Of COURSE My Child Is Potty Trained! (Theoretically Speaking)

I had this absolutely FABULOUS post on feminism and housewives in my head today.  Really, genius.  I was set on impressing all my readers with my tender yet decisive perspectives.

Then, I decided I should re-open my Facebook account.

I closed my personal account a while back hoping it would keep my life more in balance, yield a cleaner floor, and of course, better behaved children.  I am surprised I kept it closed for as long as I did, because really, Facebook is like Crack to me.  Cheap, accessible, basically awesome.  (I have never done Crack.  Nor do I think that Crack is actually funny.)

But today I decided to open back up the old account and see how my friends from high school and all that were doing without me.  So I start browsing....

"Aww...she had a baby!  How sweet!  They moved?  Who knew?  I hope everything is going fine for them....."

Meanwhile....

Suddenly I realize that my two middle children (the four year old and the two year old) are both in the bathroom together.  I open the door.


Good GOSH!  

The four year old was using the toilet so the two year old, who needed to go, just went ahead and dropped a deuce on the floor.  (That is slang for number two or going poop.  I know.  Me so hip.)  The two year old was doing some yoga pose in front of her pile and the four year old was really quite amused. 

I actually couldn't handle that sight at the moment so I closed the door.

BIG mistake.  (For future reference, this is mistake number two, the first mistake being re-opening the Facebook account.  You might want to keep track.)

When I have gathered myself I open the door.

Things have gone down hill rapidly.  The four year old needed to get past the yoga posing toddler and "accidentally" pushed her over.  Into.... you guessed it.  The deuce.

"Don't worry mom.  I will clean it up!"

(I am just going to leave out the things I said right then because I would prefer you think of me in glowing "she has it all together terms" rather than the reality that is me.)

 Then, mistake number three- I let her clean it up.  I actually walked away to do something.

It is like I have never met a child before, you know?  I mean WHAT experienced mother WALKS AWAY from a child cleaning feces?

This one.

I return to find (in no particular order):

~Screaming two year old.  She doesn't enjoy her sister "cleaning" the poo off her back.

~A rag rubbing the remaining stuff around on the floor.  You want to really spread it around, right?!

~Poop in the sink.  Yes.  The sink.  Forgive me if the words, "HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ME PUT POOP IN THE SINK?!" escaped my lips.

(As an aside, this is one of those moments when being committed to "peaceful parenting" is actually a good thing.  Because if you are one of those parents for whom hitting your kids with a hose {I hear they exist} is on the table, you would be sorely tempted to use that method right now.  Luckily, that is NOT on the table.  Yelling however, is.)

Off to the shower.  Early showers tonight!

Don't worry, I learned a few things from this encounter.

1)  Facebook is not my friend.  It actually makes my life more complicated. 

2)  My ridiculed decision to avoid family cloth at all costs was the RIGHT decision.  Yeah, the "washable rag" that was used in this whole endeavor is now on the curb in a garbage bag.  Good riddance!!!!!

3)  There are some jobs for which my earth friendly, so natural you could drink it, distilled vinegar spray cleanser, just doesn't do the job.  The chemicals found their way back into my life for a brief moment.  You will be glad if you ever come over.

4)  There is pretty much nothing that can't be improved with cheesecake.  Yes, I feel better after my cheesecake.  Much better. 

5)  Last but not least, NEVER tell anybody how early your kids potty train.  It will come back to haunt you.  I repeat, it will come back to haunt you.  No potty training bragging. 

Afterword-

I appreciate any well meaning comments about how I should "Never take my eyes off the kids" (I know mom, you mentioned it before) or tirades about how my two year old isn't ready for potty training (potty TEACHING, excuse me) or anything like that.  I am committed to my claim that she is in fact potty trained despite all evidence to the contrary.  This was an example of venting.  I don't want advice. 

Good day!