Process of Elimination

Coco’s on the potty. Lucinda’s on the radio. Life is good.

Ah, the joys of potty training. Still a drag, but I must admit, compared with my last experience, this has been a piece of cake. All it really took was a six pack of Hello Kitty underpants to get things rolling. Now she’s ditched the dipes and is not looking back.

With Hank, it was more of a long, hard slog. He got the concept, but just couldn’t be bothered. He was averse to anything that might get in the way of whatever activity he was engaged in. Playing with trucks with poop in his underwear was just not a problem. Anyway, we’ve been fine for some time now, thank goodness. And now I’m on to the second and final round.

I’m surprised at how effortless it’s been with the little girl. Not that the process is ever totally stress-free. One is constantly on the lookout for public toilets, and must be ready to drop everything when nature calls. There’s nothing like having your kid tell you he has to poop when there are no facilities in sight or when driving on an interstate. The other thing that gets me is that everything seems to take so long. Patience, unfortunately, is not a parenting virtue I’m blessed with. (Hmmm…I wonder what, if any, are my positive qualities as a parent? I have a pretty good grasp of the English language-does that count?). I’ve been spending a lot of time lately sitting on the tub while Coco does her thing, asking “Are you done sweetie?” every few minutes. The other day it was particularly excruciating because I really had to pee myself. I’ve long thought that being a parent of young kids is all about catering to their bodily functions while denying your own. Oh and Co, like her brother in the early days, was pretty quick to pick up on the trick of using bathroom stuff as a way to delay bedtime. I’m always a sucker for that one…I know exactly what she’s doing but don’t want her to feel pressured. Half and hour later….

Anyway, really, the hang-ups have been minimal, and the end is in sight. I’m looking forward to burning the diaper bag.

PS: Lucinda, I’m still a fan even though I haven’t been really crazy about anything since Essence. Whenever I listen to this stuff, I can’t help getting a little nostalgic for those freewheeling NYC days at the turn of the millennium when I got to go to the bathroom by myself every time. Good times, but plenty of heartache, too. Anyway, I’m (obviously) on another plane these days, but I’d still want Car Wheels on a desert island.