I needed to get dish soap, and a few other things. Dish soap was the most important item on my list, as we were completely out and I had a pile of dishes waiting to be done. Dishes can’t really wait, at least…not in my books. Having a messy kitchen makes me anxious and snippy, and things don’t seem to run as smoothly with a messy kitchen.

Matt was feeling better enough to be awake for the afternoon, and he said he’d tag along to Walmart so I could leave the very dirty (from digging in the dirt outside) kids in the van with him while I ran into Walmart.

I rushed around, tossing the items we needed into the cart. Deorderant for him, deorderant for me. Q-tips. Burt’s Bees baby shampoo/wash. Double sided carpet tape (for the ripped couch — I’m tired of the kids ripping its innards out all over the place). Dish soap. Garbage bags.

Then I went to the 1-10 item check out line. The cashier smiled at me and made small talk as she rang my items through. “That’ll be 62 dollars,” she said.

“Debit please?”

Her face fell. “That’s not Scotiabank debit, is it?” I told her it was. “Oh, well. For some reason, Scotiabank debit cards aren’t working. It will show as paid, but it won’t pay us – and the money is gone from the accounts. You can use that ATM over there,” she motioned to a machine nearly beside her lane.

No big deal, I thought, walking towards the ATM. I put my card in it, but the same message remained. Error: machine unavailable. Code 33.

“Um, the ATM isn’t working,” I told the cashier, coming back.

“Oh dear, you don’t have anything else?” She asked, looking skeptical. I shook my head.

We pretty much always use debit. It’s such a pain to withdraw money, and then it gets spent quicker. And what was the point of having more than one bank? I like everything in one place. I don’t personally have a credit card, I don’t qualify for one, nor do I want one.

“I guess I’ll have to come back later,” I added, knowing I wouldn’t be back. This was my only chance, really. The kids had to have dinner and go to bed. Matt was due for a painkiller and I knew he was exhausted and sore, and would need a lay down. That’s always the way it goes.

I was able to get a few items from Shoppers, but I’ll still have to go out tomorrow. It’s wasn’t overly a big bad deal, I was mostly disappointed because I wanted to fix the couch, and I felt guilty for having Matt wait all that time, in probable pain, for nothing.


Then there is the regression…

Nolan has, yet again, returned to his ways of hiding behind or under furniture to poop in his underwear. He is back to screaming and carrying on every single time I put him on the toilet.

“I HATE BATHROOMS! I HATE TOILETS!” He’ll scream manically every time I catch him trying to poop in his underwear and get him up on the toilet.

We had a month of no accidents, a month of him telling me when he had to go and him going on the toilet. One month. I thought, for certain, we were finally done ‘potty training’. But then this week happened, and I realize that there is a lot of tension (from me), and that he is worried about his daddy but I am just so exhausted. Matt’s getting better and each day he spends longer and longer downstairs with the boys. Sure, he’s still using crutches to get around. It’s still causing him a lot of pain, but he’s putting on a good front for the boys.

I just don’t get it. And I’m tired. I’m so tired of thinking he’s potty trained and then he turns around and pulls this. He knows it’s wrong, he just doesn’t care. And I know, I’ve written about how kids do things in their own time, and of how some kids take longer to do things, but this is frustrating because I know he knows. I know he can do it. He just won’t.


There is only a week until we get the keys to our new place. That crept up on us. I thought I’d have most of the house packed by now, and I probably would have had Matt not had that accident.

I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed about the whole thing. I’m excited for this new chapter, but nervous. I don’t know how it’s going to go.

Yesterday, after the failed Walmart attempt, we took a drive to show the boys the outside of our soon-to-be new house. Nolan said he liked it. Archer didn’t seem to notice much aside from the pink lemonade he was drinking from Tim Hortons, a “keep quiet for daddy while mommy shops” treat.

I’m desperate to get the “big work” done quickly. With the help of family and a few close friends, I want to have the fence put up, the walls painted, and the carpets steam cleaned within the first week. I want to be living there by the beginning of the 3rd week in September, so the last week and a half can be spent cleaning and fixing up this place.

Archer’s birthday is still going to be on the 5th of October, so I’d like to be settled and unpacked well before then.

I need to get motivated to pack, but my energies are exhausted as of right now. Soon, I hope!


About J.C. Hannigan

25. Mother. Wife. Lover of words. Weaver of stories. My first book, Collide, is available in e-book for Amazon Kindle and Kobo.
This entry was posted in bits and pieces, blogging, challenges, frustrations, honesty, kids, life, mom stuff, moody, musings, N, ranting, telling stories, tough stuff, updates, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Manifestations

  1. That sounds like a nightmare! I would be so frustrated about the debit card. That’s so random that it’s just that particular bank that it’s deciding to reject too. I wonder why.

    I wonder if there’s some info on potty training regression online. What does your pediatrician say?

    • Jess says:

      It apparently happened in more places than just Walmart. I had a friend who had it happen at a gas station – must have been scotia servers.

      My paediatrician is not helpful :/ so I doubt she’d say anything.

  2. Pingback: Of Challenges | The Fevered Pen

  3. Pingback: “But I just want to jump!” | The Fevered Pen

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