Party Post-Mortem
Pretty fingernails just make everyone happier

Rage tempered by fumes

I yelled a lot today. Would you like to hear about it? 

The morning was fine, which was good because for some reason I was OUT OF IT all morning. I remember having some intense dream (all my dreams are intense lately, ugh) and then suddenly I had this thought: there are brownies! in the kitchen! Yes. I thought this. SUE ME. Then it occurred to me if I got up RIGHT THEN, I could eat brownies for breakfast without the children catching me. Possibly I need to go to Carbs Anonymous?

So anyway, I stumbled out of bed, half awake, for BROWNIES. Although honestly, is there really a better reason? But either I woke up too soon or too fast because I was only halfway present in the real world for a good solid hour or two. I managed to get the kids breakfast and all that, and thank goodness they decided to have one of their great big imaginary games instead of bickering at each other all morning because SERIOUSLY, I was SPACED OUT.

So I don't think the yelling started until lunch time. I gave Molly some yogurt, and as she is wont to do with yogurt or anything drippy and wet, some of it plopped on the table. No big deal. But by the time I got to the table to clean it up, Molly had smudged it EVERYWHERE, with her PALM and was looking at me like, "No biggie, Mom, I'm just furthering my creativity" and I was mad. MAD. The child is nearly three. She's been eating yogurt on her own for a LONG TIME. She shouldn't have it smeared all over hands and face and my TABLE.

Then, as I am wont to do, I barked at her and harrumphed and carried on and roughly wiped her up and ordered her to her room. Whereupon, of course, she started to cry. And that just made me angrier. 


And she shuffled off (Molly always makes certain you know that she really doesn't want to do whatever you are ordering her to do) and I fumed and raved to myself and then I hear her crying take on a different tone. A tone I am quite familiar with, yet one I still don't manage to tend to in time. The cry that says, "I'm really upset! So upset I'm going to PEE MY PANTS!"

Which she did. All over her bed. And you thought I was mean and yelly BEFORE. 

Oh man. I am just DONE with this potty training thing. DOOOOOONE. I swear we've been doing this for a year. I am totally willing to say it's my fault, that I started too early, that she wasn't ready blah blah blah. But you know what? I would have sworn she WAS ready. 

I have to say that 90% of the time she uses the potty. And ever since we started using Miralax on a regular basis (SORRY FUTURE MOLLY) we haven't had to deal with days on end of, well, TRAUMA. But she is MOST unwilling to use the potty for THOSE occasions and then there are her random... spells. The times when she gets upset. The times she forgets. The times it just appears that she doesn't CARE. 

I know you aren't supposed to go off on a kid who just wet her pants but BY GOLLY I WANTED TO. I just feel like: YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! YOU KNOW! YOU KNOOOOOOW! And I am SO SICK of cleaning up! GAH! 

I also know that potty training is one of those things even super bloggers choose not to write about, but I'm just gonna say that this is all YOUR fault, Molly. You are KILLING ME WITH THIS. 

The other night I turned to Phillip and said, "Remember when she just wouldn't walk? Like she knew what to do, and she knew that we knew that she knew what to do, but she just WOULDN'T? And when she wouldn't go to bed before midnight? No matter what we tried? She just WOULDN'T? Do you think this is the same kind of thing? IN WHICH CASE WE ARE SCREWED?"

I was so furious and yelly and because I KNEW I was furious and yelly I gave myself a time out. I flopped on my bed and my kids started playing nicely again and I just laid there. Dead to the world. DEPRESSED. 

Eventually I got up and sent Molly to bed and decided to be a half decent mother and play puzzles with my boy, who is quite good at puzzles and everything was okay as long as I mentally turned his voice down and concentrated on matching the dress pieces to the Disney princess face pieces. Eventually Phillip's parents came over to visit and I left the chatty kid with them while I went to, wait for it, HOME DEPOT to buy, yes you're right, MORE SPRAY PAINT OMG I HAVE A PROBLEM. 

(I decided to paint my espresso-colored West Elm desk white. Just go with this. And don't freak out like my FIL about the pregnant and spray painting thing because I bought myself a MASK and I do it on the deck and I take frequent breathers on the far side of the deck and really I think I am QUITE SAFE.) (But I do love how FIL didn't say anything DIRECTLY to me, but kept nudging MIL to lecture me instead. Which she did not. Ahem.)

I don't know. It just made me feel LESS depressed to have a PROJECT. 

And everything was going fine and the kids were happy and FIL and MIL were occupied. But then it was time to meet Phillip at the restaurant and the kids went downstairs to put on their shoes while I headed to the bathroom to put on my third or fourth application of undereye concealer that day I hear my darling little boy say, "Ye Ye, you're STUPID!" Giggle giggle giggle. 

I waited for Ye Ye to haul off and dropkick the child to the moon, but Ye Ye just mumbled something or other. Then I heard my sweet little boy say, "Nai Nai, YOU'RE stupid!" Giggle giggle giggle.

And Nai Nai, being Nai Nai, just said something like, "Oh Jack, that's not very nice, here, let me tie your shoe," and suddenly I realize I am standing there with my undereye concealer while I obviously need to go do the dropkicking myself. 

So I threw my makeup in the drawer and stomped down the stairs and YANKED the precious boy away from his grandmother and half-dragged him into the guest bedroom and in my best imitation of my dad's you-are-dead-meat voice I told him that under NO circumstances was that an appropriate thing to say EVER and if I EVER heard him say that again I would find a nice Dickensian orphanage for him to live in and OMG I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT TO YOUR GRANDPARENTS!!!!

Jack, at least, was properly horrified, mortified, terrified, all the appropriate -fieds. And you know, I'm not even sure he knows what stupid MEANS. I've been trying to think of any time anyone has used that word around him and I'm realizing that I often use it in reference to, ah, other drivers. Like, I will make some Frustrated Noise and Jack will say, "What's wrong?" and I will say, "That other driver is being STUPID!" (Which is always true, obvs.) 

So at the very least he knows it's not a NICE thing to say, which, honestly, is enough grounds for selling to gypsies. His GRANDPARENTS! I wanted to die. Die! Although I'm sure they thought I blew it out of proportion and when I brought him back they were all about wanting him to stop crying and I was still all "NO! STOP BEING NICE TO HIM!"

SIGH. After dinner I came home and put another coat of white paint on my desk while Phillip dealt with the Pee-er and the Stupid-er. 

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Phillip and I are leaving on Thursday (Thursday!) for a little two-night jaunt down to Portland. BY OURSELVES. We originally planned to go to San Francisco, but dear God have you seen plane ticket prices? Then we were going to drive to Vancouver BC but oops, someone's passport expired. Portland, quite frankly, did not sound all that exciting to me, but then we decided to take the train and suddenly I am all I WILL HAVE HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS TO READ AND NAP AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. Plus I have this foodie friend who sent me the biggest list of restaurants in the WORLD and the top one is a Thai restaurant and maybe you do not know this but I am Vegetarian Pad Thai With Deep Fried Tofu's biggest fan. We're pretty excited about it. 

The BAD news is that the day after we get back, Phillip is going on a week-long business trip. SOB. Obvs I will need a REALLY big project for next week. I'm thinking about painting my bedroom, but don't tell FIL because when I told him I'd have to use the big ladder he nearly fainted. 

(P.S. I KNOW FIL is right, I do I do, but I am 1) getting all NESTY and 2) in possession of a new house and I swear it's impossible not to visit Home Depot every single day. It's like my new Target. HELP ME!)



Morgan S.

Oh man. I am so dang sick of the potty training as well. I feel like it has been DECADES that I have been repeating the same potty related statements. Sometimes I want to cry and punch the wall when faced with another round of scrub the poopy underwear. In fact, last Friday I was treated to TWO children providing me with the opportunity to scrub the poopy underwear within 15 minutes of arriving home from work. (They are potty prodigies at school, which only adds to the RAGE.)

I will share a fine moment in parenting I had recently - I schlepped the girls and all their gear to a local spray park on the first sunny Saturday all year (= crazy mob crowd). I managed to park in the shade close to the spray ground. Huzzah! Approx. 5 minutes after arrival, Brooke starts whining about wanting to go home and watch TV. I had HAD IT! I finally told her that her behavior was ruining our day - did she want to be a day-ruiner?! I was trying to get SOMEWHERE into her thick skull that this WHOLE EXCURSION was for her pleasure! Well, I talked her off the ledge and we stayed for another 2 hours. Fast forward a week - now, every so often she chirps "Mommy, I am not ruining our day!" and I die a little inside. Also, each time Brooke acts up, Hadley pipes up with "Brookie is ruining our day!". Sigh. This parenting thing is HARD. (sorry for the long post, but I wanted to commiserate that others are filled with The Rage at times as well.)


Ha! My ILs were the same way when I was pregnant.

I also get a case of the rage when I haven't slept enough. It sucks. And did I mention that tomorrow I'm flying with both kids by myself and that our flight leaves at 6:30 AM and that the one year old is in the climbing phase. I am praying that there is an empty seat next to us.


My mil told me I couldn't go into houses with cats because cats kill unborn babies.

And don't tell either of our in-laws, but when I was pregnant with Elizabeth, I was standing on a tall ladder, installing a light fixture in the ceiling when I received a fairly hearty shock all the way down my arm. I just like to think that it gave Elizabeth all the extra energy she has. ;)


My husband and my mom keep wanting to start potty training M, but I'M NOT READY. I just don't want to get into that. She sits on the potty at daycare (but has never actually used it) so I ask her often if she wants to sit on it at home, but when she says no I leave it at that.


Oh, Maggie, so there with you on the potty training...I wrote about our potty travails on my blog recently also. We've been at it for a year-plus and I just want to tear my hair out. S knows exactly what to do and can totally do it, but right now, she only chooses to do it at two times during the day: 1) when my husband takes her to school, because it delays him leaving the school, and 2) before she goes to bed at night because it delays her having to GO to bed at night. The rest of the time she's no-no-no and gets hysterical. Sheesh. Yesterday was a no-accident day, but last week she had a few days with multiple accidents. The upside for me is that she is at school and I am at work, so it's not my house that's getting messed up, but the downside is poopy, wet clothes that have been sitting in a plastic bag for a few hours are NO FUN to launder when I get home! Hang in there and if spray painting is helpful to your state of mind, I say keep it up! :)

Jen @ The Short Years

I am sure you already knew about this, but just in case you didn't, make sure your visit includes a trip to Powell's City of Books on Burnside. An entire city block of books. It's nerd nirvana.


Oh Maggie, I am so sorry for potty training having ruined your day! It has been ruining my days too for 8-9 months now, and I have lost faith that is ever going to get better. Karolina was doing so, so well there... and then we moved over Easter and she stopped. Completely, everything. It's only in the last 2-3 days that she's even been willing to sit on the potty again (just sit- nothing else). My only saving grace is that in her new preschool, the 3 year olds don't have to be potty trained, just "working on it." But I totally understand your rage here, having a just-about-3 year old who won't potty is well, embarrassing kinda? Or am I the only mommy who feels like this?

Also- I second the visit to Powell's, please take a picture and post it b/c I miss that place!


I feel your pain... In my next life I am envisioning a live-in nanny.. I made Thursdays no yell days even the kids can't yell or fight b/c I am a yeller.
Both kids potty training... I let it be they were 2.5 and almost 3 when they were ready. I wasn't stressed and neither were they. They both just stopped wearing diapers one day when they announced they wanted to wear undies full time.


I can top Molly's potty training... my little guy who turned 4 in March just finally started wearing underwear in July. He attended preschool this year in pullups and never went at school. While at home, he refused to go potty and would say he just didn't want to. I was so frustrated, I would yell at him and was promptly filled with guilt. Everyone talked to him about it and he just refused. One Monday he said he was going to wear underwear on Tuesday and that was it. We've had a few accidents but he's doing pretty well. Also, we have to do Miralax too. Recently, I started Fiber Gummies by Pedia Lax and they seem to be working. Hang in there, she'll get it sooner or later. At least you have brownies!!!


My parents basically think that ANYthing I do, other than sit on the porch with an iced drink is dangerous and will cause me to miscarry. Including pushing around the bed in the master bedroom (which is ON WHEELS) and carrying my son (he's about 2.5 years old, 28 pounds, and if my parents think I'm going to stop picking him up, they have another thing coming). Today, I'm going to spray paint my son's head board, and I'm just waiting for them to say something.

Sarah in Ottawa

Oh, I have to clamp down the rage, too. I don't know where it comes from, I swear. But I totally sympathize.

Teddy is just not interested in the potty. At all. Other than as a spot where he has unfettered access to his boy parts, so he can touch them. He can start pre-school and not be trained, so at least the pressure is gone there. I am starting to get pointed questions on the subject from relatives (nb my Mom), but they'll just have to deal.

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