If you don't want to be disabused of any illusions you have about child-rearing, stop reading now. Seriously. I MEAN it. There is some pretty unadulterated confession to follow, so DO NOT continue reading if you want to keep believing that parenthood is all happy, lovey, seamless transitioning from one stage of life to the next.
Well, you've been warned.
I must be completely insane. Due to the 4th of July being this weekend, hubs and I both had Friday off. I also went ahead and asked for Monday off, giving me a glorious four-day weekend. And what did I choose to do with this extra time? Relax? Take a quick trip out of town? Do some serious retail damage? Noooooo. In our total arrogance, hubs and I thought we'd get a start on potty training.
Someone please just punch me in the face.
So far, we have had moderate success (2 semi-successful tries on Friday, three semi-successful tries yesterday, and then a bunch of trying today), but this process is so exhausting. It's not that we're not making progress, but I keep thinking to myself, "Geez, I could just be kicking back and enjoying the ONLY four-day weekend I've had since returning to work in January."
Parenting is about sacrifice. It's about giving of yourself, even when you don't feel particularly inclined to do so.
And, apparently, it's also about cleaning up poop off the floor.