It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

The title of this post is somewhat melodramatic. I take that back: it's VERY melodramatic, but it does pretty accurately capture the yin and yang of living with a pair of preschoolers - more specifically, a very handsome and precious preschooler named Thomas Frederick Pressley.

In "Best of Times" news, Freddie has (finally) potty trained this week! I've known I needed to do it - for one thing, the child is nearly 3.5 years old. For another thing, he can't start preschool until he ditches the diapers.

But, with as much as we're on the road, diapers are just so CONVENIENT. I love that he can do his business, and I don't really have anything to do with it - until the time comes to do away with it.

But all good things must come to an end, right?

To be honest, what finally made me do what needed to be done was the fact that I've got a great opportunity to speak at a theatre in Charlotte on the 20th (thank You, Lord, for opening this door for me!), and because I want the relationship with the Blumenthal Performing Arts Center to continue (and grow), I really need to do a home-run kind of presentation, and there's no way I can prep for a home-run kind of presentation when constantly interrupted by pleas to press play (again) on "Day of the Diesels" or by one brother banging the other brother's head against the wall.

The answer was obvious: Clyde First Baptist, the boys' preschool, offers a super affordable summer day camp for kids who are enrolled for the fall. The catch? Potty-training is a pre-requisite.

So at some point late last week, I made the decision that, because I need a kid-free week to prep for the next week, Monday would be the day - the beginning of the end of our family's almost five year long reliance on diapers.

When it comes to potty training, I am a "cold turkey" kind of person. This works primarily because I've waited so late to train my boys that they are basically capable of teaching themselves. I wouldn't have it any other way. Those with toilet-using two year olds may have gotten there first, but I guarantee you I got there more easily, so, in my book, I win.

But this isn't about the "how" of potty training. It's about the "now" of potty training. It's done now, and after an incredibly easy week with so few accidents I can count them on one hand, Freddie is qualified for preschool, for super-affordable-summer-day-camp-at-preschool, and for using the pools on a Disney Cruise, if I can ever talk Jeremy in to taking one.

Cue my Pharrell William's "Happy" dance.

And now, for the "Worst of Times."

After starting out really strongly in swimming lessons, Freddie has gotten to the point where he absolutely will not - like, can not, even under threat of corporal punishment - jump into the pool, even with his life jacket on. He's suddenly terrified.

He's been like this for a few weeks, so after he and Jones finished their six weeks of swimming readiness lessons with Sarah Grace, I asked her opinion on whether or not they're ready to move on to actual swim lessons. Jones definitely is, she said (Woohoo!). Until Freddie's ready to jump in and to get his face and hair wet, he's not, so we've decided Jones will continue seeing Sarah Grace every Thursday, and Freddie will wait another year or so until he's ready.

It's not a big deal. 3.5 is really young for lessons, anyway. I'm just slightly surprised that Jones is ready for something before Freddie is, because we all know that doesn't happen often.

So, see? I told you it wasn't as bad as all that. "Worst of times"? Hardly. But with the potty training thing behind us, I can only imagine that the "best of times" are ahead.