Again, you haven’t heard from me in a while. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks during which I’ve turned 39 and my eldest daughter has un-potty trained herself. This is unusual in that she is four years and three months and has been completely potty trained since she was three. Completely; no pull ups, no accidents, no nothing. DONE. She is really missing her Dad who will come home tomorrow for a week before leaving for probably the last two or three weeks of this job. While Olivia has regressed in more obvious day to day ways (such as she hasn’t stopped whining or crying since DECEMBER 26th), Gracie is internalizing her stress; or rather expelling it onto my floors. You remember she took a crap in my front room a few weeks back. Well, this week she pulled me into MY BATHROOM to tell me she DID NOT PEE ON THE FLOOR, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THIS IS and at another point dragged me in there to show me that she had stacked my two little bath mats across each other so they sort of looked like a heart. They stayed there for two days because I thought it was cute. AND THEN I TRIED TO MOVE THEM. Only they were stuck. TO. THE. FLOOR. WITH. A. GIANT. PILE. OF. CRAP. Which I felt obligated to make her clean up as we did with the pee that wasn’t and the man sized dump she took on my front room floor. It only seems fair, right? So I’ve told her that Kiddie Academy does not allow kids to attend who are not fully potty trained. She says, “well, I won’t do it at school” like I’m slow or something. I had to tell her that I’m obligated to report any instances; even the ones at home and she’ll have to stay home while Olivia goes to school; A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. I think the problem may be solved. I’ve been wrong before.
On a lighter note, my girls are hopelessly, helplessly, completely in love with Lady GaGa which is great; I find her music highly entertaining. They don’t seem to be alone; our cousin, Ella, our neighbor, Mason and our friend, Gracie are all equally smitten. Lady GaGa is to the preschool set what Jessica Simpson is to John Mayer (sexual napalm, crack, cocaine; people…do you NOT watch Oprah or read Playboy?). I’m not one to think music is going to make you sleep with, harm or kill baby animals, or yourself, or your parents so I’m not too worried about the content…although I will admit to avoiding questions about what, in fact, a disco stick is. Just not ready to go there. Aidan; however is horrified that I’m letting them listen to that particular song. He yelled “Mom, do you KNOW what this song is about?” so I played dumb and asked him what it was about and what do you know? He was right on, which I thought was just a little suspect given the amount of verbal abuse Lady GaGa takes from my 12 year old son. Anyway, the best part has been watching Grace and Olivia mouth the words to Poker Face and Bad Romance in my rear view mirror and then watch them dissolve into helpless giggles when they catch each other singing. Especially because they insist she is saying “Cutie Pie, Cutie Pie, you don’t need to poke her face” which really when you think about it is just good parenting. Children shouldn’t poke cutie pies in the face, right?