My first novel deals with aliens and time travel. Now I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “But Miranda, how does that relate to toddlers?”

Oh, my fine friend let me tell you all about it. So I was telling someone a bit about the aliens in my novel over the weekend. That is, in-between cleaning up toddler piss. Let me explain…

Luke is three and a lazy boy who tells me daily “No auntie, I don’t want panties. I wear diaper.” Leia, on the other hand, is two and will pull her diaper off at nap time, piss all over the bedding, stuffed animals, and books because “I don’t want diaper, I wear panties.”

Needless to say, this weekend was spent working on potty training. Hell, I tell you. Hell! Leia went through six pairs of panties before we got the timing just right and she peed in the toilet. The trickling noise scared her into stopping midstream; either that or it was my sudden burst of cheer and clapping. This, of course, assured one more accident before the day was through.

I found myself at one point wondering what life on other planets is like. Do they spend hours, days, weeks potty training their young, walking behind them cleaning the piss out of carpet? Or do they know how to use the seashells? How primitive I feel at this moment.

I feel this weird need to give my appreciation to every parent who has potty trained in the past, what a feat you have accomplished. Seriously take a moment and buy yourself something pretty because dude, that shit (pun intended) is no joke! But let’s be honest for a moment. Did it take you a week? Two? Three? I don’t care who you are, if you tell me that you potty trained your kid in three days I know your lying. And to those of you who would be so cruel as to tell me that you managed it in one, we both know you’re just trying to see if I’m gullible. I’m not!!! Oh, you’re still standing your ground? Then come to my house, I have two little assholes that could use your expert assistance.