I know my kid is only 3 but the instant urge he has to take a crap right then and there is still a bit beyond me.
Yesterday in the supermarket. I've got a full trolley.
Alfie: "mum, poo's coming out my bum."
Me: "ok, let's pay the lady and get you to a toilet."
Alfie; "it's coming out now. RIGHT NOW MUM. I can feel it!"
We abandon the trolley. The poo was coming out. I throw the Paw Patrol undies in the bin. I shouldn't have waited. It wasn't his fault. I just assumed he could hold it for 2 minutes and 48 seconds longer.
Today in the main street of Yarraville. Alfie starts riding his bike standing up.
Alfie: "mum. I need to do a poo."
Me: "ok, let's find a toilet. The pub's open."
As I rush towards the pub carrying his bike I turn around to see him doing a poo in a shopfront with a garden. I pick it up with a doggy bag and turf it in the bin. Let us never speak of this again.
I think I'm becoming a lot more patient as a parent. I can deal with things easier as they happen, I'm crap when it comes to planning.
And that's how I had a rad weekend.
We had our first open for inspection at our Yarraville house. Loads of attractive bearded men and chicks with patterned socks checking out our goods while we peeked at the house traffic from 50 metres down the street in the pissing rain. The three of us held hands while Cheef Dog weed on the neighbour's fence.
I was an anxious mess before it happened. The inspection was planned. There was lead up. There needed to be a result. There was waiting. Someone recently told me that having an open for inspection was like holding a massive party and not knowing if anyone would turn up.
Once it was over Alfie and I headed to the NGV with mates to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Today a random massive bike ride lead to hot chips in the park watching sprinklers turn on and off in places where 'ginger turtles' live. Splendid, rancho relaxo stuff.
Reg finishes up at work this week. That's a big milestone. Hopefully we lease out our Yarraville house this week. Another big milestone. Then we settle at our Trentham house on the seventh of November and from there... golly, who knows? We don't even have daycare let alone an inside toilet.
So in the meantime, I'm liking the 'winging it' theories of life at the moment. Going with the flow seems to be the only way we can get a grip on this tree-change.
I'm not saying that if you need to take a crap, just drop your dacks and do it in a shop front, but there's something to say about not over-thinking the big things in life and just letting them happen. Even if it is a poo.
Have a most excellent week.