Lo, the weary

"Mommmm! I peeing!"

The week of too many bodily fluids. In the spirit of no time like the present, I dove into my last series of potty training. I am no better at it now than I was the first time. The only thing different about Effort #4 from Effort#1 is that I now know just how little I have to do with the success of it all. No, success will be up to the little ornery mind controlling the business.
And control it he does, with a loud voice and a willful leak.
He has kept me on a short tether, and has only to yell the "p" word to know I will come running. He teeters between wanting to please and wanting to wreak havoc with his new power. I like to think it was a choice that he let loose right *beside* the new rug, rather than on it. Just to let me know he held back, for what it was worth. To make it an accident rather than an act of war.
It's all the Advent Banner's fault. The stair rail curves down to the changing table, which is ruining the look of my darling decoration! So, it was only a small jump from "Yuck, I have to move that changing pad" to "(*sigh*) I have to move that changing pad forever."
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"MOM! My tooth is bleeeeeding!"

The week of too many bodily fluids. In between the pee calls, have been the bloody tooth screams. Jadyn has a front tooth that is hanging by some inhuman titanium thread. For THREE days she has ghosted along behind me, moaning "I can't take it, I can't take it anymoooore! Get it out!" And the darn dangler is gray and twisted and caved in like a prizefighter's loss. I have made her geriatric, no-chewing-necessary meals for THREE days. Last night I dreamed her tooth came out and she presented it to me like a prize. I wanted to bronze it.

Lo, I am the weary, and there is no rest. :)
I am hoping for two small victories: a dry-underwear day and a lost tooth.