A HUGE Milestone.

Not for the kids, but for me. I have many, totally irrational fears that cripple me at times. Flying, spiders, snakes, The Candy Man and tornadoes. My biggest fear of all is the dreaded porta potty.

To make a very long, expensive therapy session short...lets just say I would rather wet myself and then walk through a crowded football stadium, than use a porta potty.

After about five seconds in the car tonight Dylan informed us that she had to go potty. This was infuriating to me because I asked her multiple times before we left school if she had to go. She insisted that she did not.

When we arrived at the gas station we found that their restroom was "Out of Order." So we marched outside while she protested, "But mommy I really need to go potty." That's when out of the corner of my eye I see it calling my name. The dreaded portable toilet of death.

I walk back to the car and ask Bryan if he can take her to the porta potty. He refuses and tells me to just go, "You can do it." I shudder as I turn to walk to the blue monstrosity the next parking lot over. As Dylan and I are walking I brace myself for the urine/vomit/shit smell that is awaiting me. When we are just feet away from the toilet a rather large man slams the door shut to the porta potty.

"This is not going to be good," I'm thinking to myself. When finally we arrive at my Nemesis, I open the door and Dylan asks what it is. I fight trying to tell her how horrific and disgusting these things are and say, "It's a toilet." I helped her onto the toilet all the while keeping half my body outside the porta potty.

Yes that's right! I made my 4 year old daughter pee in a porta potty, in the middle of a parking lot, with the door wide open. All because I was scared to close the door and go inside. Either way I'm declaring today a victory for me!

Although, you still couldn't pay me to pee in one of those things.

One of Those Days.

No scratch that. It's been one of those WEEKS! I think I lost my children somewhere on the commute home on Monday and picked up their evil tantrum throwing doppelgangers instead.

The whole week has been a whirlwind of tantrums, hitting, screaming, crying and it's only WEDNESDAY! Last night we put Justin to bed at 5:30 because he was throwing the hugest tantrum. He didn't want to take a bath, so he hit me and threw/splashed water all over the bathroom. Then when it was time to get out of the bath he threw himself onto the ground and started kicking me.

Tonight it was Dylan's turn to throw a hissy fit and get put to bed at 6:30. She cried the whole way home pretty much and then when we got home she was a little witch to her brother. She wouldn't leave him alone and attacked him when he tried to stand up to her for being a bully.

I'm totally lost with this. I don't know what to do with them. It seems like the smallest thing will set either one of them into a tailspin. Then I get angry, start yelling and just end up completely frustrated. The majority of the time they are the sweetest kids, but their brat factor completely trumps all of their cuteness.

I guess it's a good thing we restocked the wine rack over the weekend...I'm really going to need it by the time this week is over.

Smart Kids.