It's Potty Time!

Congratulations to Ava. She's a big girl now.

Three, count 'em, THREE mornings in a row she has awakened with a dry diaper! She has consistently been doing both of her, ahem, jobs on the big girl potty. She has a little toilet seat that fits right on the commode. When she's "All done!" she knows to flush the toilet.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT???

Granted, she has to be reminded. Often. It's funny to watch, because Laura is very dramatic and enthusiastic when she asks Ava to use the bathroom.

Ava, do you want to use the big girl potty?! You do??
Let's go! Oh,my goodness! You are such a big girl! Oh, my goodness, I am so proud! Yeah, Ava! *clap*clap*clap*

Heck, I wanted to sit on the big girl pot myself!

Being a grandma, I had to run right out and buy some big girl undies. Dora the Explorer, size 2T. Cutest things I ever saw. I presented them to her in a pretty gift bag with pink tissue paper. She, of course, tossed the paper to the floor, ignored the panties, and assumed the bag was her new purse--which she promptly hoisted onto her shoulder just like the big girls. All this while sporting wet hair because she had just dipped her head into the toilet. Thankfully, the water was clean!

By the way, all of this has been accomplished by using some tricks supplied by Laura's sister, Liz, who works at a preschool/daycare. One strategy is to only change her diaper while she is standing, so that she gets used to the idea that she can no longer be passive about toileting. Interesting, huh? They also suggest putting their pretty undies right over the top of the diaper. Whatever the method, it seems to be working. I'm so proud of her!

Ugly

I spent Sunday evening at the funeral home. My stepbrother's son died Friday. He was 38 years old--younger than I am. Lung cancer.

My stepbrother and his wife put on brave faces and performed the required meet and greet. They hugged and kissed, shook hands, and asked the appropriate questions. How are the kids? How's your mom doing?

When it was my turn to go through the line my stepbrother hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, "Isn't this ugly?"

Oh, yes, it truly is ugly. It's ugly that a kind, loving young man should be taken away from those who love him. It's ugly that people feel so much despair that they are driven to take their own lives. It's ugly that our children and grandchildren are born with a syndrome that erases so many hopes and dreams. It's ugly that those same children and their parents face discrimination so often, and in so many ways. It's an ugly that can't be viewed head on, but rather by peeking cautiously through the spaces between your fingers.

Life empties us, little by little. Who can stand it?

This has not been a good summer. I have been stuck, stagnant, and apathetic. Basically, I've been mired in a depression so deep that I can't seem to get out. This isn't anything new, it's just taking much longer to resolve itself. I take medicine, I'm pretty self-aware, yet the depression persists. I find myself avoiding social situations, neglecting to return phone calls, and basically hiding in my house every chance I get. Even weekends don't help; I sleep literally all day on Saturday, nap on Sunday, and drag myself back to work on Monday. I will be seeing my doctor September 2, and I am hoping that some good will come of that visit. I don't like to complain in such a public venue, but I just wanted you all to know that I haven't forgotten any of you. I truly want to post on this blog and read all of yours. I just don't have the energy most days.

Let me give you a quick update on Ava. Hold onto your hats!

In the past couple of months Miss Ava accomplished the following amazing feats:

• Graduated from the G-tube and eats like a horse. She weighs 25 lbs.
• Went "Number One" on the the potty--two times!
• Learned a gazillion new words.
• Developed a temper the likes of which has never been seen this side of
  hell
• Learned to swim, kind of, with a dog-paddling stroke so long as
  someone supports her under the tummy.
• Climbed on a jungle gym.
• Learned torture skills that would make a Nazi proud--biting, scratching,
  slapping, screaming, and NO! Said skills are usually performed on people she
  loves, especially her mommy. Go figure.
• Followed by, "Hi, Mama! How you?"

To top it all off, our camera is broken. I am hoping that Laura will share her photos (hint) with me soon so I can post them.

Have a great day!