The time has come for Lovely #1 to begin the sleepover.
One of the neighbor girls, who is a few years older, will be spending the night at our house this evening. I am not sure why I agreed to this…as there is Hannah Montana music blaring out of the living room and constant questions about food, drinks, etc, etc, etc.
I like the girl that is sleeping over. I like her just fine. She is a very nice girl, very polite, very inquisitive, and a nice role model for Lovely #1. Ah, let’s go back to that very inquisitive part. Since she is a little older, she seems to like asking me questions about things in our house, things that we do, pictures, furniture, food, Lovely #2, my relationship with my Knight (seriously, kid?), work, and anything else that pops into her brain.
She asked me how old Lovely #2 is. I said 2. Then, get this, she says, ‘isn’t it about time she starts potty training?’
Ummmm…yes, yes it is, however both her father and I have full time jobs and haven’t quite gotten to the point where we can be totally consistent on the potty training thingy. And, I would prefer to wait until she is not scared of her potty seat, thank you very much. Plus, we just moved into a new house with off white (dammit) carpeting in the living room. I do not own a Bissel, or Rug Doctor, and do not want to scrub pee stains and (heaven forbid) poo stains from the carpeting just yet. It hasn’t even gotten that lived in feeling…it still feels new. So why would I want to go and ruin it with piss all over the house? Just give me another week or two weeks…or a month. Then I’ll get around to it. I mean, I have a potty seat for her, and pull ups and actual underwear. I just need the motivation and signal from her to begin. Maybe the fact that she says the word potty isn’t a signal. It might just be that she likes to say it…not that she has to go.
I suppose she is right. It doesn’t help that her mother is a daycare provider and can probably potty train a kid in two days. I just don’t have that kind of time with them. I am lucky to see them for 4 hours. Wow…it really is only 4 hours from the time I pick them up to the time Lovely #2 heads to bed. I hadn’t realized that I spent that little time with them weekly. Eh, I suppose the weekend makes up for it. 48 hours solid of total mom love.
Back to the sleepover. I also now am fearing anything that I offer will not be good enough for this girl. Will she like spaghetti? Will she like the snacks? Will she be ok sleeping where we have arranged for her to sleep? Will she point out how dirty the kitchen is? Will she wake up in the middle of the night crying wanting to go home? Will she go home and tell her mom how awful a mom I am? Am I really paranoid about this?
Shit, she is like 9 years old. What does she know anyway? Nothing…she thinks Hannah Montana is real. Puh!