Isn’t parenting fun? When I have a childless friend ask what I do with my days, I have to laugh. I laugh, because I am anticipating the look of sheer horror that is going to spread across their face when I tell them. What I do with my days is use every ounce of creative energy I possess to strategize around other peoples’ bodily functions.

The Bear is taking to potty training like a pro. For him, the ability was there months and months ago but the motivation was totally absent. What worked was giving him a deadline to anticipate. Once the sun dawned on undies day, he has never looked back and has only had a few wee accidents. (Guffaw!)

Just one hitch: public restrooms give him the screaming heebie jeebies. The huge maw of the giant toilet, the loud echoing flushes, the pressure from mama to “just go already so we can move on with our day,” all combine to make him totally lose it if I start getting the folding potty seat out of my bag. (Another bonus for the childless friend: I carry a toilet seat in my purse.)What’s a mama to do? I could try only traveling as far as 15 minutes from home, so I can rush back at ninety miles an hour if he needs to go. Or I could pack a drawer full of spare outfits for all the accidents and line his car seat with trash bags. (Oooh, fun! Laundry!) Or a catheter, perhaps?

No. What I did is put a potty in the back of the van. After adding toilet paper and hand sanitizer, all our vehicle needs is some charming curtains and a newspaper or two to complete the complete bathroom vibe. But if it means I can get out and about and keep the Bear from exploding, I am all for it.

Now, he is good to go!

Once again, I don’t know how mamas and daddies of large families do it. How do they get two seconds of peace? I have only two kidlets (so far) and they can just drive me insane. Saturday, toward the end of a long car trip, they sat and argued over sharing an imaginary piece of gum. I repeat: the gum in question did not actually exist. This is the kind of thing that makes the top of my skull just pop right off, with a crackly sizzling noise.

But wouldn’t you know it, they pay me back with moments like these… They know how to win my heart every time.

“I want to snuggle with the Bear.” she told me. And he agreed. Cute little monkeys, aren’t they?

I am not a logical person. Proceed accordingly.

Your IQ Is 120

Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Exceptional Your General Knowledge is Above Average

Be careful who you wreck into. You may find you are not as tough as you think.

I haven’t laughed this hard in a long, long time.

(Her toughest “Knock out cancer” pose.)

Since it was two days of excitement and walk walk walking, the kidlets were toast by Saturday afternoon. Or else from the constant junk food from various vendors. I was a stupid fool and bought a sno-cone for myself, and found out that, yes, sugar is still a major no-no.

(“Hand over the candy and no one gets hurt.”)

Fast forward to Wednesday. The Bear was informed that diapers are no longer where it’s at, and that a new adventure was before him: in five days he would be Big and begin to wear undies. The boy was never going to do it on his own (He told me, “I’m not into the potty right now.”) so we were going to go cold turkey. We had a big countdown to undies day, talked about it like crazy, and got out aaaall the big boy pants I’d been saving for a reward all this time.

Then today came. I was prepared for battle with a sunshiny grin on my face. Got him out of bed singing, “Today is undie day! Today is undie day!” and for the first time in his little life he covered his eyes and grinned because mama was so embarrassing. (This pose is usually his sister’s gig.) But he got up, put on his big boy pants, and faced the day. I took the potty and several changes of clothes down to breakfast with us.

I needed the one, but not the other. Wouldn’t you know it, the kid went on the potty – even stopping his play to tell me he needed to go – all morning with no accidents. And he was not pleased when I said he needed to wear a pull-up to nap, just in case. “But it’s crunchy!” he wailed. So I think he likes the undies.

Now it’s on to a life of two pairs of pants/briefs/socks everywhere we go, and visiting every public restroom known to humanity when we shop. Just call it Mama and the Bear’s Potty Tour 2006.

I first heard about the upcoming “Snakes on a Plane” over at Yorkie Blog. That movie is going to be a hoot, and even if Samuel L. Jackson swears himself breathless through the whole thing, I am probably going to want to go see it.

It’ll be even better, thanks to life imitating art.

Pilot Fights Black Snake Stowaway on Plane

I need a good, stiff drink. Really – I do.

For weeks now, I have been craving cocktails. Not beer or wine (which I usually prefer) but mixed drinks. Mojitos. Colorado bulldogs. Margaritas. I think about them all day long. It makes my mouth water, they sound so good!

This is highly unusual. Typically when I’m busy gestating, I can’t even stand my very own (delicious but fairly flammable) fruitcake. My pregnant body has always shuddered at the thought of booze. Now I can’t get it out of my head. (And just in case you were a wee bit concerned, no – I’m not acting on these cravings. But they’re driving me nuts!) So what is the deal?

Finally, I realized where this is all coming from: sugar withdrawal. I have been going without sugar because I’ve found that it makes me really ill. (My midwife is dancing with glee.) A tiny scoop of ice cream will make me crash for a whole day. Before this babe, I ate scads of candy, had ice cream at a whim, and piled the cookies high on my plate. Now…nothing. Last night, my big treat was a grapefruit. Because I was out of apples. Woo. Hoo.

Alcohol is just pure sugars. My bod is crying out for sugar so badly, it’s craving the hard stuff. Man, it’s going to be a long six and a half months.

Pollyanna that I am, I can still see an up side to this whole situation. I will forever be able to tell this person inside me See how you are?! Before you were even born, you were driving me to drink!