Chloe took a late nap today and we’d made plans to go to a small local circus tonight after she woke up from her nap. It was nearly time to leave and she was still sleeping and, knowing how much she wanted to go, Kerri and I decided to try and roust her out of bed, somehow failing to remember the adage about “never wake a sleeping baby.” Eventually she got up and dressed and all that she had to do was go potty before we could leave. She’s been on-again-off-again with the potty training and we’ve started to use events as an excuse to mandate some potty time. For the most part this works. Except tonight.

I’m not sure if it was the sleepiness or the sincere lack of a need, or just stubborness, but she was _not_ down to use the toilet and commenced a twenty-minute long cry-a-thon in protest. In the end I told her that she could make the decision to use the potty that minute, or we would not be able to go to the circus because it would be too late. She wouldn’t budge, but it wasn’t until about 30 minutes later that she realized what had happened and was utterly crushed. I felt so damn stupid keeping her home over something like that – who am I to tell her when she needs to relieve her bladder? It’s her bladder after all. But, we’re getting into some deeper waters now as Chloe is getting older and beginning to understand the fine art of resistance and manipulation and so we have to begin to draw some lines that feel pretty damn arbitrary, to be honest, just to establish some boundaries and initiate that idea of “what mom and dad says goes.”

I hate having to do that to her. She’s the sweetest thing in the world and to have to act against her in ways, even if it’s for her own good, just kills me. Anyway, Chloe – I’m sorry we missed the circus tonight.

We held a gallery opening at the studio last night – “A Chance of Showers.” The turnout was great, especially considering it was a December event and we raised nearly $1,000 for  826 Seattle. It’s so great to be able to do things like that. It sort of off-sets our commercial work as a studio as well as giving the people in the studio something inspirational to work on.

I found my watch while I was looking for my pen. It always happens this way.
I found my blue sweatshirt when I was looking for my black belt and my cellphone charger when I was looking for an extension cord for the Christmas lights.

I’m pretty site this is both normal and completely out of our control. There are very tiny, discrete oranisms with very little to do aside from guide our searches for personal belongings.

It is, of course, this lone of reasoning that has lead to my current predicament whereby I find myself stuck in as airport in Mexico having arrived in full awareness that I had lost my plane ticket and believing so much in my theory and the cosmos that I assumed I would find it while looking for the restroom or, at least, discover the notebook I’d lost last time I was here. That totally would have been worth it.