Daily Archives: October 16, 2008

A familiar sound echoed across our hardwood floors: a hurried pitter-patter followed by the distinct clink of a toilet lid. I listened. Silence. That’s never a good sign. I ran to the bathroom to find everything right – the child in the right room, the potty seat in place, the lid raised, the shower curtain still closed – except my son who was frozen solid and peeing freely on the floor. I pulled down his pants and tried to seat him, but Zach was too upset.

“Buddy, can you stop peeing?” The answer was obvious as the stream continued to arc in every direction but the still waters of the porcelain throne. I tried to stand my guy in front of the urinal (which, by the way, has found a permanent home in the bathroom rather than the living room. HGTV never featured my trend!), but it was too late.

”There’s no more pee-pee, Mommy.” Dejected and frustrated, he surrendered defeat.

”It’s okay, honey. We’ll just try to get to the bathroom sooner next time.”

My heart broke for the little guy. He was trying so hard, but he just couldn’t stop. How do I teach that?

The better question is: how do I learn that?

Whenever I get in “the zone,” I can’t stop. I may physically stop, but my mind is still going full speed ahead in whatever direction that may be. Yes, I am physically with my kids and I’m trying to be there mentally as well, but where am I really? I’m thinking about all the housework that needs to be done or mentally listing the people I need to call. I look like I’m sipping Earl Grey, but truly I’m writing. I’m trying to catalog the edits I need to make or memorize the perfect word for that troublesome paragraph, which unfortunately only pops into my head between the first and second courses of a princess tea party.

And I’m a terrible actress. Either that or my kids are mind-readers. They know when I’m not “present.” Ellie has banned books from her tea parties. She and Zach both have built a sort of sibling rivalry with Ruthie, my laptop. Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have named my computer, but she tends to go with me wherever I go and it just seemed like an appropriate name for her. They know when I’m zoning and they like it just as much as I do urine on the floor.

So, here’s the question: how do I stop? I want to be with my kids and I want them to know I’m there, but sometimes my brain simply refuses to engage in playing. No offense to dolls and trains, but it’s hard for a thirty-something mama to get into those games sometimes. Any suggestions?

Photo by Vicky Herrala.