The crack in the door.

I'm struggling with time lately.  How I spend my time at work and at home, time for myself, my relationships.  Just time.  There's never enough of it, and when there is, time it goes by in the blink of an eye.   I could tell you that Madison is six going on sixteen and you'll believe me, but I can also tell you that she just graduated Kindergarten and you'll believe me.   Both statements are true.  One however was 63 days ago and I swear it was last week.  Her graduation certificate is still hanging on the fridge, the thought of Grade 1 looming so far in the future I couldn't imagine it.  And now there's 14 days until school starts.  My email is blowing up with Back-to-School sales and things I need to to order before September.  What I don't think is helping me that at work we are always planning one or two weeks in advance, so my brain is always ahead of where we actually are.  I don't have any way around that, but I know that a part of working through this is being more present in the moments.  Putting my phone down, or my issues aside and focusing on what's happening.  I found myself just the other day wishing time could just stay the hell still.  Kind of like how I yell at my kids at dinner time.  Just STAY PUT!

A normal Thursday off for me is always packed with errands and/or cleaning the house.  This Thursday was Madison's dentist appointment.  We don't get a lot of alone time with each other, so I took the opportunity to take her out for breakfast before her appointment.  Yes, I realize how contradictory that is, don't we all eat first on the day of the appointment then brush and floss like a maniac hoping to cover 6 months of slacking, then not eat again until after?  No, just me?  Liars.  We order our food and sit down to wait for it to be delivered.  She thinks it's fun to get her own napkins and condiments (A&W for the breakfast win!) and learns what the little white ketchup cups are all about.   We chat about random, innocent things as one does with a six year old.  Why is there a fly in here? Who are the boy and girl in the A&W images?  My toast is too soft to eat.  She's a bit all over the place and starting to get squirmy in the booth.  I hurry up and get us across to the office, check in and find two seats.  The random banter continues for a few minutes until the hygienist calls her name.  She stands right up, says hello and is ready to roll.  (Thank God for giving me one child that loves the dentist as much as I do... Ellie... well she's a different story).  The hygienist and I chat for a minute about how she's doing, any concerns and then she says "alright, I'll call you in when the doctor is ready to chat with you, come on Madison".  I sat there a bit stunned honestly, frozen in time.  I wanted to call after her "But, she's only 6!!  I'm her mom!  I need to be with her!!".  They are around the corner before I can utter a word and sit back in my chair.  I take a breath and ponder what just happened.  She's six, six and a half she might tell you, and she's a big kid now.  I am not required to be in the room, she can answer the questions on her own, she needs to learn how to do things as a big kid, I have to learn to distance myself and be proud of her.   

Instead I text my mom:

So you know how I will sporadically be sad about maddy growing up over the last 6 years.?   Well today I brought her to the dentist , and she gets to go in all by herself!   Like, I wasnt even invited !  Just any concerns mom ?  Nope. Off they go 😭😭

Mom replies: omg that's funny.

Funny for her because she's listened to me, and read about, me raising two girls.  Funny because she went through it with her own three kids.  Funny because I am frequently questioning  how these crib midgets got so big.   Damn, I can't even say that anymore, no one is in a crib.  They're both in full size beds.  Fifty percent of them can wipe their own asses.  They're both big kids now.  

So grade one starts in two weeks.  She says she's scared and doesn't want to leave kindergarten.  I don't think that I've figured out the actual correct response in this case.  I've said "no way, you're ready!".  And "it's going to be so much fun!".  But I don't know if she believes me.  The excitement and anticipation we had last year going into kinder was palpable.  We were ready two months before.  This time I'm stalling.  Stalling for more time, stalling because I can't figure out why she doesn't want to go.   Stalling so that she'll come running to me to feel her wiggly teeth, and help her put on blush and lipstick on her "fancy" days at summer camp.  She is so innocent and naive, she's still very six at heart.  But damned if this girl isn't trying to grow up.  The dichotomy of being young and growing up.   They don't write this in the parenting books.  No one tells you that you'll argue with a miniature version of yourself at 745 am to brush her goddamn teeth when the school bell is about to ring.  They don't tell you that at 745pm your very tired six year old wants to practice her reading and digs out a long book to limp though while yawning (both of you that is).   They don't tell you that you will cherish those moments and you'll have forgotten about the morning fight.  They don't tell you the time you spent yelling in the morning has been replaced with helping sound out three clapper words.  Ahem, sorry,  three syllable words :).

What inevitably happens when the first kid grows up is that the second one follows suit, and usually in a quicker fashion.  Miss Ellie is a bubbly, happy kid.  Full of energy and cuddles.  And by energy I mean she wakes up between 620 and 630 am.  Every single day.  We have worked the last two weeks to drop her afternoon nap, and it doesn't matter if she goes to sleep at 730pm or 930pm, she's up at the ass crack of dawn and ready to go.  I hear her door open and then shut, not sure why she does that, and then eight seconds later I feel her warm hand slap my arm/face/leg.  Any exposed skin is fair game to her.   I'll lift her in to bed and curse the time.  I eventually get out of bed and find her a sippy cup of juice and dry cereal while I half-sleep on the couch listening to Peppa Pig.  But then she starts talking.  And she doesn't stop.  Her vocabulary is outstanding and her comprehension is great for her age.  She can tell you a full story about her day at daycare, what she did, what friend she played with or how much lunch she ate.  But her new development is her excitement to go pee on the potty!  

About a month ago she had sat on her potty and let out the smallest of tinkles filling the tiny bowl with enough pee to warrant a celebration dance from mommy and Madison and a treat.  We tried again for a stretch of a few days and when she would emphatically tell me 'no, I don't have to pee',  I learned to trust her and put the potty aside.  I shared with a close friend what she had done and she explained that her daughter did the same thing, liked it on and off for a few months and would not really catch on.  But then one night it did.   I had taken them out of the bathtub and let Ellie run around with no pants on as we finished the bedtime routine.  All of a sudden she looks at me, standing on my carpeted bedroom floor and goes, "I'm peeing!".  Sure as shit, she's dribbled down her leg and on to the carpet.  I jump up and run to find the little green Ikea potty and promptly sit her down.   She looks at me, looks down in the bowl, looks around the room but stands up.  Nope, doesn't have to go.  Well kid, let's just try one more time.  I think the hardest part about potty training is just getting her to sit still for a damn minute!  She begrudgingly sits down and after a few seconds, she pees!  Yay Ellie!!  Here is a treat for being a big girl and let's keep trying tomorrow.   You'd think she was a different kid the next day because she has no interest in the toilet. :/. Back to square one I think to myself.   The next night was bath-time and I pile both kids into the tub.  Madison, as she has since she was a toddler, gets in the tub then realizes she has to pee and gets out.  Soapy ass on the toilet seat, freezing cold, but won't ever consider peeing before she gets in the water.  One day she'll figure it out I assume?  Ellie though, watches everything her big sister does.  And doesn't this kid look at me and yell "Mommy!" while pointing to the toilet.  I ask her if she has to pee and she nods her head.  Well, out we go kid, soapy butt cheeks are slipping around and I'm squatting in front holding her up.  She looks down, giggles and lets it go!   YES ELLIE!!!  She is so proud of herself, joins her sister back in the tub and we wash up.  I can see the future and the past at the same time.  I am excited to ditch the diapers, but I am dreading the constant bathroom trips (malls, car rides, restaurants) that all come flooding back to me from when we trained Maddy.  We dry off, I leave the pants off the little child and go on with the night routine.  I am shocked when she tells me she has to poop, and she goes to the green potty.  We fuss around on there for 45 minutes... yup, 45 minutes of up, down, toots, and giggles.  And then, she does it!  She claps for herself, Maddy and I dance around clapping and screaming with excitement.  She is growing up.   Time needs to stop.  She gets a treat, and a nighttime diaper, because we have progress, not perfection, I'm not stupid. LOL.  I don't want to change wet sheets at three am. 

A few nights pass, no potty luck at home, but lots of talk about it. She knows, and we know she is capable, so now we focus on big girl encouragement.  But where I wasn't planning on it was when we were out in public.  I should probably read back in this blog to when Madison learned to go, because I am almost 100% positive that the ladies washroom at the Boston Pizza by our house was instrumental in potty training Maddy.   And because Ellie does what Maddy does....

"Mommy I have to pee!" We have all just got settled at the table, drinks are on the way, I'm tired after a long day at work, I just want to drink my beer and talk to my husband.  Ugh.

"Ok!  Come on baby, let's go!" We hurry to the washroom and she decides that it's more up her alley to wash her hands, so I guess we will try again later.  And by later I mean like six minutes.  "Mommy, I have to pee!".  This was really when the flashbacks kicked in.  I recall three years ago getting up from every meal, no matter where,  to run a three year old to a toilet.  But this Boston Pizza hits home.  I open the stall door and Ellie and I go in together.  I have deja vu as I help Ellie pull down her shorts and lift her on to the toilet.  I watch for a second, she's trying to get the toilet paper already, I'm trying to hurry us up to get back to the table.  So very loudly she tells me "mommy, go away."  I look at her, perplexed, and say "uhhh no, you need me.  How about I stand over here in the corner?"  "No mama.  Go out".  She gets off the toilet, unlocks the door and ushers me out of the stall.  She says with a hand up in the air "you stay there, I can do it by myself".  She locked the door.   Well then. 

I find myself standing outside the stall, holding it shut with my left hand up top, because even though we're alone and she locked the door, this felt like the right mom thing to do.  What the fuck else was I going to do?  I hear her climb back up and get settled, I hear her giggle, and I hear the tinkle.  But what she doesn't know is that I can see her.  Through the crack in the door I watch my 2.5 year old go to the bathroom all by herself.  I pump my right arm up and down in the air and jump up and down, stage-whispering "YES! YES! YES, ELLIE!"  I am sure another mom is about to walk into this washroom party, but I have no shame.  More than one tear comes to my eye (just like as I write this) because I am so damn proud of her.  She got off the potty, wiped herself and unlocked the door.  I have to help her up on the counter to wash her hands.  She soaps, rinses, gets the paper towel and throws it out by herself.

Time. Needs. To. Stop.  

She hurries back to the table and yells to the other families in earshot "Daddy, I PEEEEEED!"   Laughter comes from the other diners and praise at the table from Daddy and Madison.   Mommy is still wiping tears from her eyes.  

Of course you can have ice cream for dessert with gummy worms on top! 

I will always be there for anything you're learning girls.  Whether it's going to the dentist chair by yourself, or the Boston Pizza bathroom, I'll be here.  I'll be watching through the crack in the door, but I'm here.