(clearing my throat. Ahem!)
ROSEY WENT ALL DAY IN PANTIES AND ONLY WET HERSELF TWICE. TWICE. THAT'S TWO. T-W-O.
Holy God, this just might work.*
And today we took the kids to see their Papa, who's been in the hospital for almost two weeks (and who scarily we weren't at all sure would still be around now) and it was magical, watching the kids' faces smile and their grandfathers face light up when he heard their boots come clomping in. Rosey and Papa played peek-a-boo through the bedrails. Cass's grin was so big that he wore delight like an accessory, and for a few minutes he wasn't sure what to say. He recovered enough to pepper his grandfather with questions about every.single.piece of medical equipment in the room, including the commode ('What's the wheely chair, Papa?' And from the other side of the room came R's voice, sure of herself.. 'Is Papa's potty.') and all the buttons on the hospital bed. By the time we left Papa was laughing and joking with the kids and Cass looked a lot less strained than he has lately. (Wednesday he broke into sobs at the dinner table, choking out that he was afraid he was never going to see my father-in-law again. Two weeks is a long time for a boy to be sad and scared.)
I made Kim's tomatoes (amazingly good with even the hothouse crap the store had) one of Badger's roasts (and I can't find it exactly and I think she used brisket but you should go read some of her recipes) fresh corn on the cob (it must be summer somewhere, right?) and salad - and Cass ate it all (including the green leafy stuff! Who knew bright orange dressing could make a kid do things like this??) And there weren't ANY leftovers.
So! Happy day! No pee! Papa Lazarus! Yummy food! Good night!
*I go pee now. And off she'd run, shedding pants, underwear and socks as she headed for the bathroom. Because apparently the most satisfying urination takes place in bare feet. Who knew?