WARNING: If you cannot deal with a post that is about both food and potty training, just go ahead and skip on down to the bullet points below. I’m not going to get too graphic here, and this is really more about preschool, but I get that a certain portion of my readership might get skeeved out all the same. You know who you are. For the brave among you, read on.
Last weekend I was talking to a girlfriend who was pretty excited about how her daycare manages potty training as part of this comprehensive program that all kids do. Apparently the teachers are just all totally on top of this program and the moms love it and the kids love it, and the kids poop confetti and rainbows and sunshine into their pristine little mini water-saving toilets every day and nobody ever has an accident, and all the kids grow up healthy and get into their first choice colleges, the end.
Meanwhile, my son has been successfully using the potty at home for about 5 months, and has steadfastly refused to transfer these skills to school. And so it occurred to me to maybe mention this program to my school’s director in the hopes that she would consider it, because it seemed fairly obvious to me that if potty was just a thing that everybody of a certain age did, then my son would do it too and we’d be done with this nonsense by now.
Now usually when it occurs to me to maybe mention something like this I just stuff it down because I know that I am often perceived as bitchy and aggressive, and I hate to go around actually confirming that for people. And the truth is that I almost never intend to be bitchy and aggressive, but I do occasionally forget to say nice things like “thanks for your thoughtful reply” and “we really love all the teachers there” and “I know that everyone is working really hard on this” even if I am actually thinking those things and my heart is warm with love. It just doesn’t occur to me to verbalize them until it’s too late and as far as anyone is concerned, I am certifiably a Class A Bitch.
But this time, I kind of thought I had a fair point. So I carefully drafted an email that was, I believe, really nice, and just said, hey, maybe you want to look at what place x is doing? You know, with a question mark, so it wasn’t too overbearing. And the director got back to me right away with another nice email saying that a one-size-fits-all approach was definitely not in the mission of the school, which fair enough. But I really felt like we needed to address the potty thing, so then I got back to her with a significantly more strongly worded message that perhaps went a bit further than strictly advisable.
And this elevated our personalized potty plan to CRISIS LEVEL A BILLION and now I can’t set foot in the school without someone (or three) talking to me about my son’s toileting. Which, on the one hand, awesome. And on the other, I feel a bit silly about making such a fuss about it.
BUT! After a few days of trying various tricks, Cos seems to actually be doing what we were aiming for, so yay for me eventually getting to the intended result with waaaayyyy more stress than was necessary for everyone involved. Welcome to parenting, have a look around. It’s gonna be like this for a while, I guess.
As for food, I still had a delicata squash hanging out along with some spinach. So I decided to turn it all into pizza!
- 1 delicata squash seeded and cubed
- 2 strips bacon, cut into bits
- 1/2 onion, diced
- 1 bunch spinach
- 1/4 C white wine
- Goat cheese
- Pizza crust
Preheat oven to 400. Toss delicata with some EVOO and alst and pepper. Place on baking sheet and roast 15 minutes or until nicely soft. Meanwhile, cook bacon. When crispy, drain bacon, and pour off most of the fat, leaving only the fat that clings to the pan. Saute onions in the fat until starting to color. Add spinach and white wine, scraping up the brown bits, and cook until spinach is wilted and the liquid has mostly evaporated.
Kick the oven up to 425. Top the pizza crust with spinach mix and squash as well as carefully placed hunks of goat cheese and a drizzle more EVOO. Bake 18 – 20 minutes.