A little too thankful

At this point, everything in my life revolves around poopoos, tootoots, and peepees. If I am not asking Claire if she has to, then I am helping her on false alarms, or I am cleaning up her "I didn't bother to go on the potty" messes. This kind of reality distorts your sense of class as a woman. A couple of weeks ago, I was at dinner with a couple of g irls who do not yet have kids. I apparently seem to suffer for what we call pressure of speech, because I randomly brought up that Claire went poopoos in the potty for the first time. To my surprise, a brief moment of silence followed. I could see the gi rls racking their brains, looking for the any response to my incredibly intelligent revelation. One g irl couldn't hide the "what is wrong with you, you disgusting piece of trailer trash?" written all over her face but she recovered with a forced smile and gave a much more politically correct, "oh that's nice." It was at this point when I realized any great conversational skills I once may have had are long gone.

So now that I have acknowledged to myself that I have a distortion problem, I no longer trust my judgment when it comes to deciding what's appropriate and what's not. We have been teaching Claire to say her prayers, and usually she will fold her arms, close her eyes, and shake her head no with everything we say. Tonight we hit a milestone, though. She actually started saying things that she was thankful for, coming up with them all on her own. It started because I said we were thankful for our friend, baby Luke. Well, Claire picked up on that and started to name the rest of the family. . we are thankful for Rachel, we are thankful for Dan (they're Luke's parents) and then Claire says we are thankful for poopoos. . . I couldn't help it, I laughed, but Claire remained focused and kept on praying. . . we are thankful for potties, we are thankful for peepees, and we are thankful for poopoos (one more time, just for good measure). At this point if finally occurred to me, being that my judgment can no longer be trusted, that maybe it isn't appropriate for Claire to be praying about these things, and that I should stop her. But I was just tickled that she was learning to come up with her own prayer and I didn't want to interrupt her. So I reached a compromise and I changed the direction her prayer was going with a "we are thankful for grandma and grandpa" and needless to say, my expert mother skills saved the day.

Now I know you are whole heartedly expecting at this point of the blog a 'sorry for the crappy entry', but please, I am way above that kind of classless humor. I am actually thankful for poopoos, too. If there were no poopoos, there would be no Claire, limited conversation starts, no pooping in a bag story, and no topic for today's blog. In fact I think we should all take a moment to be thankful for the poopoos in our life.