Well, it finally (and I mean finally) happened. Lucy pooped on the potty today. Samantha only beat her to it by three days. Yes, Lucy is 3 1/2, but we decided early on that we would not force potty training, but let it happen in Lucy’s own time. At some point I made a foolish prayer for patience, and God has his own way of answering it.
It took a little longer that we were hoping. She has a strong will-she’s been physically ready as far as we can tell for a long time, but always claimed that she wasn’t big enough yet. But today she dissappeared into the bathroom, shut the door, and a few minutes later was shouting, “Mommy! I pooped!”
Which usually does not bring joy to a mother’s heart, but today, it was wonderful. We’re going out for ice cream as soon as Samantha wakes up from her nap to celebrate.
So there is some faint hope that I will have no one (or at least only one) in diapers before the next baby arrives.
And no, that doesn’t mean we’re pregnant. Yet. But hopefully that’s only a matter of time. 🙂
Meanwhile, Samantha hates her diapers, and urinated on the floor three times today.
You win some, you lose some, and some get, uh, “rained” out.
Well, five years ago today I was sharing a bath with my brand-new husband in romantic St. Francisville. (Sorry if that falls in the TMI category, there is a reason, I promise!) We had neither den nor nest for sleeping, nor little else except the Buick.
Tonight I was giving a bath to two beautiful little girls in our own house (sort of – I hesitate to call it “ours” until the mortgage is paid). What a difference five years makes!
My dear husband, by the way, is canoe-camping with his Justice Walking boys. You romantical-types may feel free to send him shaming emails, but it was an honest mistake. He didn’t forget the date, he just made all the camping plans without ever once looking at the date he was planning.
At any rate, I think all this calls for some chocolate cake from Gambino’s. Who’s with me?
But seriously, I did want to thank all of you who were there for us five years ago, and all the rest of you who have supported us since then. We could not do it, I’m pretty sure, without the help and prayers of all our friends and family.
And one of these days, I’m going to get around to planting the sunflowers that little morning rain shower promised! Somebody remind me early next spring!
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies out there. I hope you have a peaceful, love-filled day. Here’s a Lucy quote to brighten (or not) your day.
Lucy: “Tell me about the chickens.” (By which she means, the slightly gory story of how a chicken goes from the farm to our table.
So I do. And I ask, “Does that make you want to eat a chicken?”
Lucy: “Yes! I want to eat a chicken.”
Me (prepping her for the *eventual* move to a farm): “Would you like it if we raised chickens and killed them and ate them?”
Lucy: “Yes! I want to kill a chicken!”
My grandmother lives on in this child. Although, I’m not sure that she butchered chickens with quite this sort of relish.
Anyway, Happy Mother’s Day!
Lucy has been waiting, oh, about two months for the kettle corn man to re-appear at the farmer’s market. I don’t know if we just missed the weeks he’s been around, but we haven’t seen him there in a while. But today, there he was, and the popcorn was purchased, and nibbled around the rest of the market and back in the car. And as we were driving down Magazine on the way to the grocery store to finish our shopping, in the midst of proclaiming the delight brought on by the popcorn and retelling the story of its finding, Lucy cried, in what must have been her best revival voice, “Thank you, Jesus!”
I said, “For the popcorn?”
Me: “Oh. Good.”
Ok, it wasn’t quite that dramatic, but those are direct quotes. And she was really excited about the popcorn. We had a terrible day yesterday (whining nonstop from waking to sleeping), so I think that helped make up for it.