Thursday, August 13, 2009

A Day That I Hear My Husband Sigh

#5 has been incredibly hard to potty-train.

I am thinking it is just she has a shorter tube than the boys. DH and she have had this ongoing conversation about her accidents. He has been kind and loving. She has been rationalizing and stubborn. (some say she is related to me--me? stubborn, rationalizing? Mother be quiet.) :) You may ask why I am not involved in this conversation? I wet the bed way past 5 and I can't believe I just admitted that but I figure there is a genetic component. DH forges forward.

So, he has had this conversation with #5. "Use your muscles to hold your pee in and run to the toilet." Some days I hear from the bathroom, "DAD! I used my muscles!!" We woop and hurrah.

Today she had an accident. I called her upstairs to clean up the mess she made in the kids bathroom (entire roll of toilet paper unrolled, spread all over the bathroom, some wet, some dry and added in crayon wrappers-this is my life folks, mess after mess after mess, we won't even talk about the can of honey roasted peanuts she dumped all over the library floor this morning. But I do hear my DH exclaim over and over again, "How come the vacuum bag is full again?!"). While she came up I noticed the tell-tale bottom and very calmly tell her to change her panties. Daddy's office is across from the kids bathroom. I got busy and he had to help her get panties down. (Picture 4 year old with her peasant blouse shirt all tucked under her chin running around upstairs with nothing but the peasant blouse shirt.)

Daddy gets her panties and asks her, "How come you didn't use your muscles to hold it in?"
#5 says, "Dad, sometimes I have wimpy muscles."

DH sighs.

I hide my face and hold in my laughs so he and she cannot hear me.

wimpy muscles....

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