Thursday, January 19, 2012

And just like that, the memory vault is cracked open

Today I had the good fortune of receiving an out-of-the-blue instant message from a friend at work telling me how much she enjoyed reading my blog.

Me: Thank you! That's so sweet!
Molly: I stayed up too long reading it.
Me: I should have started it years ago, I have lots of stories.
Molly: You should start a flashback series.


Too bad I don't own an actual DeLorean.

So here we go, Flashback Series Entry #1. Thanks, Molly! You kick ass!

Time: Summer, 2004
Place: Salt Lake City, Utah
Kids: Age 2 1/2
Challenge: Potty training, and not throwing myself from the roof

Who needs to use the actual potty when you have a diaper on to make it all so much easier? That's at least what I was convinced the boys, who had yet to formulate a complete verbal sentence, were saying to themselves.

The kids and I had been going around and around with the potty training and they just weren't havin' it. So I let them hang onto the safety and security of those diapers and didn't stress it...until this partuclar day.

Summers in Salt Lake City are hot and dry. So to avoid the mid-day heat, the kids were in their room with nothing by diapers on happily playing with their many many toys. All was well, the calm before the shitstorm...literally.

I started to hear all this giggling and excitement coming from their room and when I went to investigate, I found Clifford standing on his bed, diaper in hand, peeing down onto a battery-operated toy that clearly was never going to work properly again. Faster than the obscenities could travel through my brain and out of my mouth, I scanned the room only to spot Alexander, who had also taken off his diaper, which was NOT clean, and was happily steamrolling poop into the hardwood flooring with a plastic push toy.

Here comes the stroke.

It seems that although my sweet, well-behaved children refused to use the potty, NOTHING was going to stop them from making shitcakes on the floor, to the detriment of their toys.. and my sanity. Thank God it was warm out because I went bananas and threw every salvageable toy out into the front yard and hosed them all down. I considered doing the same to the kids but figured the neighbors couldn't handle that.

Internal dialogue:
Maybe I could just donate them to another family. The kids, not the toys.
Nah, they would just be returned within the week. What's the point in that?

So I kept them. The kids, not the toys.

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