Written by: Amanda Albers
Some of you may have seen this delightful picture I posted yesterday of my two-year-old helping me make spaghetti and meatballs. So cute, right? This is the same toddler who over the previous four hours had gone from fully potty trained to finding a different area of the house to pee in/on.
Potty training her was easier than I had ever thought it would be. She essentially did it herself. She woke up one morning, refused to put a diaper on and that was it. Now, a few weeks into wearing her favorite Mini-Mouse underwear, she is getting second thoughts. Yay for me! With a new baby on the way, this warn out 36 week pregnant mama couldn’t have been more happy.
After a long rainy day of being stuck inside, she had her fourth or fifth accident. Normally she would come tell me “I wet, mama”. And we would go through the routine of changing her. This time, as I am finishing the meatballs that she had helped me with, I hear the sound of little hands playfully pouncing in a puddle. As I pear around the corner I see her sitting in a puddle of pee slapping her hands around in it as if it was the best game on earth.
At this point I am about to give up and put a diaper on her. But we once again go through the motions of cleaning her up while I am trying my best to hide the frustration that is festering inside me. As she goes back to playing I found myself screaming in a pillow in a crazy George Constanza kind of way.
There I was back to finishing the meatballs. As I leaned over the counter to read the rest of the recipe I felt the strange feeling of a lot of liquid gushing from my body at one time. Then I thought, “OH S@#$, my water just broke.” As I run to the bath the gush starts to feel like I was peeing. Well huh. I was peeing. The baby had hit my bladder in such a way that Niagara Falls was impressed. Call it Karma, call it what you want. I call it God saying, “Everyone pees their pants, Amanda, Seeeeeee!” Ok God, I get it. Loud and clear.
As I went through the unfamiliar routine of cleaning myself up I realized what was being laid in front of me. Life. This is life. And being frustrated at the little things inhibits us from enjoying the little things. Five years from now I’ll be able to laugh with my daughter about how I found what appeared to be a fake pile of dog poop laying on the family room floor. Only to find out it was a very real pile of toddler poop. It’s hilarious to think about it now, even just a few days later.
What happens when we take a breath and think before we react? What happens when we move forward after finding the proverbial pile of dog poop without much thought of how its affecting us at the present time and just giving it a head nod and nothing more? Peace. Laughter. Hope. Unconditional Love. Compassion. And enjoyment of the little things.