Jan Brady Syndrome

Don't blame me - I got the lazy gene from my mother.

I have an important announcement -- the skinny, orange twin has been reading my blog. There is no other explanation that she suddenly decided she was going to pee on the potty other than the fact I implied via the World Wide Web that she couldn't. The other twin (above) either can't read yet or doesn't give a crap what you or me or anybody else thinks and a diaper suits her just fine thankyouverymuch. (Who lazes around Pump It Party like this? Shouldn't she be jumping up and down like a deranged monkey or similar?)

So as I was getting them dressed the other morning, Twin A (she was born first, she crawled first, she walked first, she talked first and now she used the potty first -- NOBODY LIKES A SHOW OFF!) said very matter-of-factly "I want to tinkle on the potty." So off to the potty we marched (which I've now placed in the bathroom and I ran the water thanks to a reader's advice) and she sat down and suddenly music started blaring and she looked up quite smugly and said "Clean it mommy." Whether it was her butt or the potty she was referring to I'm not sure, but sitting there was a pool of urine and you would have thought it was a winning PowerBall ticket I was so excited. I clapped and laughed and did a little jig sort of like the one that Ashlee Simpson did after getting busted for lip synching on SNL.

And then I looked over at Twin B, poor Twin B, who surely has Jan Brady Syndrome by now (MARSHA MARSHA MARSHA!), and felt terrible. I congratulated her too and gave them both stickers specifically designed for rewarding potty progress. I see major therapy bills in my future, when as a teenager Twin B will recall feeling like the second banana her whole life. I will sit with her in family therapy and explain defensively that I gave her a sticker too that day and the therapist will bill us $500 for telling me what a rotten mother I am.