I found a new (to me) podcast in which comedians talk about their mental health issues, and sometimes the host features listeners talking about their issues. On a whim I emailed this guy last night to ask if he'd ever be interested in my story of escape from a cult, with the resultant family fracture/anxiety/depression. I didn't expect to hear back from him - but he wrote back right away to ask if I ever get to LA, and today we wrote back and forth trying to find a day to meet to talk about it. This doesn't mean I'll be on the show - he may pass, or wait until he feels it's appropriate. But I am super excited. Me? On a podcast??? So awesome!!!
On another whim, I decided to put Bobby in underpants today. We spent yesterday with a friend who is younger than B and is completely potty trained; I thought I would take the opportunity to talk to him about it, show him the underpants I have stowed away, and ask him if he wanted to try. He was really into it, and I was so proud he stayed dry all morning...until right before we got to school, when I handed him a drink and he had a HUGE pee all over the car seat. I had put down a "piddle pad" in the seat for just such an occasion, but it failed miserably - the entire seat was soaked. Wah wah wah wah...once changed and at school I told the teachers what I was trying, but when I picked him up he had been in a diaper all day (apparently at his request). I'm not sure where to go from here other than to keep trying...I mean, Bobby not in diapers is going to seriously cramp my style and completely change everything that we do, and make my life a lot more difficult and complicated...but I recognize that it's not about my comfort but where he needs to be developmentally; he's going to be three, we need to get this show on the road. So, I'll just keep trying...and cleaning up pee (and worse).
Today is Theo's first birthday and I have decided his last nursing session. This morning was just miserable with him screaming in frustration and me feeling vacuumed; we're done. It's been a pleasure, but both of my boys deserve to move on up in life now. Does this mean I get to have my post-weaning tattoo at last done? ((Bites nails))