
Yesterday, Clara and I enjoyed some time outside on the front lawn. Snacks, a blanket, and a pillow made it pretty perfect. (Minus the delightful mosquitoes. Clara informed me, "Spider crawling on your head!" (It was a mosquito, fortunately.) C'mon, insects! It's mid-October! Can't you lay off already? Sheesh.) Normally I feel very inhibited doing something like lying on a blanket in front of my street where people could see me, but I couldn't resist the beautiful weather. It was calling to me.

My view while lying down--I love cloudless skies like this one.

Soaking up the breeze and sunshine.
When Michael came home, we got to spend some family time together (an uncommon treat these days with his busy schedule). Clara loves the tree swing that Michael hung in our backyard. She especially loves going super-high. These "underdogs" remind me of my childhood. My dad made me an amazing tree swing, and I absolutely
loved it. It was a really long swing, and I loved sitting out on it, having him push me, or just being by myself. (And I'm not talking about when I was a little kid--I think he made the swing for me when I was eleven years old at least.)
In less than idyllic news, Clara had a rough morning at school yesterday. She has been doing very well there, but then I got a call from her special ed teacher, Ms. Darby, telling me of some of Clara's behavior at school that day--nothing too horrific, but lots of "No!" "Go away!" and she hit another little girl and threw a dinosaur. (Okay, I guess "horrific" is relative, isn't it? That's probably very horrific to some of you.) I was mortified but appreciative that she called. Part of the problem was my letting her go when she still had the vestiges of a cold (shame on me!). Another part of the problem is that she is getting so comfortable there that she is testing limits and becoming more defiant (read: showing a few true colors). She also asked me how potty training was going. The conversation went something like this:
DARBY: So, how's potty training going?
ME: Potty training? What's potty training?
DARBY: Well, you know that Clara will have to learn to use the toilet eventually.
ME: Nah. Diapers are working just fine for me.
DARBY: What about when she grows up and starts school?
ME: Hey, they make big-kid sizes, right?
Okay, the conversation went nothing like that. But the reality is, I am seriously dreading the prospect of potty training. Clara is, as Ms. Darby put it, "strong willed" (read: she doesn't do things unless she wants to and it is
difficult to make her do them otherwise. Although, in Clara's defense, she is doing much better in this area as she begins to understand privilege withholding, etc.). I am dreading the messes and the frustration, and the absolute lack of confidence I feel in this area (combined with Clara's sensory/focus/coordination/defiance challenges) just makes me not even want to try.
Don't get me wrong, she sits on the potty sometimes. She loves her underwear (NO, I'm not going to use the "p" word!). She likes the idea of going. But she hasn't gotten the whole "pee goes
in the potty" thing. I have read books, talked to people, watched DVDs, etc. What it comes down to is my actually doing it. Committing to it. And I don't want to commit to it! More than any other challenge I've experienced in raising Clara, I want someone else to do this for me. So, if anyone is volunteering to come and live with me for a few weeks (or months, as needed) and potty train my daughter, I invite you gladly. I'll even pay you. (In big wet kisses, that is. Or ice cream. Whatever floats your boat.)