The joys of having a child who is potty trained.

Josh isn't feeling well, which is a real bummer. I hate it when Josh is sick because he does so much for our family. And, when he's sick I really miss his humor and child rearing support. This morning we all headed out by 9:30, so that Josh could have some beach time before the men's USA/Argentina basketball game. Michael and I decided to head down the beach for a walk while Josh was resting on the blanket. Unfortunately, we didn't make it back from the walk in time to give Josh a get well hug and kiss before he headed back to the house.

Michael and I made the best of our time on the beach together, though. We decided to dig a hole for his trucks and cars, and we had a lovely little snack on the blanket. I was a rotten mom and let Michael drink a little bottle of gatorade (at least it wasn't Coke!) during our snack. Obviously, I did not consider the repercussions of letting Michael drink an entire bottle of gatorade. The result of the gatorade, was that the poor kid had to pee about a half an hour later. At this point, I wasn't ready to head back to the house or to make the trek to the swimming pool. So, I told him he would have to go in the ocean. He said in an excited and joyous tone, "OKAY, MOM!!!" And, then started to pull down his pants. (Not good.) So, I glanced around and carried him over to the sand dunes, where things were a little less obvious. Michael loves to urinate outside, so he was totally happy with this proposition! Wouldn't you know it, another twenty minutes pass by and he has to pee again! I thought he was bluffing, so I made him pack up all of his beach toys. He said he still had to go, so we headed right back to the dunes. : ) And, he really did have to go, poor little guy.

After we got all packed up, Michael and I carried (actually, I carried) our entire beach camp back to the golf cart. What a load that was! The entire time I was thinking, you know...when I was pregnant with my first no one would let me carry as much as a laundry basket of clothes. The second time around: I'm carrying three beach chairs, a cooler, a bag of beach toys, a bag of towels, and making sure that the three year old is following me. Things CHANGE for the second pregnancy, don't they? : ) I'm not complaining, in fact I'd much rather be a pack mule than a fragile little doll, any day. Honestly, I would. It's just funny how things change, isn't it? I wonder what life will be like when I'm pregnant with our fifth or sixth baby?

I shudder to think about such things...