Fast

These girls are growing fast. 

Slow.... Fast. Slow.... Fast. 

Funny girls.  Wild girls. Clever girls.

I want to tell the world about them but grapple with the laziness (or perhaps just fatigue) of the daily grind.

Fast.... Slow.... Fast.... Slow....

Like the months well-after potty training has completed successfully where moms and dads are still racing to pottys on a moments notice.  It’s all incredibly benign and eventfully uneventful. (Yes. That’s a thing).

Since starting a new school recently, Alana has occasional “accidents” and has seemingly regressed though is rather practical about her transgressions.  Or non-committal to the idea it was her who peed in her pants. 

“Alana we don’t pee pee in our pants” I remind her.

“Nooooooooo. It was Sophia. She took my panties and she pee pee in dem’.”  Her tall tales of someone else peeing in her pants is all new. The latest unicorn and faery story she’s adopted since starting at her new Montessori last month. 

“Mmmmmmm”. Is all I can offer in response.  And ignoring her excuse, remind her again “we don’t pee peein our pants. We pee pee on the potty.”

And the whole potty journey is one of epic proportions, isn’t it? 

It’s funny. It’s urgent. It’s 4 seconds of dancing in her pants before I sometimes have to ask her if she has to go potty.

And, at times,  I can see her calculating whether she can wait another 14 seconds to enjoy whatever toy she is huddled over. 

It’s all quite darling. 

And every once in a blue moon I stand idly by as she, presumably, goes potty and when I don’t hear the tell-tale evidence of a tinkle I’ll ask her what’s up. 

“There’s no pee pee” she offers. Her small hand turned upward and askew to signal even she is baffled by the false alarm.  And not one to not have a thoughtful response at the ready, she reasons “My pee pee is at work.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh” I oblige. “Okay, pee pee is at work”.

(Remember that taking a toddler potty is the least magical moment of the mornings, afternoons and evenings and sometimes the conversation gets strange). 

Such is motherhood. 

And my imaginative daughter further suggests “my pee pee is at work in my butt”.

And then nothing.

I could neither confirm nor deny whether that was a plausible reason for Alana’s inability to tinkle in that moment.

I blinked rapidly. A little bewildered. My brain was incapable of response.  Completely amused. I replied with the only logical response I could muster: 

“Yes. Your pee pee is at work in your butt”. 

And that’s.... that’s the latest mom life highlight. 

(And here’s just a few more highlights)