Pass the Silver Bucket

Okay, you can pass the silver bucket now (for those of you who don’t know, once you start the waiting game again, you chain yourself to a bucket because it’s so nerve-wracking you want to hurl). I e-mailed the book to England. Normally I kiss my submissions goodbye before I send them off, but I was slightly afraid of electrocuting myself. Don’t worry, I blew it a kiss instead. Now everyone has to send good karma thoughts across the water.

Last night was one of those nights when I wanted to resign motherhood. Those of you without children, this is one of those times when you can be thankful. Let’s just say that it involved cloth training pants (because my daughter’s diaper rash looked UGLY), digestive issues, and a huge wonkin’ bottle of Spot Shot. I actually did something I’ve never done before. I hauled her Royal Stinkiness into the bathroom and hosed her down under the bathtub faucet. She howled. For the record, she deserved it after destroying her room. I believe my words were akin to @#$% gross! $@#$% yuck! @#$@#% NASTY! I did not rinse off the training pants and later throw them in the laundry. I tossed them in the trash because honey, it AIN’T worth it. Ick! It was tempting to set them on fire to disinfect, but I decided that might be a bit drastic.

She, of course, stared at me with confusion. I could read her thoughts. “But Mommy, isn’t this your lot in life?”

Not if I can help it.

This is the downside of toilet training. It’s messy business and it takes time and patience. It’s very hard to have patience when you’re sitting next to the carpet with a can of Spot Shot and a roll of paper towels. THIS is the part they don’t tell you about when you’re cuddling that wrinkly widdle fuzzy baby with the big eyes and the soft curving smile that melts your heart into a thousand pieces. If they weren’t cute, I swear, they wouldn’t be alive.

However, if anyone is interested in a seventeen-month-old baby girl up for auction on Ebay, I’ll sell her to you. Best offer? Buy it now?