Childcare...

So I am posting on a Friday night. Lame? I don't care because I have GOT to talk about childcare and how normal it seems while doing it, and how crazy/weird/funny it is when you look back on what you just did. I am technically babysitting right now but Matthew is sleeping and Isabella is, well, here's the story:

Isabella was splashing around in the bathtub, having a merry ol' time when suddenly she looks up at me, bug eyed, and shouts "I GOTTA POOP! HURRY, THE POOP IS COMING!" So I grab her out of the tub as quick as I can, place the special kids potty on top of the grown-up potty and let her sit. "Privacy, please!" I leave. Two minutes later (this is normal, she always takes forever to poop), "TOYS, PLEASE!" I then give her a few plastic figurines, and a tea cup. Leave again. 8 minutes later I walk in. "You done?" I ask. "Not yet." 2 minutes after that I walk in. It reeks like shit, she is done. I ask, "Are you done?" "No, I mean yes." I then proceed to lift her off the toilet. She assumes the position and then screams, "A POOP IS COMING! PUT ME BACK!" I then put her back and blog.

So is my Friday night in New York City. I am pretty glam, I must say.