Mathematical Mama

Potty training, that is. A week and a half ago I was fed up. Completely done with changing diapers on both of my children, when one was so obviously old enough to not still be in them. Let me back up. I like to think that I'm a pretty patient person, all things considered. I love my kids and I don't lose my cool very often. But even the thought of beginning the whole potty training process terrified me. No wonder JP was so tense about the whole thing. I was dreading cleaning up messes on the floor and, I was convinced, on the walls, in the carpet and on every toy in the toy box. I had horrific visions of him going Picasso on the living room walls with excrement. And forget about going anywhere, whether it be visiting relatives or grocery shopping. I had heard horror stories of children still peeing everywhere after weeks, nay, months of rigorous trips to the potty every 30 minutes without success. We were starting to make some real progress until my daughter was born...

My grandfather passed away while I was sitting next to him. It's taken me over a month to type more than that sentence. I've needed time. Not necessarily to grieve, tho I'm sure that has worked it's way in too. Just time. Time to wrap my head around the reality of the situation. My grandfather hasn't been himself in a great long while. Over 6 years to be exact. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 2005, right after he turned 70. His decline was quick all things being relative. It didn't take long for him to stop recognizing me as his granddaughter. He would come up to me and say things like "That M, she is such a good sister! She is so good with her sisters and brother." At the time, I didn't realize I should correct him. So, when I should have said "Grandpa, I am M" I said "Yeah she is!" It felt good to know that he still remembered me, even though he no longer recognized me. I miss the man he was. The man th...