Although his relationship with his little sister has improved greatly, we still have some work to do with our son. Our conversation this morning:
"Mom, only 3 people should live here, not 4."
"Who should be here?"
"Mommy, Daddy, and me."
"What about your sister?"
"She can live in space."
"But we would miss her!"
"We can go visit her in space, Mom. On our space ship."
Monday, May 21, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
A bookworm without pants...2
While staying with the grandparents...
3-year old runs up stairs yelling, "I'm gonna need a book Mom!" (I am sure you can crack that code as to what's about to happen in there.)
10 minutes later, child appears on stairs. Naked and reading. The book is big enough to cover his unmentionables. He descends down the stairs, completely engrossed in the book, walks into the playroom, and sits back down into his previous reading chair that he had left a few minutes before. As if nothing had changed.
No awareness that his pants and underwear are still upstairs.
That's our boy.
3-year old runs up stairs yelling, "I'm gonna need a book Mom!" (I am sure you can crack that code as to what's about to happen in there.)
10 minutes later, child appears on stairs. Naked and reading. The book is big enough to cover his unmentionables. He descends down the stairs, completely engrossed in the book, walks into the playroom, and sits back down into his previous reading chair that he had left a few minutes before. As if nothing had changed.
No awareness that his pants and underwear are still upstairs.
That's our boy.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Going on a year now...
We actively began potty training our son last June. As in June of 2011. It is now May. Of 2012. And honestly, I thought we really were about done. He has not had a real accident in months. However, the following has occurred in the past 48 hours:
Yesterday... Pick up son from child care room at gym. He is disheveled and his shirt is tucked in to his pants in the front. This is evidence that we went on the potty there. Good boy. Or not? As I retrieve child #2 and we begin to exit, I notice that he is holding his butt and walking oddly. I ask him if he pooped in his pants, to which he lies, "No." Upon further investigation, I learn that yes, in fact, he did poop in his underpants although he actually did use the potty at some point...???
After several interrogation attempts that lead to no real information, I give up. I chock this event up to him not knowing the childcare workers well at the gym and not being familiar with the bathroom there. An annoying hiccup, but we get past it.
Then today we attend a play date at a friend's house -- a house he has been to a countless number of times, and a house he has pooped and peed at successfully. While running around outside, he begins to do the potty dance but swears he does not have to go. (I know this is untrue, but he needs to come to terms with it on his own, accept the reality that he needs to walk away from the toys to use the potty. Usually he does manage this with enough time to spare. Usually.) Finally, after several potty-dancing minutes, he runs to me frantically yelling that he needs to go potty. I take him inside and he pees on the potty, but I also notice his underwear are soaked. I am very angry at this because he did not give himself enough time to get there. After scolding him, I decide to just let him run around outside in his mesh shorts without underwear (as the clean underwear are in the car and I need to get back to tending to his sister too). I also state clearly that if he has another accident, now that we have had TWO in the past two days, that I am going to take his LeapPad away for a day.
A few minutes later, back outside, he runs up to me holding his butt and crying, "Don't take my LeapPad away!" I am in disbelief. Are you kidding me? Did you poop in your underpants AGAIN? Then I realize with horror that he is not wearing underpants and that the only thing between the poop and the rest of the world -- my friend's yard and house -- is a pair of loose mesh shorts.
The next 20 minutes is a bit of a blur, but you can imagine how it went down. Thank goodness Mommy has Book Club tonight and that there will be wine.
Yesterday... Pick up son from child care room at gym. He is disheveled and his shirt is tucked in to his pants in the front. This is evidence that we went on the potty there. Good boy. Or not? As I retrieve child #2 and we begin to exit, I notice that he is holding his butt and walking oddly. I ask him if he pooped in his pants, to which he lies, "No." Upon further investigation, I learn that yes, in fact, he did poop in his underpants although he actually did use the potty at some point...???
After several interrogation attempts that lead to no real information, I give up. I chock this event up to him not knowing the childcare workers well at the gym and not being familiar with the bathroom there. An annoying hiccup, but we get past it.
Then today we attend a play date at a friend's house -- a house he has been to a countless number of times, and a house he has pooped and peed at successfully. While running around outside, he begins to do the potty dance but swears he does not have to go. (I know this is untrue, but he needs to come to terms with it on his own, accept the reality that he needs to walk away from the toys to use the potty. Usually he does manage this with enough time to spare. Usually.) Finally, after several potty-dancing minutes, he runs to me frantically yelling that he needs to go potty. I take him inside and he pees on the potty, but I also notice his underwear are soaked. I am very angry at this because he did not give himself enough time to get there. After scolding him, I decide to just let him run around outside in his mesh shorts without underwear (as the clean underwear are in the car and I need to get back to tending to his sister too). I also state clearly that if he has another accident, now that we have had TWO in the past two days, that I am going to take his LeapPad away for a day.
A few minutes later, back outside, he runs up to me holding his butt and crying, "Don't take my LeapPad away!" I am in disbelief. Are you kidding me? Did you poop in your underpants AGAIN? Then I realize with horror that he is not wearing underpants and that the only thing between the poop and the rest of the world -- my friend's yard and house -- is a pair of loose mesh shorts.
The next 20 minutes is a bit of a blur, but you can imagine how it went down. Thank goodness Mommy has Book Club tonight and that there will be wine.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
My eval
One of the many, many..... many aspects of the working world that I miss is those glowing evaluations. I loved teaching and when you love what you do, well, you are often relatively good at it. Of course I always had areas that needed improvement, but I felt confident on most days that I was doing ok.
Then there is stay-at-home-motherhood. For most of us there are no glowing evaluations. No one comes in to "observe" us at work for 45 minutes, take notes, write up a list of comments on areas where we excel as well as areas we could improve and then schedule a meeting 3-5 days later to discuss it. None of us SAHMs get to walk in to a room full of smiling bosses sitting around a table ready to gush at our wonderfulness. No one gets a raise when her baby finally nurses successfully or when her child is finally potty-trained or when her son correctly uses a fork.
How then do we evaluate ourselves? Although told not to, and we don't want to, we compare our kids to other kids, find faults with them and therefore, find faults with ourselves. I would bet that if your kid ran to the top of Mt. Everest, came back down, found a cure for cancer, and solved world hunger all before becoming president of the United States, that you would still say, "I just wonder if I waited too long before teaching him to ride a bike." I know I would.
No matter what we do and what our kids do, we tend to negatively evaluate ourselves as mothers. (I did this exact thing in my previous post about my 3-year old super-reader who can't put his own shoes on. And they are velcro.) There is always more we can do -- more crafts, more academic activities, more exposure to classical music, more exposure to sign language... There are always thing other kids are doing that ours are not. Your daughter says HOW MANY words?? Your son counts HOW HIGH? I am clearly a horrible mother because my kids says 8 words and yours says 11. You make homemade organic smoothies? My kids eat frozen waffles. You feed your kids vegetables from your own garden? My kids don't eat vegetables. Sigh. Failure.
Well today I was told by someone in the know that I am doing a good job. My town has a program called Parents as Teachers (your town may have this program as well) and my "teacher" visits every couple of months to evaluate my kids, make sure they are on track developmentally, and provide me with advice, feedback, etc. It is really the closest thing to a super-mom-teacher evaluator. And guess what? She said I am good at my job. It brought back all the warm fuzzies of those glowing working-world evaluations. No, there is not anything on paper with her signature, and no there is no raise, promotion, or fancy catered work lunch to go along with it. Just a couple of words -- but it was really good to hear.
I bet you are good at your job too.
Then there is stay-at-home-motherhood. For most of us there are no glowing evaluations. No one comes in to "observe" us at work for 45 minutes, take notes, write up a list of comments on areas where we excel as well as areas we could improve and then schedule a meeting 3-5 days later to discuss it. None of us SAHMs get to walk in to a room full of smiling bosses sitting around a table ready to gush at our wonderfulness. No one gets a raise when her baby finally nurses successfully or when her child is finally potty-trained or when her son correctly uses a fork.
How then do we evaluate ourselves? Although told not to, and we don't want to, we compare our kids to other kids, find faults with them and therefore, find faults with ourselves. I would bet that if your kid ran to the top of Mt. Everest, came back down, found a cure for cancer, and solved world hunger all before becoming president of the United States, that you would still say, "I just wonder if I waited too long before teaching him to ride a bike." I know I would.
No matter what we do and what our kids do, we tend to negatively evaluate ourselves as mothers. (I did this exact thing in my previous post about my 3-year old super-reader who can't put his own shoes on. And they are velcro.) There is always more we can do -- more crafts, more academic activities, more exposure to classical music, more exposure to sign language... There are always thing other kids are doing that ours are not. Your daughter says HOW MANY words?? Your son counts HOW HIGH? I am clearly a horrible mother because my kids says 8 words and yours says 11. You make homemade organic smoothies? My kids eat frozen waffles. You feed your kids vegetables from your own garden? My kids don't eat vegetables. Sigh. Failure.
Well today I was told by someone in the know that I am doing a good job. My town has a program called Parents as Teachers (your town may have this program as well) and my "teacher" visits every couple of months to evaluate my kids, make sure they are on track developmentally, and provide me with advice, feedback, etc. It is really the closest thing to a super-mom-teacher evaluator. And guess what? She said I am good at my job. It brought back all the warm fuzzies of those glowing working-world evaluations. No, there is not anything on paper with her signature, and no there is no raise, promotion, or fancy catered work lunch to go along with it. Just a couple of words -- but it was really good to hear.
I bet you are good at your job too.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
A bookworm without pants
My 3-year old son can read. Seriously. He can pick up a book he has never seen before and read it. He reads his own birthday cards, billboards on the interstate, writing on strangers t-shirts, etc. He was actually able to read before even turning 3. He knew how to spell his name before he could pronounce it. He is sort of freakishly smart in that way.
However.
He occasionally still poops in his underpants. He cannot get himself dressed, get his shoes on (or sometimes even off), or brush his teeth without help. He still struggles to jump properly. He rarely eats with utensils. I still wipe his hands and face clean after meals. He will probably sleep in a pull-up until he is 7, and I cannot fathom the day when he successfully wipes his own bottom.
Most of the fault is mine for his short-comings. Like most 3-year old little boys, he is impatient and easily distracted. While getting dressed, he is looking around the room, pointing at things, telling me stories, and I have to remind him over and over to concentrate and focus on getting himself dressed. I will hand him his shoes and tell him to get them on (or at least attempt); upon my return 3 minutes later, he is doing a puzzle on the floor, shoeless. Most of the time when I try, really commit to making him learn to do these things himself, it is the day my 15-month old becomes extra clingy. While "patiently" teaching him how to properly wash his own hands, she is pulling my pants down or trying to climb into the toilet. He is also a horrible eater, so often I am so happy to see him eat meat and a vegetable, that I pretend not to notice him shoveling it all into his mouth with his hands like a 3-year old neanderthal.
So what does Mommy too often do? She just does things for him. She puts his shoes on for him. She dresses him, cleans him up, wipes his butt. She helps him brush his teeth because half way through doing it himself, he starts adding up all of the fish on the shower curtain -- and it is 30 minutes past his bedtime --and Mommy has been up with the kids since 5:30 A.M. -- and she just wants the kids to freaking be in bed already.
So yes, my son is a brain. He is probably gifted. Friends ask me what my secret is to get him to love books and I honestly cannot take the credit. He has been a bookworm since 6 months old. I, however, ask them what their secret is to get their kids to pull up their own pants.
However.
He occasionally still poops in his underpants. He cannot get himself dressed, get his shoes on (or sometimes even off), or brush his teeth without help. He still struggles to jump properly. He rarely eats with utensils. I still wipe his hands and face clean after meals. He will probably sleep in a pull-up until he is 7, and I cannot fathom the day when he successfully wipes his own bottom.
Most of the fault is mine for his short-comings. Like most 3-year old little boys, he is impatient and easily distracted. While getting dressed, he is looking around the room, pointing at things, telling me stories, and I have to remind him over and over to concentrate and focus on getting himself dressed. I will hand him his shoes and tell him to get them on (or at least attempt); upon my return 3 minutes later, he is doing a puzzle on the floor, shoeless. Most of the time when I try, really commit to making him learn to do these things himself, it is the day my 15-month old becomes extra clingy. While "patiently" teaching him how to properly wash his own hands, she is pulling my pants down or trying to climb into the toilet. He is also a horrible eater, so often I am so happy to see him eat meat and a vegetable, that I pretend not to notice him shoveling it all into his mouth with his hands like a 3-year old neanderthal.
So what does Mommy too often do? She just does things for him. She puts his shoes on for him. She dresses him, cleans him up, wipes his butt. She helps him brush his teeth because half way through doing it himself, he starts adding up all of the fish on the shower curtain -- and it is 30 minutes past his bedtime --and Mommy has been up with the kids since 5:30 A.M. -- and she just wants the kids to freaking be in bed already.
So yes, my son is a brain. He is probably gifted. Friends ask me what my secret is to get him to love books and I honestly cannot take the credit. He has been a bookworm since 6 months old. I, however, ask them what their secret is to get their kids to pull up their own pants.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Prayers
Not only does my son have a mom, a dad, a sister, 2 grandmas, 2 grandpas, 1 great-grandma, 7 uncles, 6 aunts, and 13 cousins to pray for every night, but the list has also extended to include the following "friends":
Nemo, Dory, Buzz, Woody, Wall-E, Eve, Wilson, Brewster, Koko, Thomas, Edward, Gordon, Percy, Rocky, Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Pluto, Goofy, Pete, Professor Von Drake, and ClaraBelle.
I hope they all know that they have a special place in heaven according to our 3-year old.
(If any of these names are foreign to you, consult any parent of a 3-year old little boy for reference.)
Nemo, Dory, Buzz, Woody, Wall-E, Eve, Wilson, Brewster, Koko, Thomas, Edward, Gordon, Percy, Rocky, Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Pluto, Goofy, Pete, Professor Von Drake, and ClaraBelle.
I hope they all know that they have a special place in heaven according to our 3-year old.
(If any of these names are foreign to you, consult any parent of a 3-year old little boy for reference.)
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
The police report
Upon discovering an ocean of pee on the bathroom floor:
Me: "How did this happen?"
My 3-year old son: "The pee came out of my penis and went all over the floor."
Me: "I see that. I mean, why is the pee not in the potty?"
Him: "Because I was standing here while the pee came out."
Me: "Ok. Why weren't you sitting on the potty when the pee came out?"
Him: "Because I ran out of time. There is no more pee in my penis now, Mommy."
Me: "How did this happen?"
My 3-year old son: "The pee came out of my penis and went all over the floor."
Me: "I see that. I mean, why is the pee not in the potty?"
Him: "Because I was standing here while the pee came out."
Me: "Ok. Why weren't you sitting on the potty when the pee came out?"
Him: "Because I ran out of time. There is no more pee in my penis now, Mommy."
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