Category Archives: Parenting

>Self Esteem, Check!

>Today Jack pooped on the potty. I don’t know why but I just said, “Great!” instead of singing the song and doing the dance. I was running around with the dog in the back yard yesterday and I tripped over the sprinkler line, flew through the air and landed far away on my side. That might explain my forgetfulness regarding the poop song, and my lack of desire to do the death defying poop dance celebration. No worries, Jack had his own congratulatory session.

“I pooped on the potty and that’s impressive. It’s incredible. And awesome. It’s incredibly awesome.”

This is going to sound sort of petty and mean, but I couldn’t help but think, “He sure has an impressive vocabulary for someone who frequently craps in his pants.”

>Lessons, Learned

>When you come home from daycare with a plastic bagged filled with a pair of underwear filled with a big turd, your first instinct might be to deal with it immediately, have a drink and forget it ever happened for 24 hours until the same thing happens again.

Word to the wise: Take off your coat and scarf first. Never lean over the toilet to deal with turd filled underwear (henceforth referred to as The Situation) while wearing a beautiful scarf. I can’t stress this enough people. While you are taking off your hat and scarf, pour yourself a drink and savor it for 15 minutes and then deal with The Situation. Just don’t wait so long that your spouse says, “Did you leave The Situation in the bathroom for me to deal with?” Relax everyone, there will be enough to go around.

>Today, In Potty Training

>The other day, Jack sat on the potty before nap, and then I put a diaper on him and pulled up his pants. I am trying to keep him in pants that are easy-on/easy-off on the off chance he decides to try to go on his own. We had gone through a few pairs, so the ones he had on were too big and had to be rolled at the waist.

He immediately commenced pre-nap procrastination/fit-throwing.

“Eeeeeh. My PANTS. They aren’t UP!”

“Yes they are, honey. Here, I’ll straighten them.”

“THEY AREN’T UP.”

“It probably just feels funny to wear a diaper after having underwear on all day.”

“NO!!!! MY PANTS aren’t UP. I can’t WALK.”

“Yes, you can, come on downstairs.”

And so on, for the five minutes it took him to walk down to his bedroom. He even stopped once to lean way over to try to figure out what the problem was and almost toppled down the stairs. I grabbed him by the shirt and carried him the rest of the way.

I almost lost my temper, but I am reading a book about happiness and I had a vague memory of some piece of advice and I thought, why lose your temper? So I took a deep breath and said, “OK, maybe I got your diaper on crooked, let me take a look.”

And what did I see? Diaper was fine, pants were fine, but I hadn’t taken off his underwear and they were around his knees.

I burst into hysterical laughter, and fortunately, he did too.

After nap he said, “Remember before nap, how we were giggling? That was funny.”

>Here is How It’s Done

>

I was reading stories at bedtime tonight and I was on auto pilot so when Jack said, “Dat what you training me to do?”, I said, “Uh? Potty training, what?” But he was pointing to this picture and saying, “When people are bothering me, you are training me to just walk away.”

And yes, that was my brilliant parenting advice. Instead of hitting or yelling, just walk away! Please feel free to use this advice.

Name the book for bonus points!

>Oh Lucy, Oh Girl

>Jack and Lucy are basically litter mates, and they have a very special relationship. Jack likes to pet her, and say, “Oh Lucy, Oh girl.” It’s nice when the two of them are being adorable at the same time, because at the other end of the spectrum, I am cleaning up poop and trying to determine whose it is through forensic analysis. But that’s a story for another day.

The other day when Jack delayed using the potty until it was too late, I said, “Didn’t Daddy and I both tell you you needed to try?” And he said, “Well, Lucy told me just to go in my underwear.” I said, “Well, who are you supposed to listen to? Daddy and I? Or Lucy?” He said, “Daddy.” Ok, close enough. Because Lucy is far from an authority on potty training.

There are obvious benefits to Jack being potty trained, but those won’t be realized for a few weeks, at the very minimum. So I am trying to see bright sides on a daily basis. So far, all I have come up with is that if I am doing so much laundry, then I might as well start my New Year’s resolution of using cloth napkins all the time. But… that makes it sound like I am washing the cloth napkins with the dirty underwear, and I swear I am not doing that. I am just in the laundry room a lot more often. Seriously.

So, while I am deep in the trenches of this last rite of babyhood, at least we can have a little sophistication at the dinner table. And we are saving the environment too. Yup, potty training is the best thing ever.

>Little Hippie at the Liquor Store

>Friday night, Jack and I were wondering the liquor store on our way out for the evening. The boys had an offer of free tickets to a CU Basketball game, and I was going to send them on their merry way and have a glass of wine with the moms.

We were wandering up and down the aisles trying to pick out a bottle of wine, after Jack had unsuccessfully lobbied to be left in the car. I suppose I was taking too much time, muttering to myself, “Hmmm. What do I want, what do I want, what do I want?”

Jack decided to be helpful and said, “Well, what is your body telling you?”

I said, “Oh, I don’t know, what is your body telling you?” because I wasn’t sure what he was even talking about. He decided to give me an example, “My body is saying I WANT BEER.”

Oh, OK. Thanks! I decided my body was telling me I wanted red wine. It never got any more specific, so I let my wallet make the rest of the decision.

>Play D’oh! The Full Sensory Experience

>The other day, Dave came to find me with Jack under his arm and said, “We have a situation. He stuck play doh up his nose.”

My first thought was, “Thank GOD I put the search option on my blog!” Because I knew this had happened before, and I had some crazy idea that the worst case scenario was to suck the stuff out with your mouth, but that maybe my friend Mare had corrected that in the comments, and I should check before I did anything crazy like that, and I could search on “stuck in your nose” and the answer would be right there, but Dave would probably prefer if I just got it out instead of firing up my laptop, and before I was finished with this crazy thought rampage I had gotten most of it out with my beautifully manicured nail and the bulb sucker.

Dave didn’t think the bulb sucker was working, so I resorted to the nail, while informing him that the bulb sucker was mostly just to torture Jack for putting something in his nose (exactly my same thought process as last time, and obviously not a real deterrent)

In the end, the bulb sucker did work to get it all out, once Dave was holding Jack down and I could really cram it in there.

I should also mention that as soon as Jack started playing with the play doh, (the day before) I saw him holding a mold very close to his face. He caught my eye and said, “You don’t eat it?” I said, “No. You don’t eat it.” He said, “Just lick it?” I said, “No, you don’t lick it.” So he finally sighed and said, “Oh. You just smell it?” I said, “Yes, just smell it.”

I had no idea how closely he planned to smell it.

>Rootin’ And Tootin’

>As promised (by Dave), I took Jack to Chuck E Cheese this morning to celebrate his lone poop on the potty. While we were out, we made visits to the bathrooms at both Chuck E Cheese and Costco. He peed and CEC, but just sat there at Costco. Well, he sat there cheering. Loudly. Jack was wearing a retro Broncos tee-shirt (with the old school blue and orange colors), which he happened to notice while he was sitting on the pot gazing downwards. This caused him to cheer, “Go BRONCOS!” And once he gets in a cheering mood, there is no stopping him.

“BUFFALO! BUFFALO! GO C!U! “
“BUFFALO! BUFFALO! GO C!U! “

AND so on.

Props to Grandad for the title of this post, which evolved over dinner as I shared the story.

>Must Be Bath Night Because Some Ears Need to be Cleaned Out!

>Luke: I am rooting for The Netherlands.
Me: Don’t be offended, but I think I am going to root for Spain.
Dave: Oooh – in house rivalry. Do you to want to place bets?
Luke: NO! I took a bath last night!

???

Me: Jack, can you finish your yogurt or is that now impossible?
Jack: I can’t. It’s a popsicle.

???

In other news, we went to The Library today, and because it only takes 100 times for me to learn my lesson, I took Jack into the bathroom as soon as we got there. No dice. He just slowly backed out, somberly shaking his head “no”. It paid off though, because after dinner, I brought a big stack of reading material into the bathroom with Jack and… He POOPED on the POTTY! Big news. We now owe him a trip to Chuck E Cheese. Or Chuckie Cheese, as Luke would say.

Then, I heard Dave scheming with Luke and they planned a trip to Casa Bonita to celebrate a full week of pooping on the potty, when and if that ever happens. Not sure how I feel about it, because that place sounds like it could scare the poop out of anyone. Luke went there on a camp field trip, and in my research, I found this description, “it’s like Disney had sex with Tijuana and left the goofy-looking bastard to fend for itself in a random strip mall on Colfax. “

In other poop related news, my new favorite line from a book is, “Mr. B is making it happen.”

>Potty Training

>Jack likes to use the bathroom at The Med, Murphy’s, The Rio, Coors Stadium, and other places that are not our house. (Well, our bathroom is an exciting destination at 2:00 am, or just after Jack has been put to bed.) I have a new theory on this: When we are out, it’s obvious when a family member is going to use the bathroom because they excuse themselves and leave to go to the bathroom. Jack wants to go too. At home, it’s not such a big deal, and not something Jack would notice and it isn’t so exciting that he would want to join you. This is just a theory. But I am going to suggest to the rest of my family that everyone start making a big deal out of announcing that they are going to use the bathroom. We’ll see how that goes.

But I wanted to share this: The second time I took Jack to the bathroom at Coor’s field during the Rockies game on Saturday, I covered the seat with toilet paper, took of his shorts and diaper, sat him on the pot, etc etc. Then once he was dressed I quickly went to the bathroom. This time, instead of trying to open the door and escape, Jack just hung out and waited until I was finished. And then he loudly said, “Good Job Mommy! GOOD JOB!”