Dora Undies

I remember fondly a time in my life when I would get excited only when something out of the ordinary and truly delightful happened. Graduating from high school.  That was exciting!  I won a radio contest once.  That was exciting!  Landing my first job.  That was exciting!  Getting engaged. Exciting!!!  Buying our first house.  Do you get the point?


I'm a "little" older now and have come to realize that life is a little less exciting and yet, for the oddest reasons I find myself in moments of sheer and uncontrollable delight as if Ed McMahon just appeared on my doorstep with a sweepstakes check.  And seeing as he has been dead for quite some time, that would be extremely exciting...or disturbing. 

I digress.


I found myself in such a state last week and, in the midst of my celebration, realized just how much my perspective on excitement has changed.  What was I in jubilance over?  My 3 year old going to the bathroom on her own.

Now, in my own defense, this mother has been in a constant state of diaper changing for the past 6 years so the fact that this single event moved me one step closer to a diaperless existence was a very big deal.  I would be less than candid, however, if I didn't express that my joy was momentarily interrupted by a revelation of the fact that I have now been denigrated to celebrating basic bodily functions.  

Gone are the days of relishing in the traditionally "exciting".  New adventures, surprise gifts, world travel?  Nah.  I'm euphoric over Winnie the Pooh potty seats and Dora undies. 

Or perhaps, I'm just enraptured by the little girl who wears them.