Do Not Adjust Your Reception

So.. I lost 7 pounds.

Okay, not in a good way... more in a "so sick and full of mucus that I couldn't eat for about a week" kind of way, but screw it.. the jeans fit better either way. I'll take what I can get.

Potty training continues... we've moved from total nudity to the "underpants only" segment of our program today. Since I put him in the underpants at around noon, Jack has not had an accident. Then again, he hasn't gone to the potty yet, either. Can't declare it a win until he actually pulls the elmo-underoos down and does his business, so the wait continues. I know, I know.. you're dying of anticipation, just ITCHING to hear more about my sons excrementory exploits. But that, my friend, is because you are either (a) sick and demented or (b) a parent who has gone through this and is taking cruel pleasure in my pain. (*insert your pointing and laughing here*)

In other news, my body is finally recovering from this evil hoodoo virus that overtook it nearly a week ago and, other than coughing up things that I am sure will give me nightmares in the days to come, I am feeling almost okay this afternoon.

Toby finally pooped. Daddy got to change it. Some higher deity really MUST love me! I even managed to get a hot shower AND a shot of brandy in my herbal tea, which loosened up my chest long enough for me to fall asleep on Wednesday night. (Mom, if you are reading this, it was totally medicinal. Like NyQuil... only much more satisfying...and with a much higher likelyhood that I'll wake up with someone else's underwear and a bunch of one dollar bills...)

SO today finds us gearing up for an adventure this afternoon. First to HairCuttery to shear off Jack's unruly mop of hair that is starting to make him look undeniably feminine...Then to WalMart so he can pick out a new pack of underoos in the Licensed Character of his choice. Whatever it takes, folks. There is almost nothing I won't do to get the child to use the commode. Seriously.

In fact, when we told him he could basically pick any reward he wants for getting TOTALLY potty trained.. and he picked... a puppy... I even managed to control the tide of overwhelming panic. Only my twitchy eye gave me away. But what can ya do???