I realized very early on that potty training was the single-most exasperating task when dealing with toddlers. With The Oldest I was relentless. “Do you need to use the potty?”, ”Did you use the potty?”, “Why won’t you use the fucking potty?” I seemed to believe that the only way I could prove my worth as a mother was to have this mammal potty trained at the earliest possible moment. It seems that, by societal standards, if your child isn’t potty trained before their off the breast you’ve failed as a mother and your child is viewed as an imbecile (maybe that’s why so many mothers breast feed until their child goes to Kindergarten?). With this child I was acutely in tune to every noise, action, or lack of either, that would signal that he was about to evacuate some orifice in his body. It got to the point that every time I called out, “what are you do-ing?” the poor child answered with, “I’m not poo-ping!”

The Middle was drastically easier. That child sees what his older brother is doing or has accomplished and instinctively sets out to best him. I kid you not, this child potty trained himself!

And now, with The Oldest, I’ve had a completely different experience. You see, I’m older, I tire more easily, and I just don’t have the drive for perfection that I started with. Once The Baby figured out how to pee in the pot (and its been pretty hit-or-miss about how consistently he actually uses it) I kind of took a less compelling route to total potty independence. He has underwear in his drawer, but let’s be honest, the Pull-Ups are so damned convenient and easier to deal with when I forget to make him potty. On top of that, this kid is a little more worldly than the others. When I asked him why he wouldn’t poop in the potty, he explained, very seriously, that “I’m just not ready.”   When I pressed him further, “Well, when are you going to start pooping in the potty?” he lovingly cupped my faced in his tiny little pudgy hands and very patiently said, “when I’m ready.” So, not needing to make any more work for myself, I let it go. When a kids not ready, a kids not ready, right? Why push the matter?

Today, apparently, he was ready. He rushed into the kitchen where I was putting away groceries and said, “Mama, I have to poop!” Now, I know he’s new at this, and it’ll take some time to develop his skill and figure out how everything works, but so far, that one turd, which I’m sure is just a regular sized turd, has required 8 trips to the bathroom, each of which produced a single pellet. Making this one poop an eight part series.

A few months ago some crazy, apocalyptic-type shit went down in my life. As a result of that, I was hesitant to speak, much less blog about anything.  The result of that is that I failed to blog about the birthday of my wonderful son, The Oldest.

Ten years ago a little creature showed up who rattled my world. Suddenly, I was somebody’s mother, and it actually felt different. I’d been sure that motherhood would never change me, and then I found that the very core of my existence had been flipped on its axis. I found that I could give completely, could think first of another and that I could survive with only 30 minutes of sleep at a time for weeks!

In ten years he has brought me some of my highest moments, as well as my most crushing defeats (why the hell is potty training such a nightmare?). There have been times when I’ve hurt so bad for him. It’s true, he doesn’t fit neatly into many molds and that doesn’t go unnoticed by other kids–and adults–who can be so mean and dismissive. And I want to scream at them, with pride and rage, “Don’t you see that’s what makes him so goddamn unique you single-dimensional fuck!”

He makes me laugh with his witty insight and goofy sense of humor. He challenges me  with his stubborn nature. He warms my heart when he cuddles me. And I love that boy.

The Oldest’s birthday falls near Memorial Day weekend (fittingly!). This year, school was still in session during his birthday for the first time. It was the last day of school, but it still counts!  The fourth grade field trip was also scheduled for the last day of school. I went with his class on a trip to Ouray, CO. The entire fourth grade class went on a tour of an old silver mine, had a picnic lunch, and then went swimming at the Ouray Hot Springs Pool.

Beautiful Ouray, CO…  

At the mine  

The Oldest with his mining hat   

Here is our charming tour guide on the mine tour (proof that some people really should work underground. Deep, deep underground) 

The birthday finished up two days later with an official birthday party, group viewing of Kung Fu Panda 2 with a few friends, and a sleep-over (if you look really close you might be able to see all nine bodies…) I think the thing that he most appreciated was the fact that the entire 4th grade class was able to share in his 10th birthday. “Well, son, I planned it that way just for you!” And if he doesn’t believe that, you can bet that this late post will someday be used against me. Along with all the others!