Do you wanna potty? It's potty time!

Ah, the joys and frustrations of stay-at-home-daddyhood. Dylan, my two year old, is in the potty training "zone," & has nearly mastered the art of the #1. He is very proud of his big boy underpants, (or "underboy pants" in Dilly-speak) and very conscious about wetting them. #2, however, seems to be an entirely different ballgame. One successful poop in the potty & one odd incident behind our bedroom door. (Not sure what that was about.)

I'm not sure how centuries of housewives managed to balance housework, child care and maintaining their sanity. (I hear huffing oven cleaner helps with that last one.) It took me almost half an hour to sweep the kitchen floor today, a process involving considerable distraction, diversion and breaks to soothe the fussy baby. Plus I had to try to explain to Dylan why the Cheerios I swept out from under the table where no longer edible.

As I type this, it's now 2:30- waaay past nap time. Lily is usually fairly easy to get to sleep; lay down in bed with her and hold a bottle for about ten minutes. Dylan, however, will not sleep until he collapses from sheer exhaustion. (Maybe I should get a large rubber mallet.) And, of course, he is disinclined to play quietly while I'm trying to get Lily down. She got in about twenty solid minutes of shut-eye before Dylan's attempts to create new percussion instruments from various items in our bedroom finally managed to wake her up. Now I'm dealing with an extremely cranky baby & a toddler who will finally crash out at about 4:00, sleep until Lea gets home sometime after 6, and then not want to go to bed tonight. Good thing I don't need to sleep.

By the way, last night was the first time Dylan ever walked in on Lea & I as we were "practicing in case we ever want to make another baby." He thought it was hilarious, ("You guys are naked!") but I can see him reliving the moment in nightmares. Thirty years from now, he'll either be in therapy or up on a clocktower somewhere.

Gotta go. Diaper time. Despite my complaints, I have to admit it beats working for a living.