I’ve been having these really disjointed dreams, the kind you can wake up from and wonder for a second if they really happened, like yesterday or something. I’m having that feeling like I’m just kind of existing right now, trying to jump from lily pad to lily pad of tolerable things that I actually want to do.
Companion commented that I “must not but cut out for high stress jobs.” I initially took that as a slap in the face, because children have been (literally, sometimes) been shitting on me for six-plus years now. And he was right there as I went through grad school. I didn’t just print out my degree online, which I used to daydream about in class when people would start arguing about copyright or OMGWATC*? I knew someone when I was in college who had done that, it he was making a fine living as a fraud. (No, it wasn’t my ex-husband, although it’s a good guess. It takes too much effort and motivation to go the fake degree route.)
So I thought about it for a few days, and I think it’s just that this auction bugs. I don’t like coming into things when they’re more than halfway there as kind of a cleanup bitch, because I am one of those way planny types. Maybe it would be okay if I had already done an auction before. People are neglecting to tell me things. My name is signed to letters I didn’t actually write. But it’s over on Saturday, and I will no longer be chair-in-training, I will be chair.
But I am wondering if next year I’ll still be somewhat of a sockpuppet, partially because of this precedent, and partly because my relationship with the school has changed. I know in the past parents have been able to really throw down about stuff, because they were unpaid volunteers. I won’t be an unpaid volunteer next year. Where does the parent end and the employee begin?
I did not expect this to be my first job after grad school, that’s for sure.
Anyway, it’s over soon, and the day after we are dying Easter eggs and getting back to normal life. No more dreams about snowboarding, something I have never done and have no desire to do, and wine tastings, something I have never done and very much want to do.
*”What about the children,” of course.
In Other News: Lifted off the Interwebs
Fastest toilet training method, developed while babysitting.
Take one older child, trained properly.
Add one younger untrained child who is of the correct age and mental development to be trained.
Tell older child that every time younger child successfully uses toilet, they each get a 1/4 cup of M&Ms. If the parents are health nuts, too bad. Explain the benefits of not having to change diapers many, many times a day.
Result: older child watches younger child like a hawk, and sits them on the toilet every five minutes.Fastest successful toilet training: one single day.
Stupidest child took all of four days. (Or this was the smartest child, milking the system for more chocolate goodness. Your call.)I hated changing diapers.
The true beauty of the method is that you know what both children are going to be doing all day and where they will be…and the true obsessiveness of a child hell-bent on cadging sweeties knows no bounds. The younger child may develop bowl butt (unsightly rim ring) but the end result is reduced diaper costs.
Tempting, tempting.
I believe the proper terminology is WATFC. You forgot your modifier, gangsta.
Just remember to spit out the wine. Did you ever see the Vincent Price movie with the wine taster jerk? Be that jerk, SJ. Be it.
Holy shit! That is a BRILLIANT method of potty training. Wish it would have come to my attention years ago. Bummer. But! I have several nieces and nephews of the correct age for this method; several of my cousins will now benefit from the wisdom of the ‘Net.
(I dunno, man. Some people may dislike the method, but I think – having been through it – WHATEVER WORKS.)
I am so. Fucking. Sick. Of trying to convince my kid to sit on the potty. I must steal an older child for a weekend.
Great potty training trick. Too bad I have an only child. Tant pis. (There’s some bad pun in there, I just don’t know what!)
I’m having that feeling like I’m just kind of existing right now, trying to jump from lily pad to lily pad of tolerable things that I actually want to do.
Yeah.
Auction: I was impressed with your courage. I doubt your problem is high stress since that kind of thing would be a bucketful of annoyance. I hope it goes well! And is over soon! And you all get rich, rich, rich.
Love your blog! I’ll be back. And we totally potty trained with M&M’s and got it done in a weekend. One for pee. Two for poo!
Oh man the auction thing sounds very annoying. You DO get to stomp. Especially if paid. Be firm and outline your requirements for information and control, don’t get roped into the trap of being given responsibility for something but no authority or access to do it. that’s always a good phrase as it gets through to manager-type people fairly well. You refuse to be responsible if you don’t have the authority to do the job. (Power!)
We did that except with stickers and sometimes gum. It worked really really well. We didn’t have the older one doing all the watching, but since they are always together it worked out that way for the most part. Give it a try!
We tried potty-training my daughter recently, but she went into a panic and woulnd’t even pee in diapers after we offered them to her. She didn’t pee until she fell asleep.
Poor kid! Trauma!!!!!
Doesn’t it seem ridiculous how much worry we about traumatizing kids during potty training? What is the big deal. Humanoids have roamed the earth for 100,000 years. There have only been diapers for a few hundred of those years. Does that mean that humans were more or less traumatized in early human history during toilet training?
I think parents are more traumatized by the process because they are afraid of “doing it” wrong and therefore causing damage. Of course, I don’t have kids (maybe that’s obvious by now), so what do I know.
I found you, love the blog, and am deeply honoured that my potty training guidance is being appreciated!
In the interest of full disclosure: I am childfree. However, spent many, many years with Other People’s Children.
Whether this factored into the childfreeness, well, I will leave that as an exercise for the reader.