A week in the life…
1) Jack wore underpants to Dairy Queen tonight. I should explain that this was his father’s doing as I am still recovering from a long week of dealing with him peeing his pants, pooping his diaper at nightonly to then remove it and bring it to me for immediate disposal, peeing more pants, pooping more diapers and one strange incident of him relieving himself dangerously close to the Christmas tree. There is noway in hell that I would voluntarily take him anywhere in nothing less than a 40-ply diaper. Why? Because I don’t trust him. Not one bit. Not even if my life depended on it would I trust that kid to tell me when he had to weewee. Am I prolonging the duration of potty training by requiring him to wear a diaper to Target? Possibly. Am I saving myself from undue stress and an inevitable meltdown worthy of the Walmart customer service desk on payday? Yes. Oh, and in case you were wondering, Jack did not pee his pants at Dairy Queen. But rest assured that he will undoubtedly do so tomorrow.
2) Avery started her first phase of orthodontic work this week. So, Avery has unfortunately inherited some pretty gnarly teeth, a narrow jaw and a cross-bite. She is only 6 1/2 and already looks like she hales from some scary and remote part of the Appalachian mountains, but is apparently at the perfect age to correct her issue. She has received what is called an expander glued to her top molars and rests (un)comfortably on the roof of her mouth. Her? She’s absolutely estatic over the appliance and is pretty sure that this is the coolest thing to ever happen to her. Me? I’m a nervous wreck anticipating the moment when she wakes up and realizes that the thing actually sucks.
3) I volunteered in Avery’s first-grade class today and the kids called me “Jodi.” Which would be perfectlyfine if my name was actually “Jodi.” I can see that all of my hardwork and one-on-one time with the students is really starting to pay off.
4) A package was delivered to my front door this morning. The third, in fact, package delivered this week. After my experiencea couple of days ago with the meanest postal carrier on the face of the planet, I saw the mailtruck drive up and I swear I felt hives developing in uncomfortable places. I waited for the doorbell to ring, approached the front door, took a deep breath and opened it. You know what greeted me? A very friendly man who slightly resembled Santa Clause. He handed me my package and told me to have a “Very Happy Holiday.” Amazing. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel whole again.
So, this about sums up my week. I had planned onwriting something a little more elaborate, a little more humorous, a little more…important. But this, being the end of a very long and exhausting week, is all I’ve got. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend! Don’t worry about me…I’ll be resting somewhere with my feet up sipping a hot buttered rum. Or two.