Roll With It
Yesterday I was living the phrase “roll up your sleeves and get dirty.” Literally, I spent part of the afternoon with poop rolled up in my sleeve.
After a great week on the potty train (ending with a solid, dramatic flourish on Friday night…), I was on my own with Laurel all weekend and either my timing was completely off by 5 minutes all day, or Laurel was regressing or resisting. Yesterday was no better, and in the afternoon, during a much-needed visit with my pal Paige and her sons we had two accidents in quick succession right after a potty stop.
It’s completely awkward to try to clean poop off a kid who is not reclined on a changing mat, and as I was trying to negotiate this process I ended up with poop on my sleeve. And even though Paige would have happily given me a new shirt, it seemed high time for me to lighten up and start rolling with it. I had been fretting and judging myself all weekend with each passing accident, and as supportive as I tried to be, I’m sure Laurel could sense my stress. So up went the sleeve. And out when any further expectations on the should’s of this whole process.
Comments
Delurking to say: hang in there. I was elbow deep in poo this weekend too. It's so so gross!
And if you haven't already discovered it, I learned a cool trick from my daycare: train the wee ones to 'touch their toes' to make accident clean up much easier. It totally works.
Good luck!
Posted by: The Feminist Mafia | February 6, 2007 10:56 AM | Reply to this comment