Have you ever been a full grown woman trying to teach a two-year-old boy to pee standing up? I’ve survived the potty training of several nephews and a few friends’ children, and it always seems to go the same way.
“But why?” the short dude asks after I’ve told him to aim for the middle. He giggles. He waives his equipment around, testing his ready-aim-fire skills and hitting the wall more often than the potty. “This is funner!” he’ll eventually announce, grinning proudly as he figures out he can hit the mirror if he stands on the toothbrushing stool.
Upon having this conversation with one such little guy this evening, I’ve decided I don’t have a good enough answer. Telling a toddler to aim for the bowl so there won’t be such a big mess to clean up later is silly. After all, he’s too short to hold a mop; I’m the one stuck cleaning up the mess. And really, I don’t mind, because tomorrow I’ll send him home to his mother.
I am not good at aiming for the middle. I don’t have boy parts, but I’ve never been the kind of girl to let that particular lack stop me from trying to pee standing up. I can very clearly remember being two years old, my various family members gathered around me and the potty explaining why girls have to sit. I laugh just remembering it.
As a freelancer, a business owner, a blogger, an OCD nutjob with ADD tendencies, I’m not much better at the whole middle thing. For weeks on end I aim to please-please-please 12 hours a day, sometimes more, and spend 2-4 hours wishing I was two again. At some point I sleep, eat, and go potty. Then I crash. I point my metaphorical penis at the wall and think “Yeah! This IS way funner!” I digress into blow-off-everything-I-can chick. Then eventually I get back at it and become the me I consider to be the one in charge of pretending to be a responsible adult. What I do works for me — as in, I’m functional for the most part, and my bills are paid — but at the same time I have my moments of wishing I could be like all those lovely composed folks who do all things in moderation.
There should be a middle. I’ve tried hard to find it, with fabulous aim. I’ve read books, seen therapists, been drugged, taken e-cources, gotten hypnotized. In August I’m seeing a life coach. For now, I’m trying very hard to accept that I’m simply a better juggler than balance-beam-walker.
But I’m curious, how do you all find your balance? What is the middle you aim for?
