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Tea party — emphasis on the drink, not the political movement — in diapers March 8, 2010

Posted by Erin F. Wasinger in Being a mama, Kind of unreasonable.
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So that whole ambitious potty training thing didn’t happen.

Not at all. We’re not even talking about crash landing, or stalling on the runway. We’re not even talking about getting lost on the way from the car to the baggage counter. Nah. I bought the plane ticket, so to speak, and then promptly shoved it in the back of Alice’s dresser drawer til summer. Or college.

See if I have problems keeping the boys away from my daughters in high school — ooooh yeah, that’s right, boys. Back up.

Anyhow, the 31 weeks’ pregnant mother in me was waaay stronger than the determined mother who loathes buying diapers by the boxful. All it took was one nasty look from Pregnant Me — the piercing, beady eyes of a hungry woman already 30 pounds over her normal weight — and the Erin From Days of Yore retreated to that secret place where shirts clinging to waists is a style, not a fact of life. Erin From Days of Yore was a little petrified. I put the Elmo underwear back in the drawer and vowed to approach the subject again when someone other than Buzz Lightyear was excited about using the potty.

Call me lazy — go ahead, I dare you to call the pregnant lady lazy, DO IT — but really … do you know how much stuff I have to teach this kid? Kids know basically nothing. Peeing can wait; I’ve got colors, numbers and Billy Joel songs for her to memorize. Time is fleeting, my friends.

That and I’m just that afraid to fail — I may be a potty-trained veteran, but what do I know about teaching a kid what it means to value dry pants? Especially one who doesn’t follow logic or get my best sarcastic one-liners yet. Truth is, I’m just not ready.

And I’m tired. Blah.

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