Sometimes I wonder if even Mary Poppins could seal the deal on the potty training of my darling firstborn. He remains consistently inconsistent, which makes leaving our house in anything but a diaper tricky. But he's offended if I ask (or force, if I'm being completely honest) him to make the switch before we head out the door.
Anyway, he did great in his big boy undies all morning, so I rewarded him with the opportunity to prove himself on our errand run, which he did magnificently. However, the nature of this morning's errands were tedious and left me fairly grouchy by the time we got home...a grouchiness that exploded into full-on frustration when, upon carrying the last load in from the car, I discovered a large puddle underneath a very guilty-looking Carson at the kitchen counter (this was not an isolated incident).
I tried to hold my tongue and grasp for any shred of patience before I reacted, but it didn't help that a large lightbult also smashed into the tile simultaneous to my unwelcome discovery, spreading shards of glass amidst the already, um, wet wreckage. Carson was stripped and exiled to sit on the potty and "think about what happened here," Layla was foodlessly locked into her highchair, and I fought back tears of annoyance and frustration while I tackled the mess, vocalizing said annoyance and frustration in a most juvenile manner. When the floor was finally cleaned up, I stormed into the bathroom to put a diaper on Carson...who looked up at me, lip quivering and trying to blink back tears, "I'm sawee, Mommy. I'll twy to do bettah nekt time."
Dangit. In true Mary Poppins form, may I please snap my fingers and have a redo of the last 10 minutes of my life? I suppose, just as in potty training, in motherhood there are going to be lots of "accidents." Chalk one up for me...
Anyway, he did great in his big boy undies all morning, so I rewarded him with the opportunity to prove himself on our errand run, which he did magnificently. However, the nature of this morning's errands were tedious and left me fairly grouchy by the time we got home...a grouchiness that exploded into full-on frustration when, upon carrying the last load in from the car, I discovered a large puddle underneath a very guilty-looking Carson at the kitchen counter (this was not an isolated incident).
I tried to hold my tongue and grasp for any shred of patience before I reacted, but it didn't help that a large lightbult also smashed into the tile simultaneous to my unwelcome discovery, spreading shards of glass amidst the already, um, wet wreckage. Carson was stripped and exiled to sit on the potty and "think about what happened here," Layla was foodlessly locked into her highchair, and I fought back tears of annoyance and frustration while I tackled the mess, vocalizing said annoyance and frustration in a most juvenile manner. When the floor was finally cleaned up, I stormed into the bathroom to put a diaper on Carson...who looked up at me, lip quivering and trying to blink back tears, "I'm sawee, Mommy. I'll twy to do bettah nekt time."
Dangit. In true Mary Poppins form, may I please snap my fingers and have a redo of the last 10 minutes of my life? I suppose, just as in potty training, in motherhood there are going to be lots of "accidents." Chalk one up for me...
4 comments:
OHHHHHH....tender. I almost blinked back tears with him.
oh britt - i've been there - feeling cool about blasting my kids for something they later apologize so sweetly for. . . he's tender. love it.
I think us moms sometimes need to throw a little tantrum or something of the like, just to let go of some of the frustrations that motherhood can bring.
oh my gosh--chalk a teary eyed rae up for me. and don't worry--we ALL have our days.
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