Wednesday night was my second painting class. I’ve got to say upfront that I’m never going to be a great painter. I don’t see shapes and light right and I can’t draw. But I really am enjoying this and I think it’s going to expand my collage horizons in a nice way.
For class two, Jennifer gave us a palette of blue, brown, and white, and sent us off to paint. This is my painting, which I think is going to need to have some collage additions before I’m happy with it.
In other, decidely exciting, news in my house, Ollie, who is four, has finally succumbed to the allure of pooping on the potty. In the lexicon of our rather strange household, this requires what we so nicely in our house call the "I pooped on the potty party," which means Mama dashed home from work in the middle of the day to bake the party cake.
I’m not sure why his sword was on the kitchen counter and I didn’t notice it until I was part way done, but it seemed appropriate. I also discovered that child number two has been using an inordinate amount of sugar in his morning tea, so I had no white sugar. For future reference, brown sugar and Hershey’s dark chocolate powder produce a wonderful cake.
As interesting as it was to race home on my lunch hour to bake, I have to say it was more than worth it to finally, after four children and sixteen years of cloth diapering (with a few years of breaks in between children, notably my darling daughter who potty trained herself at the age of two) to finally be through with that stage of life.
Ollie seemed pretty pleased with the entire affair!
I am slightly concerned that I may have scarred him for life. You see, I really don’t potty train. I pretty much ignore the entire deal. But the Judge announced he wasn’t changing diapers anymore, so I decided I had to get serious this time and pulled out Robert and Teddy’s old potty video (you haven’t lived until you’ve caught yourself humming "she is a super-dooper pooper" in a staff meeting) and bought a cute little potty seat.
In a bad mommy moment, while trying to explain to Ollie why we use a potty (not a diaper, or a litter box like his friend Harry the Maine Coon Cat), I told him it was like Violet in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and that if you didn’t poop you would swell up like she did and explode. (I warned you it was a bad mommy moment). He asked about it a couple of times, and I explained it was just an analogy and that her problem had been gum, but that your body would get uncomfortable if you didn’t poop. I thought he had forgotten until he was proudly sitting on the big potty in the bathroom pooping and proudly informed me "I’m not going to blow up like Violet did!"
Thousands of dollars in therapy, right? All in all, I have to say that I’m happy that this stage in our lives is over!