A Quickly Declining Kind of Day

Ahhh, indulging myself in a big ol’ hunk of chocolate mint fudge, whilst sipping a glass of wine and about to turn on the new season of Arrested Development on Netflix.

Today was tough.

Today, was one of those days, where you want to go and find a deep dark cavern to hide away in; smoke millions of cigarettes, drink thousands of alcoholic beverages,  cuss without thinking twice and pretend you are 21 again. Today was undeniably one of those days.

I must admit it started out fabulous, too good to be true really. I should have known, but hey I was in too much of a damn euphoric mood to notice anything out of the ordinary this day of wakening.

Why, you ask, was I in such a super duper fantabulous place in my life when I woke up this morning?

Yesterdays Blog post, ‘How Do I Tell Him’ went over very well in my modest social media networking circa, and that made me feel rather lovely, and it somehow jump started my verve for anything joyous once more.

Yay for me.

In fact I was feeling so  wonderful, that I packed up the children and we went to the beach. This too, went spectacularly well and as we drove home after our 4 hours of splishy slpashing in tepid water, and building sand castles of monstrous proportions, I thought to myself,

“I don’t think anything could ruin this day. This day, is one of the best days ever!”

Maybe it was the heat that had gotten to me, maybe it was the endorphin rush I had been playing off all morning, but as soon as I reflected the statement I regretted it.

It was almost as if the wee ones, that were strapped into their car seats feet behind me, read my mind, and BOOM!

Goodbye marvellous, GLORIOUS day….Hello torment and tribulation.

The male child was now fervently kicking the back of my seat. Spitting out the mantra, ‘I wanna Freezie, I wanna Freezie…’

Sophie joins in.


This statement threw the two of them for a loop, but only for a moment, they are very resilient for their age category I feel.

“Um Mama, there’s a store right there, maybe you go get us something from there…” This was not a question that came from the four years old, but more of a statement, and a unabashed one at that.

“No.” It was the kind of ‘no’ that a mother can be proud of. The kind that only the one word, due to its tone, is sufficient.

And it was, and I prided myself inwardly.

Upon arriving home, the children finally got their freezie since hey, at least they were quiet for the last part of the trip. I then set to the task of cleaning up.

They were weary, so I popped in a movie and let them be.

Well that was, until I spotted the little princess potty, that a wonderful neighbor of mine gave to Sophie to assist us in our potty training adventure rollercoaster.

“Sophieeee,” I conjure up one of my chirpiest  Mommy voices, “How about we try out the potty that Brooklyn gave you? Do you want to be a big girl like your friends?” The tone of my voice sickens even me.


This too was a ‘no’ one could be proud of. But not for its cool and collected manner as mine was earlier, but for its loud, shrieking, undeniably desolate, ear piercing nature.

Clearly the girl did not want to sit on this princess potty.

I pressed.

“Come on baby, if you pee on the potty, you will get a treat.” Bribery, enough said.

‘Well I do love treats, and you know, all my friends are doing this potty thing. Maybe I will give it a shot. Yes…I will sit on that potty, and I SHALL BE VICTORIOUS!’ My imaginings of what my two year old is thinking at this moment.

Three hours my friends…Three whole hours go by, without a single drop of piddle in that princess potty. Although, it held Barbie heads at some point along with the hidden crust of a PBJ and Lars decided to take a spin on the thing. Yet sadly no Sophie pee ever rested within its pink plastic bowl.

I began making dinner, as I had had enough with the potty training for one day, but with a whim of hope decided not to put the girls diaper back on, thinking she just might surprise me and take the initiative and go on her own.

Oh she took the initiative, she took the initiative by removing all of my books off the bookshelf, heaping them into an astonishing pile of; Auel, Brown, Tolkien, Frost and so many more  and relieved her three hour dry stint upon my favorite authors work, all within a matter of minutes.

I wince to think back upon it.

The rest of the evening was much the same as the previous, with the exception of Television sounds and anything joy filled in regards to my darling daughters activity list.

Her and I sat on the floor and wiped up her pee puddles off the many books I have collected over the years and I cried silent tears of contrition, for not visualizing this calamity in the making.

I fear the urine smell will linger.

I hope that soon she will be victorious (her words not mine) in her potty training endeavour, but only time and patients will tell…And hopefully no more literature will become her victim in the process.

But I will tide myself over for now, with Fudge, Wine, Arrested Development and the knowledge that never again, will I jinx myself by even thinking the phrase;

‘I don’t think anything could ruin this day.’

Because in the end,  peed upon hardbacks, are most definitely a downer to a quickly declining kind of day.


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