“Ari, are you awake?”

“The robot…I wanna watch the robot episode of Max and Ruby.”
“Are you awake or talking in your asleep?”
“Awake. Hungry.”
“Go to the potty.”
“No! Hungry first.” Ari rolls over on his side.
“Use the potty and then you can eat breakfast.”
“NO! Hungry.”
“Carry me.”
“Carry me to the potty.”
“Okay. Fine.”
I carry him to the bathroom. He pees. Flushes. Re-clothes. Washes hands, with help.
Samara starts crying. I pick her up.
“I peed on the potty, now I get cat cookies!”
“Okay, but only two.”
“NO! A lot!”
“Okay four. But then breakfast.”
“Okay…” Ari sighs.
“French toast.” I say definitively.
I make french toast and coffee while holding Samara, who is crying, on my hip.
“Is that my french toast?”
“Yes. It’s yours.”
“Is that mommy’s french toast?”
“I want chocolate milk.”
“No, french toast first.”
“NO! I want chocolate milk first. No french toast. I don’t want to eat.”
“You eat your breakfast, then you get chocolate milk.”
“Okay…” Ari sighs.
Samara is still whining. I nurse her while drinking coffee and eating french toast at the same time. Ari eats half his french toast and says:
“Now chocolate milk?”
“Okay, fine.” Thinking he ate a significant amount.
He downs the chocolate milk and just before he races out of the kitchen, I say
“Go to the potty. Then we’re going outside to the playground.”
He totally ignores me and makes a bee-line for his cars and trucks.
“Ari go to the potty. You need to go before we leave.”
He acts as if he can’t hear me. There’s not much I can physically do, because at the moment I’m nursing Samara.
All of a sudden Ari stops in his tracks and stares straight ahead, his face turning a bit pinkish.
“Are you pooping? Wait, wait! Go to the potty!”
“I pooped.”
“ARRRRRRGGG!!!!” I say and punch the couch as hard as I can.
“I need new underwear.”
“Ari,” I say trying not to rip my face off “Next time you have to poop, what do you do?”
“Go to the potty!” He says grinning ear to ear. The next thing that happens is that I am chasing him all over the apartment trying to catch him to change his soiled underwear.
A bath follows and we somehow miraculously we make it out the door to the playground.
I need a vacation. Anyone else?