Most jobs I’ve applied for since college, I wanted. This summer is different. I’m potty training my 3 year-old son. You might say that he is late in this endeavor. Procrastination. For me, not him.
If there were one single job I could hire out, this would be it. I even joked with a friend who used to be a nanny because she was hired once to do just that. But I went through this with my daughter and I totally botched the job. I can’t think of anyone who could have done it worse. The fact that she still speaks to me says more about her than me. I feel personally challenged to get it right this time – this parenting rite of passage.
I have a new attitude this time. I’m in this for the long haul and I will just take each day as it comes. He’s different than she is, more alone and inside his own head most of the time. That’s not bad but different. And the out-of-doors where the training occurs is much colder up here in the Great Northwest. Summer doesn’t arrive until after the 4th of July, shortening the training time in nature.
Boy child has taken to this well since the skittles rules was enacted and the drink of choice is now Chrystal Light. So far, the biggest casualty of this job was a seven year-old computer. My sanity is still intact but the floor needs to be mopped again. There’s a funky smell in the air outside. I hope it is the raccoon nesting in the tree.
The job is almost done. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. In the fall, I will have twelve, count them, twelve whole day-time hours to myself. Alone. No potty seat in sight. No argument over toys. Just quiet. I won’t even know what to do with myself. I’ll probably think back, fondly, about this summer job.
