The Potty Blues

The time has come to see if we can make this potty thing happen for real. I cannot break the bank on diapers forever. LL used this plan to potty train her kid in TWO DAYS. I kid you not.
We started on Saturday. Here's a synopsis.

Day 1- Child pees in the toilet twice. Refuses to pee in the toilet seven times. Wets the bed during nap time. Pees on the couch. No poop.
Day 2- Child pees in the toilet four times. Refuses to pee in the toilet six times. Wets the bed during nap time. Pees in the stroller once. Poops herself. Nugget of poo rolls out of her pant leg onto the kitchen floor. Eats dirt (irrelevant). Learns that "an accident" is not a happy surprise we celebrate. Cries.
Day 3- Child pees herself twice within the breakfast hour. Again seems to think that an "accident" is a happy surprise. She will not be convinced otherwise. Pees in the toilet after I read her eight Elmo books. Fatigue sets in. I drop her off at LL's house.

Sorry guys, due to aforementioned perverts, there will be no more pictures of Ceci on her potty.

*UPDATE! Child pees herself twice in two hours at LL's house. Is now asleep in a diaper. I am open to suggestions! Is this child not ready?

Postpartum Buzz

Friends, I have so much to tell you and I don't even know where to begin. First off, here is an excellent part of my weekend I forgot to share-

It's true people, that is some fancy shit. Because I have highfalutin tastes in my imbibing, LL and I picked out this fabulous wine to drink once we were not knocked up. I slobbered over this bottle for months, and five months postpartum we finally got around to it. LL gets very little sleep these days, so it was somewhat miraculous she stayed awake for our entire happy hour wine session with Sam. We had wine, cheese, meats, wine, pate, and birthday cake! It was a dream come true.

A picture of LL, our husbands, and I on the very night I was impregnated. It's true. I think it was the heels.  

Also, I have one more day of work at Sucky Job. You would not believe the workplace drama that has unfolded in my last week. Both of the doctors I work with left town this week, so they called in a locum tenens. This locum doctor is also known as Dr. Pervy-Pants. Holy crap he is a dirty old man. The theme of the week is perverts for sure. One more day friends. God give me the strength to leave my sharp tongue and weaponry at home tomorrow and on Monday I will start a brand new job. 

On Avoiding Perverts In Swimwear

After my last post, it was gently brought to my attention that I would look quite boobylicious in this swimsuit.
I suppose this should have been obvious to me, since I've had a big old rack since my teen years. Since the baby came, they have truly become TERRIFYINGLY GIGANTOR (yes, that is the medical term). I have Godzilla boobs, and Godzilla is obviously a lady (As evidenced by the pregnancy induced RAGE and catfight with Mothra).
Anyway, sometimes when I am shopping online I completely forget to shop for my body type, and instead shop for what I wish my body type was. It is a dangerous and expensive habit.
I am not a fan of wearing swimsuits that showcase my chest. This is partially because I've had unpleasant encounters with masturbating exhibitionists, as well as with catty women who felt compelled to ask me if my cleavage is artificially enhanced. Lame and lame. I'd like to avoid any such future encounters.
It still bothers me that as a teenager I had some adult men expose themselves to me. This happened more than once on the beach. Ick. It's hard for me to separate these instances from my bikini, and from having larger breasts, because I really felt that they were pervert bait hanging right there in front of me.
That is a whole post in itself that I'll write another time. These incidents stopped when I grew into womanhood. Apparently as soon as I resembled an adult I lost my appeal for the creeps in my neighborhood.
There really are a lot of predatory men out there, and Ceci will be trained with a crossbow as soon as I can manage it.
Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest I can move on to swimsuits.
My very helpful friends threw some comments and suggestions my way.
K. suggested this one. Lovely. But I can imagine my boobs sneaking out the top.
A. from This House Gets Crazy at Three O'Clock mentioned this one.
And KJ thought I might want to be even MORE modest and go this route. I mean, if any perv tried to wag his johnson at me in this getup, I'm pretty sure God would smite him immediately.
Have a lovely weekend!