said, “Rory, you need to stand up and go get on the big potty and try to poop.” Her eyes were as big as saucers when she realized I knew exactly what she was up to.
She marched into the potty, gave the tiniest grunt you ever heard/saw, and BAM! pooped right there in the potty.
And y’all. If you don’t know this. The child is petite. She is in the 25th percentile for weight, 30th for height. But the poop that came out of her belonged to a large man.
I know, I know. Y’all feel blessed that you read this post.
But seriously- I’ve never seen anything like it! How does it fit in there?!
Okay. Moving on.
So we did the poo-poo potty dance for a good 30 minutes and I asked Rory what she wanted to do to celebrate.
She looked at me straight in the face and said, “Momma. I want to go get Daddy from work and I want him to take me to eat the cheese dip.”
We so very rarely eat out (not because we don’t want to, but because my children and restaurants don’t go well together) that I was kind of shocked she even remembered ever going to get cheese dip at the local Mexican joint. I hadn’t cooked any dinner or planned anything so it worked out well for Momma too.
One of the reasons we don’t go eat is because of a particular habit Rory formed a while ago. She jumps up in the booth first and before anyone can stop her or notice what is happening she grabs the little caddy that holds the sugar/pepper/salt, pours whatever she can get to first out onto the table, and licks it.
It is disturbing on so many levels.
1) She’s licking the table at a public restaurant.
2) It almost looks like a line of drugs. Don’t tell me you didn’t think it too.
3) She doesn’t care if it is sugar or salt or pepper or whatever. She loves it all.
After the sugar/salt episode, both girls actually did REALLY well. I’ve figured out that THE only place we can take our kids and it goes semi-smoothly is Mexican. For one, it is loud in there so their loudness is always drowned out a tad. Two, Ryder’s favorite food on this entire earth is Mexican rice. SHE TEARS IT UP. Last night she ate her whole order of rice and half of mine. Rory’s favorite food is cheese dip and I will be honest and tell y’all that she MIGHT have a bite of taco, but other than that she just eats a million chips with salsa and cheese dip.
Today Rory woke up and as per usual there was some weeping about the potty situation first thing in the morning. She starts crying, “NOOOOOO MOMMMMMM I JUST WANT A DIAPERRRRR!” I told her that we were out and she started sobbing saying that she wanted me to go to the store and get some more.
So, I used my power of persuasion, aka I straight up lied, and said to her in the most excited voice I could muster up at 5:30 in the morning, “Rory! You grew last night when you were sleeping and they don’t make diapers your size anymore!”.
Now. I know this is a parenting low point because lying is wrong- but y’all, her eyes grew wide, she perked up and was so excited that she grew so much while she slept, and that little tootie walked right over and did her business. And she hasn’t had an accident all day.
Speaking of accidents…
we had a playdate this morning!
My new friend here in Savannah, Haley, made me the biggest, most delicious breakfast. She’s probably my new BFF because she loves chocolate gravy on biscuits as much as I do! It was meant to be! ha!
The only problem with new friends is that I have to introduce people to my children.
Now, in small doses like church and the occasional outing, they seem normal.
But take them to someone’s house and BAM! its like being initiated into some secret society.
I remember the first playdate I had at my friend, Kayla’s, house in Paris. The child got into everything and ate (without peeling) three apples, a lime, several raw potatoes, and an orange. It was delightful.
Today, Rory decided she wanted to paint her toenails.
Without telling us.
I heard Haley’s little boy, Preston, going “Woah! Wow! Oh woah!”.
And then I realized they were behind the couch hiding.
Painting their fingernails and toenails.
And the hardwood.
There was fingernail polish EVERYWHERE.
I was mortified but also couldn’t stop laughing. Probably because I was so mortified. And because I wasn’t surprised by this at all.
I’m pretty sure Haley’s mind was BLOWN by how much my kids got into while we were there. Its like the seek it out constantly. She told me Preston never did any of that, he never messed with anything.
My girls’ sole mission in life is to discover and tear into EVERYTHING they possible can.
So that was fun.
Hopefully we didn’t completely scare my new friend off.
One can dream, right?
All I can say is that I am thankful for their crazy ways because I have a plethora of blog material at all times.
Now I am going to attempt a nap.
Which means my children will wake up .2 seconds into it.
Again, I’m a big dreamer.