Don't Cry Over Stained Chonies

Pride comes before the fall. It seems like that is a phrase I use often on this blog. Just when I thought we had conquered potty training we have a major hiccup.

My kids are scheduled kids. I know many people feel very strongly against scheduling but me, well, if my kids were not scheduled I'd be in a mental hospital or in a bar. So, scheduling and strict routine works for our family. The problem is that when the routine gets thrown off, everything gets thrown off. This week Bup was sick and so on Tuesday I had to take the kids to daycare at work. I prayed for Noah to go poop before we let the house, and thank God he did. I was so happy to have his daily poop out of the way before he went to daycare...little did I know that even his poop schedule would be thrown off that day (he pooped a total of FOUR times that day). The morning was chaotic but I finally get them dropped off after telling Noah one million and two times to, "Tell the teacher if you need to go potty. If you go potty in your chonies mommy will have to throw them away."

I worried all morning about them because they were not in their normal environment and I counted down the minutes until Ricky would pick them up. Finally at around 12:45 Ricky came to my work to pick the kids up. We went together to go get them and when we got to the room my stomach dropped. Noah was on the changing table being changed. He doesn't need to be changed anymore. He is potty trained. Noah looked back at me with those big brown eyes and began to cry. "He had an accident," the sweet daycare lady said. Awwww man! It's all my fault. It is because he wasn't in his normal environment. I should have just taken the day off. What a horrible mother. Now he is embarrassed and upset and it's all my fault. Then, in between sobs he says, "You'll wash 'em mommy?" Oh SHOOT! What to do? Do I stick to my guns and throw his favorite chonies away like I said I would or do I just wash the nasty things?...I've got to stick to my guns or he is going to think it's okay to poop in his chonies. "No, buddy," I say, "Mommy has to throw them away because you pooped in them and they are ruined." He cries harder, my heart breaks. We finish cleaning him up, he asks 12 times where his chonies are and begs me not to throw them away. I feel like a horrible mom as I throw the poop chunked beloved Thomas chonies in the trash. He screams and cries. He leaves with Ricky.

I go to the cafe to eat lunch and I feel my eyes getting warm and filling with tears. You cannot cry. Hold yourself together. What are you going to tell people if they ask why you're crying? How silly will you look if you tell them that your sobbing over throwing away Thomas the Train poop chunked chonies? They won't even know what "chonies" are! Suck it up.

It took everything within me that day not to cry for the rest of the day. It was a mixture of mom guilt and grieving over lost favorite Thomas the Train chonies. I may have to write an ode to the famous chonies because the loss was just so devastating.

On a positive note, Noah is back on his routine today...even his poop routine. No accidents, no thrown away chonies. All is right with the world again.