I'm not trying to potty train Julia but unfortunately we are still suffering the wrath of the accident on an almost daily basis around here. You know the one: the puddle on the floor that appears out of nowhere? I don't know how it happens. Does that much time lapse from the time I get her out of the bath and into a new diaper? Did she just feel threatened by a smiley Sebastian, take off her diaper and mark her territory while I was busy sorting and organizing her dresser that she emptied for the 12th time which was interrupted by Sebastian's hangry "why-have-I-not-been-spoon-fed-my-fourth-breakfast-yet? First-lunch-starts-soon" cries which were interrupted by the dirty bathroom that couldn't be ignored for one more second which was interrupted by sudden and suspicious "why is Julia being so quiet?" thoughts? I guess. I can't be bothered with a game of bodily fluid Clue with a person that speaks 1/9000000000th of the English language when I have boxes of bonbons waiting patiently for their meeting in my SAHM office.
Fortunately it's not as gross or inconvenient as a lot of other potential situations involving the short Pattons. I just throw a laundry bound towel down and then finish the job with a baby wipe and go on my merry way back to drawer organizing and feeding Sebastian and cleaning the bathroom with the other side of the used baby wipe while half listening for signs of not trouble from Julia and humming that awful Chamillionaire song I have stuck in my nog. And yes she has access to her little potty and no I do not want potty training advice. I might need it but I don't want it. Maybe when Simon's hours normalize a little bit we can hurdle that mile high milestone but right now is not the time.
Am I finished talking about pee on the floor yet? no. It gets less exciting. Sebastian has a bit of a height advantage over me in the great urine treasure hunting race and I have to admit that he has crocodiled his way over to the liquid booty before I can say "no means stop slithering now, please!" and he happily has a nice splash (maybe some licks but I don't want to embarrass him or myself) party while I grab the baby wipes to give him a "bath".
So, this is the tiny thorn in my side this week. Last week was Julia's clinging (which is still not great but she allows Simon to change her diaper now which is greatly appreciated) and next week I'm sure it will be something so wildly exciting that I can't even begin to fathom what it might be but it will eventually pass just like this week's pee thorn (that is poking me sharply even though I am not bringing this upon myself by attempting to potty train her highness -- let us be clear -- I am the martyr) will soon be a distant memory that I won't even remember unless I come back and read this quality post that is littered with zero run-on sentences.
If you're worried that my baditude has suddenly vanished and I've morphed into an optimistic parenting unicorn with a heart-shaped tail, please don't be. I'm just an obviously wise mom veteran of almost two whole years sharing an earth shattering and probably short-lived perspective with all of you readers that can't think for yourselves. You can thank me now. Or later. Or never.