Maybe you’re like me. Maybe every day in some way you feel like a newly fallen turnip. A rookie. A beginner. A little wet behind the ears. When I had a baby, I glanced over my shoulder to discover regurgitated breast milk dripping down my back. That’s when everything — not just motherhood — seemed a little more important. A little more up in a ponytail. A little more up in the air.

Posts Tagged "poop"

Princess and the Potty

Yesterday I received news you dream of hearing. It wasn’t that I had won the lottery, or that I had become fully hydrated without having to drink water, or that John Krasinski had become my fan on Facebook. It was that Madeline had gone pee-pee in the potty at preschool. It’s a first. For weeks,…   read more

Potty Lock: Lessons From a Brief Imprisonment

On Saturday I had the privilege of seeing life from the confines of a 4 x 7 foot cell. Not as a result of petty theft or even because of solidarity with my imprisoned Christian brethren, but because I closed the door to the bathroom. And it was broken. And I’m an idiot. You have…   read more

Knock On Porcelain: He’s Trained!

Well, folks, it looks like I have a potty-trained child. Aren’t you thrilled? If you read this blog regularly, you are, because this means you will now get to enjoy a vast array of new topics related to world affairs, recipe mishaps, and celebrity speculation, instead of all things poop and poopy pants and pedestrian…   read more

Would You Rather Be a Girlieman?

I like to play a game called “Would You Rather” with my sillier friends. It’s kind of like Truth or Dare except without the dare and where the truth is entirely hypothetical — just the kind of game risk-adverse control freak first-born romantics love to play. Each person takes turns answering questions like, “Would you…   read more

Pottying at Preschool: When Honesty is the Second-Best Policy

On Thursday Drew begins preschool. It is a lovely preschool and he has a lovely teacher who has lovely dimples. The (lovely) doorknobs on his classroom doors are brass with an actual keyhole, like keyholes in movies where mice are always peeking through to spot blocks of cheese. I might have chosen this preschool for…   read more

Slow-Mo Mommy: When I Just Don’t Care Enough

I helped give a baby shower this weekend for a friend who is expecting her second son. There must have been trace amounts of progesterone debris orbiting my head because I was delighted every time she unwrapped a onesie. Jill’s most craft-y friends were the ones giving the shower, of course. And then there was…   read more

Courage for Tedium

(Preview: Chatter letter from the Editor, September 2011.) Right now there is a man with a bad attitude in my house. I don’t know why he is so testy, but I am grateful for the opportunity to use the word “testy.” Well, maybe I do have a small idea. He is, at this very moment,…   read more

Of Seagulls, Liquor and Lauren Hutton: A Beach Remembrance

Last week was our first-ever bona fide family vacation. We went to Destin, FL with my in-laws, my sister-in-law and her hubby, and their 6-month-old baby girl. Gordon and I had been excited for months, but of course Things One and Two didn’t know what to expect, or what hit them when we finally arrived….   read more

Romancing the Throne: Married and Potty Training

OK, confession time: There MIGHT have been ONE or TWO times this week when I smelled that Drew had defaced his underwear and then pretended not to notice. Gordon was home and I was waiting for him to detect it “first.” I would find other pressing matters – the tiny weed sprouts emerging from the…   read more

Suppository Avoidance and The Big Braum’s Tease

Sometimes medical professionals have a hard time diagnosing me. It’s not that I’m made of steel or that I am from the planet Tatween; it’s that I’m somewhat of a hypochondriac plus there was that time I drank the tiger blood. My heart arrhythmia from college was first thought to be caffeine-related, then due to…   read more