I remember when Emma was about ready to be potty trained. My mother-in-law knew I had my hands full, with two kids and one on the way. She offered to take Em and train her. She picked her up Monday evening and brought her back on Wednesday. By Friday, Jean was in the psych ward of the hospital. Granted, I had my suspicions that she was crazy when she offered. :)
Fast forward a few years, and it is all happening again. Only this time I am doing it on my own. With a child who is even more strong willed than Emma...if that is possible. I am not fearing that I will end up locked up, I am hoping for it. A little time in a padded cell, where I won"t step in someone else's urine in my bathroom sounds like a good time. "They're coming to take me away, ha ha, hee hee, to the funny farm..."
I have been doing pretty well on the whole, not getting too upset when she has accidents. But I just broke. Between her peeing and whining and Ame's just plain whining... I sent Annye to bed (wearing a pull-up over her panties so I won't have to clean up her bed later) and am hiding in my office. I hope to regain my composure and lose my migraine before the girls finish their homework and chores.
"Cause when they are done, we will have to bring the port-a-potty out to my office (yeck!) and I have to help the girls make skirts.
We are making them for activity days and I need to have the process down pat by... well weeks ago. So i have to do the practice run with the girls. Which means I should get off the computer and get things ready.
All I am going to say is I hope Mark brings me home a shake tonight. Or cleans the kitchen for me. Something. I just need someone to throw me a freakin' bone, here.
