It’s Tinkle Time!

Honestly! These past few weeks I have never been more proud to be the mother of a one-year-old. I know that whole “potty business”, has been hyped up for the first few years (and can even limit your access to quality daycare providers), but my dahling made me proud.

She was beaming the day we pulled up to my FAVORITE store to buy her Pink dual-purpose “Dora The Explorer” Potty seat. She even took it out the box and pranced around the house with it for days, but clearly actually using it would be a whole nother project.

I sit her on it after dinner and she’s let out an earth-shattering scream. how dare I! Make her deposit her “precious nuggets” into a bowl when she had “oh so comfortably’, been allowed to relieve herself whereever and whenever she pleased (to my dismay). There was no turning back, and so I knew that I had to reassure her that she would not get into trouble if she tinkled. But let me tell you about the other night.

She quite proudly meandered around the house and led me into the bathroom, and to my surprise I saw nothing but the opaque pink bottom of her seat empty. Where was the poop? Where was the pee? It wa a mystery I would not solved until the next day when I couldn’t put my nose on a funny smell that seemed to permeate the entire house.

There it was! A brownish-green lump of something odd right near the vent on the white carpet. All I could do was laugh as I gathered my cleaning bucket (I have two for things like this located in the bathroom) and my carpet brush and scrubbed the spot until it was cream-colored again.

I asked her to potty. I did not specify that she stay there after she was finished. It was truly hilarious. More to Come!

Miss B. Jones

How to get over an Owie and live another day!

Maybe it’s the hormones finally driving me up the wall or I’m finally snapping. By the way, snapping doesn’t mean “losing it”, it just means that I’m finally (at age 24) realizing that this “self-righteous”, never let them see me sweat bullsh*t doesn’t work for reality. We are fragile beings who feel hurt and it cuts like a knife. Being a mother has taught me a couple of things about pain. Its sears, burns and stings like hell but when it’s over (with a few meds or whatever) is is OVER. You can sit and run around the house still screaming but that’s up to you. “Being Strong”, was what some ill-informed psycho made up to circumvent reality. Cry that sh*t out man, get it out so that you are true to yourself in that moment. Be real, and then when it’s over wrap it up so it can heal! Here’s my list of way to get over an owie!

1. Check to see if its broken! It might just be your ego or a serious issues. But if your problem is strictly emotional take a few deep breaths and this too shall pass.

2. Cry it Out! If you have more than two kids you can even cry around them. They may look at you like you’re crazy or they may give you a big hug and kiss. we teach our children affection. They know how to return it.

3. Disinfect it, so it don’t get worse! Everybody has those family members and friends that feel like alcohol on a wound but it makes it better to have a sound mind to help.

4. Get a Binkie!
Okay, first I don’t mean an actual binkie, chocolate, a little wine or a hot Toddie helps. but don’t go overboard.

5. Celebrate! Your human and humans get hurt. The fact that something can bother you soo much means you are a kind soul and instead of ignoring that channel it into something good. (Like me writing now).

This list is intended to add a little humor to the occasional heartbreak, misunderstanding or sour note. If you have a real owie you better go to the hospital lol.

Of Sam’s Club and Poopies…

Amelia is just beginning to take Big Girl Poops; meaning the most expensive diapers can’t seem to hold the Immense mass that is my baby’s mango colored treasures. I was perusing Sam’s Club in Village West which is now my Baby Essentials haven. 300 packs of diapers and wipes along with infant formula and car seat seem to be invading my dreams these days, this is soo funny to me because it’s never been more real. I love making my baby happy, and it’s not as if I can REALLY understand her lil grunts and coos, but I feel like she’s saying “I don’t need much more than those lusicous ninny jugs, but if you want to buy me those glittery headbands, hey have at it”! So, back to my story…I ran out of wipes and there was considerably more poop left on her bottom so I did the best I could with wet paper tools until she was clean, and then I changed her outfit. Her shorts were covered so here I go to the nearest sink to wash them off, and then I had to dry them so WALLAH; The Dyson Airblade doubles as a baby clothes dryer! I felt incredible proud of myself,and being the lil germiphobe that I am I wiped the inside down with a sanitizer cloth. It may seem like something small but it sure was mighty…Until Next Time…Thanks for reading!