Potty training

Elise, wearing brightly decorated underwear (and nothing else), carrying one of my discarded purses with an Eric Carle book stuffed inside, has just walked out our front door to go shopping.  She did say bye and that she loved me too.

Oh wait.  She's back.  She says she needs the keys.  Where are they . . .

We are on the second week of potty training.  And really, it has worked, I'm completely trained.  One wide-eyed pause and anxious glance from Elise and faster than a pavlovian dog's mouth can water, I am there on cue to rush her to the potty before she pee-pees--actually the phrase here is "does a wee"--on the new couch.  Phrasing is important because when someone else asks her if she needs to "do a wee".  Elise blankly looks at them as the wee runs down her leg, out her pink Barbie sandles and onto their carpet.  Yes, potty training is going great.  just great.

And it is hot.  Hot. Hot.  In the 90's.  No cool ocean breeze, and smoke from somewhere in the Blue Mountain ranges made me think the kids had set the house on fire.  Fortunately, it's just a massive wildfire raging out of control somewhere else. 

Did I mention we don't have air conditioning?  It is hot.  If I were two I might pee all over myself as well if it meant I could walk around naked.  In fact, the reward of being naked in this heat would sure outweigh that of one measley melting m&m--and yes, they can melt in your hands. 

We may have to move up to Hersey Kisses.  No, that much melting chocolate and sweaty little two year old hands do not mix well.  Perhaps Starburst.   

Anyway the heat is getting to us.  But I just decided to nix Elise's shopping trip (I've pretty much been aquiescing all week to anything she wants in the hopes that she'd go to the bathroom on her own)  and put her down for a nap.  And somewhere between the start of this post and Elise going shopping, and me reasserting my parental authority and putting her down for a nap, it got hot.  I was surprised at how early kids dropped that afternoon nap here in Sydney.  Now, I know why.  In the summer afternoons you are not supposed to be at home. Elise's room is actually in a cool, well, cooler part of the house.  Let me rephrase, Elise's room is the cool part of the house.  But that doesn't help the rest of us.  Caleb and I are in Dante's inferno--3rd level I believe. 

Caleb is making paper airplanes which he tries to fly into the ceiling fan.  One that probably can't. keep. up. this. speed. much. longer.  And I am about to go online and look for a deal on a few more fans.  We need them.

Comments

[boomama]

If I would a really good person, I would be more concerned aobut your potty training adventures than I am with your lack of air conditioning, but all I can think about it that it's over 90 degrees and you don't have air conditioning. It makes me hot just thinking about it. I hope you found the World's Best Fan Prices and ordered as many as you want. :-)

Hang in there.

[Sarah's in the midst of it]

If it makes you feel better, I changed TWO dirty diapers before 8 a.m. today--Grayson's and Addie's. I'm not even going to attempt potty training for another 6 months or so with him. I guess that's another 2 years with Addie . . .

It's hot here, too. Almost 80 while Chris was hanging Christmas lights yesterday. There's something terrible wrong with that!

You never fail to make me laugh, Leslie. I miss you:)

[Blessed Beyond Measure]

Hard to realize its hot there when its just tiptoeing into winter here. Potty training - not for sissies, is it?

[Lori]

I feel for you with the potty training thing. Hang in there!