Mondays are normally a day I look forward to. The day always ends with a few stoli's and my favorite drinking buddy, rehashing our week, venting, laughing, solving everyones problems ... it's a bright spot for both of us. The plan is to usually stay out long enough that the kids are in bed by the time we get home, so after a couple drinks, we can come home and just BE. Ahhhh.
Tonight, after breaking in a new bartender (seriously, we hate turnover ... they keep getting younger and if that new girl calls me ma'am one more time ...), revisiting the last couple weeks of events, and literally being the last customers to leave, I come home to what I hope will be a few minutes chatting with the teenager, then curling up with the remote and catching up on some dvr before crawling in to bed.
What I ACTUALLY come home to is a two year old curled up in my bed, on my side, looking oh so cute sleeping soundly next to daddy. I go into her room to get the bed ready to put her back into it, only to notice a diaper sitting on top of the bed. One that had obviously been on her recently. I look closer and notice the bottoms of her pajamas also on the bed. I go back to my room, pull back the covers and see a little girl with no diaper or pajama pants on, curled up, sound asleep. Then I realize that the wet spot I stepped in back by her bed was NOT water.
Seriously?
Seriously???
SERIOUSLY??????
I do NOT remember potty training being this entertaining with the boys. It gets easier, right?
Right?
Musings from a mom of three - a teen, a tween and a toddler - trying to retain some sanity.
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