Caroline

Potty training is so far my least favorite thing about this whole parenting gig.

I feel like I have a third child–the bathroom.  I always have to know where it is and if it gets too far away from me, I panic.

Here is an example of a typical “quick” trip to the store.  I just needed to pick up a prescription and some pictures.  I was feeling brave so I took both girls with me…and one of them was wearing panties.

We arrived at the store and visited the bathroom.  No success.  We got in line to pick up our prescription.  (I had called it in earlier so that it would be ready when we got there.)  There were about 6 people in front of us.   The line was not moving.

I decided to get our pictures first in the hopes that the prescription line would go down in the meantime.  We had sent our picture order in online so that it would be ready.  It wasn’t.  They were having some sort of problem with the machine.  The lady estimated it would be another 20 minutes.

Brooke tells me she needs to go potty.  We run to the front of the store to use the facilities.  No success.

We get in line again for our prescription.  Now there are about 8 people ahead of us.  Sigh.

After about 10 minutes, there are only 2 people ahead of us.  Brooke starts doing a potty dance.  I debate.  How much time do I have before she has an accident?  I mean, this child has held it for four hours before.  I don’t want to lose my place in line!  I decide that having an accident would be worse than losing my spot, so we rush to the bathroom.  The bathroom is closed.  Now we have to run to the back of the store.  No success.

I know she has to go so we sit in the stall for several minutes.  I’m doing everything I can think of to keep Brooke on the toilet.  I’m telling stories, singing songs, doing dances.  I ignore the snickers and giggles I hear from the neighboring stalls.  At about the time we’re using the toilet paper to make origami birds, Brooke goes.  Success!  Finally!

We go stand in line AGAIN for our medicine.  Thankfully, there is only one person before us.  We get our medicine.

We go get our pictures.  Only part of them are done.  The problem is, it’s now past lunchtime and it’s turning into nap time for both girls. Consequently both are screaming.  Hysterically.

I debate again.  Should I just leave my pictures and get them later?  But we’ve already been waiting so long, and it will only be a few more minutes so I decide to grit my teeth and persevere.

I take Brooke over to the toy aisle.  This extinguishes the screams that were spilling forth from her mouth.  I shush Caroline and get her sleeping.

Our pictures are finally done.  Hurrah!  Now I have to pull Brooke away from the toys.  I tell her she can play for one more minute.  I let her play.  Then I tell her it’s time to go.  I hold my breath and brace myself for her signature scream.

She surprises me by waving to the toys and saying, “Bye, toys.  See you another day!”  Then she lets me put her in the cart.

We make one last pit stop before we head home.  Success again!

Upon arriving at home, we have lunch.

Then two little girls and one very frazzled mom settle in for a well-deserved nap.