stay at home mom

too much information

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Potty talk is in full swing at our house. We talk pee. We talk poop. We rejoice over every secretion that doesn’t soak Austin’s pants or land on the floor. We proudly clap as he literally shows us his latest drop off in the potty. It’s amazing how dull I have become to such disgusting discussion. And, that’s parenthood.

But, nothing quite prepared me for the new public embarrassment of potty training. When you introduce pee pee and poo poo into a toddler boy’s vocabulary, there is no filter on their mouth. And, the moment you frown at their potty talk, well, you’ve just fueled the fire. Let me replay our recent trip to the store.

As I push the boys in the basket through the store,

“Do tigers go poo poo?”

“Yes, honey.”

“Do Tiggers go poo poo?”

“Yes, Austin.”

“Do birds go poo poo?”

“Yes.”

“Do cars go poo poo?”

“Uh, no.”

“Cars do go poo poo.”

“Huh, okay then.”

“Does Everett go poo poo?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you go poo poo?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Does he go poo poo?” pointing straight to a man within earshot.

“Uh huhhh..” as we quickly turn down the nearest aisle.

“Do dogs go poo poo?”

I pause in silence trying to rack my brain as to why I am actually in this store. Funny. All I can seem to think about are body fluids. Yuck.

“Momma. Momma. MOMMA. Do dogs go poo poooo?”

“YES. Dogs go poo poo, too.”

He giggles, and, then, is distracted by a shiny object. Thank goodness for a toddler’s attention span. This buys me about five minutes to finish our trip. I wrap things up and proceed to check out, where, of course, there is a mile-long line. We wait, and I mentally go through my to-do list for the day. During this time, Austin has begun singing.

“Bye bye pee peeeeee. Bye bye pooooop. Bye bye pee pee. Bye bye pooop.”

To be honest, I’m pretty sure he was several choruses in before I really paid attention to what he was singing. By this point, we had quite the mixed audience of chuckles and disapproving glances. Oops.

We reach the cashier, and Austin is mesmerized by the candy. Awesome. One child distracted. Now, I just have to play keep away with my credit cards from Everett in the basket. I begin paying, and, out of nowhere, Austin is standing next to me. He proudly tells the cashier how he went poop in the potty. She nods awkwardly. And, then, Austin announces with no less pride that Momma also went poop. Fantastic.

TMI, Austin. Too. Much. Information.

drama for his momma

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I recently came across a link on Facebook with a photo montage of children crying and the absurd reasons causing the tears. I laughed because, like any other mother with toddlers in the house, we can relate. It’s been quite the emotional morning at our house so I give you our last five hours of why one or both of my children are crying…

* He woke up.

* I gave him the wrong cup.

* I said Yes.

* I said No.

* I looked at him.

* I wouldn’t let Everett eat an electrical plug currently in the wall.

* I wouldn’t let him climb the shutters.

* He doesn’t want to poop in the potty.

* He doesn’t want to wear pants.

* He wants to see Grambear, Nana, Kenneth, Grayson, Collier, Carson, along with every other person he has ever met in his life.

* Because I picked him up. Because I put him down.

* I wouldn’t let him cram his hand into my mouth.

* I wouldn’t let him eat my chapstick.

* Because the wall touched him.

* Because the clock said it was only 9 a.m. Oh wait. That was why Mommy was crying.

* Because I wouldn’t let Bambi go swimming IN the potty.

* Everett looked at Austin’s toys.

* Everett crawled near one of Austin’s toys.

* Everett tried to eat one of Austin’s toys.

* I dared to ask if he wanted to take a nap today.

* I put food on his plate.

* AND, his slippers that can go on either foot were on the “wrong” way.

Only seven hours until bedtime… Sheesh. I can only imagine what the afternoon will bring. I think it’s a two Sonic drink kinda day.

a foodie of sorts

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So, here’s the deal. Everett is an awful conventional eater. No surprise there since we struggled with bottle feedings and again struggled with the introduction of solids. Several months in occupational therapy, and he finally takes solids but it’s limited.

Oreos were the first actual solid he willingly took. And, for a while, they were a staple in his diet. From there, he began accepting other types of cookies and various crackers. Pretty sure those baby teeth are going to rot out from that menu.

Eventually, he welcomed cubed cheese and the occasional spoonful of oatmeal into his diet. And, that’s where it ended.

I’m not sure cookies, crackers, cheese, a scoop of oatmeal, and a liquid vitamin he often vomits back up would be considered a well-rounded meal. And, I can’t bear the pediatrician’s advice of only offering him what we are eating for each meal. Tried that. He eats nothing and then wakes up screaming and starving in the middle of the night. Something had to change. So, I got creative.

I scoured Pinterest looking for recipes incorporating hidden veggies and fruits and pulled out some of my old favorites from when Austin was younger. My tried and true recipes for Austin were not such a hit with Everett. Usually, they were tossed to the floor with Everett grinning ear to ear. He was taunting me. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Mom.”

Recipe after recipe, he rejected. I have cooked a lot over the last few weeks, and, really, I dislike cooking. Up until a few years ago, the extent of my culinary expertise was Mac ‘n Cheese… from a box, toast, and driving through Chick-fil-a. The hubby certainly didn’t marry me for my skills in the kitchen. But, since then, I have expanded upon that and can happily cook meals for my family (as long as it has less than five ingredients). I was determined to make something Everett would eat.

And, then one day, I discovered the “in” to Everett’s eating. Saltine crackers.

We started with peanut butter. He loved it, and we love that it’s an excellent source of protein. Score one for us. Several days passed, and I was feeling “daring.” I smothered the cracker in cottage cheese, expecting him to throw it back in my face. He ate it. And, another. And, another.

This is about the time I started brainstorming all the concoctions he might eat off a saltine cracker. After he tossed his banana for the 50th time, I tried mashing it up. I spread a chunky layer on the cracker and handed it back over. He surveyed this new paste then promptly beat it against the tray until all the banana had slid off. Score, Everett.

I gave him a couple days and tried again with the banana, but this time, making it a smoother paste. He devoured three banana crackers with no hesitation. The key is in the cracker.

Since then, we’ve used strawberries, turkey with melted cheese, and the most recent, green beans with melted cheese. So bizarre. It’s even more bizarre to me because this kid would not touch purees, and he still won’t. Unless it’s mashed on a saltine. Oy.

But, it could be worse. He could want everything atop an Oreo. Mmm… Veggie paste Oreos.

batman undies to the rescue

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Good news for us. Bad news for Pampers. Sorry, Pampers. My kid won’t be going to college in diapers after all. Release the confetti and pour Mommy a glass of Champagne. It looks like big man Austin is finally potty trained.

I’m not sure what changed to lead to this success – whether it was time, a new method, or truly by the grace of God. But, based on our previous experiences, I might chalk this one up to a miracle… or, the new Batman undies. Yep. Pretty sure it was the undies.

Our last attempt was in the fall. Frankly, after that bout, I was feeling chicken about trying again. We made lots of excuses about it not being the right time. I didn’t want to deal with meltdown after meltdown or mopping up tee tees and poo poos in the middle of the floor produced out of downright defiance. My sanity would not survive. So, we continued to put it off… until we received the registration paperwork for Austin’s Mother’s Day Out program for the fall.

Apparently, they are not interested in changing diapers on three- and four-year-olds next year. Ha. I can’t imagine why. For Austin to move up, he has to be potty trained. And, not “We’re working on it” potty trained, but experienced potty trainer. That’s the kick I needed. As soon as he recovered from the flu, we started training. Cue the Rocky theme song.

I borrowed “Potty Training 1-2-3” from a friend that recently had success potty training her son. And, I loved it! If you are having trouble potty training, pick this book up. Now. The method around the book is primarily rewarding your child for staying clean and dry, not for producing on the potty. Obviously, you still reward for using the potty, but it’s not the emphasis. Most of the methods we had tried focused on using the bathroom. That was a dead end for Austin. Once he decided he didn’t want to sit on the potty, it was a lost cause and power struggle. This methods puts the control in our hands and sets him up for success.

Don’t get me wrong. It was still hard and frustrating, even with a method that seemed to work for Austin. We didn’t leave the house for two days, and in that time, we focused on Austin and patience (LOTS of patience), and attempted to keep Everett from climbing on, playing in and eating the potty chair.

Plus, we watched The Potty Movie on constant repeat for 48 hours. I’m quite certain I will never be able to rid the tune or images of toddlers singing “Bye bye pee pee. Bye bye poop” from my head. Ah, parenthood.

But, a successful weekend has led to a triumphant week. He’s still not 100 percent trained, but there are rarely accidents and he no longer pees on himself when I announce it’s time to sit on the potty in an effort to avoid sitting on it. Progress, people. Progress.

This child will be attending school next year.

an impromptu graduation

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For six months, I have barely seen the hair on my child’s head. My kisses to his forehead have been blocked. Snuggles to his cheek have been interrupted by cold, hard plastic. And, I have been head butted… a lot.

But, last week, we said goodbye to all of that. Goodbye to the melon. Goodbye to the DOC band. Six months gone and done. Everett is helmet free. Hallelujah!

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We pushed through the thousand-degree days in August… and September, and our trip to the beach where that helmet couldn’t get wet. We battled many sleepless nights in the beginning. We bit the bullet and paid for a second helmet completely out of pocket. We celebrated Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and birthdays in the helmet. For six months, that little boy wore a helmet 23 hours a day.

But, it’s all over, and what a beautiful head he has.

The first day free of head gear, I kissed his sweet head at least a thousand times. I rubbed my face against his. I covered him in kisses, and I ran my fingers through his soft, silky hair over and over. How I’ve missed these last six months.

It’s taken about a week for Everett to adapt without his extra protection. The slightest bump of the head sent him wailing into meltdown mode, and that first day, there were lots of tears. Dramatic, much? Now, when Austin decides to smack him over the head with a toy or he face plants into the floor, you usually hear me gasping as opposed to him screaming. I think he’s back to being fearless.

What a journey it has been, and I’m thankful to bring this chapter to a close. Here’s to no more helmet head butts and smothering my sweet boy in uninterrupted smooches.

wrapped around his finger

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Potty training has been stalled for the last few months. The best advice given was to give it a rest, since, obviously, we were getting no where in September. We’ve left it up to Austin, and he is happy as can be wetting himself.

I’m getting antsy. Every way I turn I’m changing a diaper. And, even though, it’s nearly nine months away, I’m already feeling stress about the potty training requirement for him to move up to the next preschool class. Because, honestly, I feel like it will never happen.

Then, out of nowhere, there was interest.

The other morning, we were prepping for the day. Austin and I were brushing our teeth while Everett snacked on a toothbrush. Austin stops, looks at me, and says, “I want to go potty.”

Spit dribbled from my mouth as I looked at him in disbelief. “Really??”

“Yeah. I want to use the potty.”

I throw my toothbrush into the sink and grab the nearest potty chair. “Okay,” I said, trying to reign in the excitement. I place it in front of him and proceed to help him with his pants.

He looks at it with disgust. “Not that one, Mommaaaa. I want that potty. The big potty.”

Fair enough. “Okay, let’s use that one!”

I lead him toward the potty when he stops. “Here you go, buddy.”

“No,” he mumbles and walks away, leaving me dumbfounded with potties everywhere and toothpaste still in my mouth.

Touché, son. You have me wrapped around your finger, and, apparently, it was necessary to prove it that day.

I am so over potty training.

creative baby proofing

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When Austin was a baby, we kind of slacked in the baby proofing department. Sure, we covered the outlets, and we used a baby gate as needed. And, of course, all cleaners and hazardous materials were placed safely from his reach. But, that was the extent of it.

He opened and closed cabinets at his whim, pots and pans all a strew. I cringe looking back at the death trap of a coffee table we had. And, it took me entirely too long to part ways with the various fragile decor around the house.

But, during the peak age of baby proofing, our house was on the market… for a year. I can tell you right now that hundreds of latches on every single door in your home don’t make for promising showings. So, we made do without.

Here we are with Everett in the throes of curiosity and mischievousness. He is mobile and fast, and I feel like I’m a first time parent again. A new house and new obstacles.

I think it’s safe to say we need to look at some more traditional methods.

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We need new baby gates. Ones for stairs and one for wide openings. We need latches for cabinets and potties, and more outlet covers. Forget plugging anything in to visible outlets. Everett will find them and try to eat them. Really, I could just use another set of eyes… and hands.

Looking back, I can’t fathom how we survived without baby proofing every square inch of our house when it seems so necessary now. Perhaps that’s the difference in one versus two kids. It’s hard to keep a constant eye on two moving objects that rarely coincide with the same direction.

Over the years, I’ve had multiple people, including strangers, tell me that Austin is the most active child they’ve seen. I’m never sure if that’s a compliment or code for GOOD LUCK! But, as Everett becomes more and more mobile, I’m not sure that he isn’t going to follow big bro’s lead. He is on the move. He is quick. And, he is up to no good.

No more waiting. Time to corral these kiddos.

Any recommendations on your favorite brands or items for baby proofing?

the Christmas tree

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In 2008, we celebrated our first Christmas as a wedded couple. Less than three weeks prior to that, we closed on our first home. Despite towers of cardboard boxes and a completely disheveled home, we still put up our first Christmas tree.

It was beautiful. It was adorned with delicate glass balls gleaming in purples, reds, blues, silvers and golds. Gifts of Christohper Radko and Wedgewood ornaments were our extra special contribution to the tree. And, perfectly wrapped presents created a wreath beneath it. We snuggled under a warm blanket together, sipped our hot chocolate and admired our first tree in peace.

Three years later, we had a freshly mobile one-year-old. Austin’s interest in the tree was short-lived, but long enough that the Christmas tree received its first remodel. Our precious CR and Wedgewood ornaments were elevated to the penthouse of the tree, safe from curious hands. Amazingly, only one gift huddled beneath the tree required a re-wrap that year.

In 2012, the remodel turned more into a renovation. Not a single glass ornament made it on the tree that year. Bless Costco and their extra large tubs of plastic ornaments. I truly believe they were tested by toddlers. Unbreakable. I tried whole-heartedly to have gifts underneath the tree that year, but, in the end, I re-wrapped every single gift at least once. Ironically, when Christmas morning came, we had to coax Austin to open all of his gifts. Rule #1 of kids: Nothing is nearly as much fun with your parents’ permission.

Another year. Another change. Our Christmas tree went up the day after Thanksgiving. No glass ornaments again. They are safely stored for a less destructive age. The tree went up perfectly, and it looked as though we would have a similar tree to last year’s… until today.

I walked into the living room to find Austin nestled next to the tree. He had removed one of the cushions from the chairs, and there in front of him, he had lined up a number of ornaments from the lower extremities of the tree. He smiled at me, and proudly showed off his collection. A few moments later, I spot Everett bounding after a giant, glittery ornament much like a puppy. In fact, when he finally captured it, he celebrated by attempting to eat it, despite it being the size of his own head.

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So, this year, I have two options. I can remove the bottom half of the ornaments, or I can let it be. This is the year my tree becomes our family tree, and I’m just going to let it be.

What a transformation we have seen over the years. As we change, so does our tree. The Christmas tree tells our story. It’s messy, imperfect and a little rough in spots. But, it’s always colorful. It’s always bright, and it is well loved. Ornaments will come and go, but the precious moments we share as a family beneath this little tree will carry on.

That first Christmas seems ages ago. No longer is there the same peace and quiet surrounding the Christmas tree. There is something better. There are snuggles, sweet giggles and wonderment from two precious boys that far outweigh the quiet. It’s a different kind of peace.

I love our tree. I love its story, and I love that it is ours.

Merry Christmas from our family to yours this Christmas season.