Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Not a rockstar mom

Today, I was determined to be a rockstar of efficiency. We had an early morning playdate with a lovely friend who always warms my heart. Last night, I packed our bag, put out our clothes, had a breakfast in the Crockpot.

Ready to roll.

Well, Andrew and I had a big fight this morning...not entirely sure why in the end, but it started with the breakfast option and ended up with me being entirely immature. I suppose I could argue that he was too...BUT...he's 3 and I'm nearly 32. So I'm not sure if it's considered "immature" when it's age-appropriate for him.

We reconciled, apologies in both directions, and a bunch of hugs...and we were still on schedule to arrive on time. Always a triumph in our book.

So I'm buckling Andrew into the car-seat...grabbing another hug...and Simone was waiting at the front door. The way our porch is, I can see just the stairs from the car...so I was keeping an eye on the stairs to make sure she wasn't coming out on the driveway, but couldn't see where she was at.

I came back, and she'd dragged our about-to-go-to-Goodwill potty chair from the front hallway and out onto the porch. There were slushy-puddles on the porch, and she'd pulled off her pants and socks and shoes and was squatting on the toilet. Bare bum for all the world (or at least our neighbor Bobby) to see. Pants *soaking* wet from being discarded into the slush.

Um, nice.

The irony here:

The reason the potty chair was being discarded was because she had no interest in it...jumped right to the Real Toilet whenever her heart decides to poo there instead of her pants. I figured if she was already able to squat over the big seat (even sans the insert), then why bother with the potty chair that she'd snubbed.

So...when we're due to be somewhere in 10 minutes and we've moved on from the potty chair, that's when she decides it's irresistibly interesting.

I'm not really surprised. Well, I was surprised about the details (pooping on our front porch?!)...but not that there will nearly always be an unknown variable thrown into the equation.

I hoisted her up, brought her in and got her a change of clothes and got us back on track...just 10 minutes later than expected. Lara has baby twins, so she understands strange variables.

Life does not really go according to plan...even without kids...but definitely with kids.

Maybe that's the only plan that works: That nothing will go according to plan.


EDITED TO ADD: I want my future self to remember, however, that the sight of bare-bummed Simone pooping on the tiny toilet made Jack and me laugh so hard we could hardly breathe. So...perhaps ill-gone plans end up being the best life path anyway. More laughter, at least.

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