A couple of days ago, Chuck and I went to Target and I was super
nervous. (Like armpit sweat nervous.) For the past week and a half, we had a breakthrough in potty training. He was telling me when he
needed to use the bathroom. (Finally! Yes! Insert choir of angels.) But, I was still
putting him in pullups when we went out. I was afraid that he would
have an accident outside.
But since we're on week 3 of Amy's
#RiskRejection challenge (where bloggers embrace risk even if it involves getting rejected), I felt emboldened. If other ladies could risk big and start businesses and non-profits, apply to become foster parents, write books, and move to other states and countries, then certainly Chuck could wear underwear outside.
So Chuck and I both put on our big kid pants and went to Target sans pullups. In the beginning, everything seemed was fine. I kept reminding him to let me know when he needed to potty
and he said that he would.
But then we entered the toy section... that terrible black hole in the store where logic and reason escape and wails and tears (Mom's silent ones and children's vocal ones) are heard in every aisle. We got to the Cars section and Chuck hopped out, super excited.
And then he peed.
Oof.
It was just a tiny accident, but I still felt so bad. We cleaned up in the bathroom and then I told the workers. I expected to see a smirk, a roll of the eyes, a shaking of the head, or the accusation of "Bad Mommy! Now you have to wear the scarlet P!" But none of this happened.
They were actually... nice about the whole thing. Within a couple of minutes everything was cleaned up and no one was the wiser.
I was hesitant to share this risk as part of my
#RiskRejection Challenge because I wasn't moving mountains. My risk was small. But maybe that's ok? Maybe taking small risks like this one will still mold me to be a better, braver person and mom.
Psst- If you want to see how I took this hazy photo, keep on reading!
