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Just a heads up – this is a parenting post. I know. Those suck balls. I’m so so sorry. But I told you right off the bat so if you are childess you can go back to wondering if you should screw your no-really-he’s-just-my-best-friend roommate or the hot Asian guy in Starbucks. I wish I had your problems.
Also, if you are considering spawning, you should probably skip this post.
The truth is, sometimes children are miraculous little butterflies that flit around your face and you love them and you think ridiculous thoughts like, ‘my children are the greatest, most beautiful, most effervescent, most minty (holler Steph!) things on earth. No, in the UNIVERSE!’ This is a great batch of feelings. It comes complete with hugs and elevated self esteem <—-because they must be so awesome thanks to me.
And then, then, they like….flip their shit. Always both at the same time. Two weeks ago I was riding high on kick ass kiddiesness. Then, Fox, who up to this point was kind of cruising along in underwear ok, minus the whole poop thing (oh god I hate when people talk about that on their blogs – ergo I hate myself) Anyway, daycare handles that aspect. Then, last night, he just up and pees on the carpet. It seriously sent me over the swing set. Past annoyed, past angry and right on over to hilarious. I swing on some fucked up mental playgrounds. Clearly.
So I’m laughing and dying inside because potty training is the worst thing to ever exist. I have serious doubts that this child even knows what planet he’s on half the time and so how do I reach him? I mean, he pulled down his underwear and just…let it fly. WTF <—-the f stands for FUUUUUUCCCCKKK
Then later he peed in the pants and took them off, carefully put them in the dirty clothes pile and stated, “I handled it.” So now I get to say F to You internet message board which told me if a child pees to make them ‘handle it’ and they will hate dealing with ickyness and they will want to use the potty. For Fox, it’s an out.
I’m just so frustrated. To make things worse, I have underwear eyes. You know when you are wanting to be pregnant, you see preggos every where you go? Or when you want a Kia Soul suddenly there are 50 thousand of them on the road? Like that. Only with cute children in their cute underwear and their goddamn cute smiling pee free parents.
And don’t even get me started on Leo. He’s about to get his ass straight kicked out of daycare. I’m not even kidding about that. That’s another post.
So I’m tired and stressed and exhausted and waaaaaaaahhhhh. This Saturday Danny is going to UFO Field Investigators training all day, leaving me with his children. It makes me want to sob, on the floor – except I can’t – because it has pee on it.
I also realize when I write statements like, “Danny is going to UFO Field Investigators training all day” without even thinking about it, that maybe there’s a reason my children are kind of strange and alien.