day one: monkey style

My Little Monkey,

Today, I decided to undertake a grand adventure with you. You threw away your diapers, and we took a step toward being a big boy. I just went back and read the entry from the first night we did this with your brother, and all I can say is you are a much easier child sometimes.

You turned two about 3 weeks ago, and I decided we should try this whole potty business with you. Since our method involves staying home for (at least) 3 days straight and we're always on the run, it seemed a good time to hunker down and get it done. You had shown no real interest in using the potty besides using it as a chair while fully dressed. You did tell me once before you had to go, and I managed to get you there on time. That was about a month ago and a total fluke.

I'm not sure why I wasn't as stressed with you as I was with your brother. Perhaps because I knew it was a stage and the first day was going to be emotionally draining. Perhaps because your big brother was testing his boundaries and my frustration had another direction. Perhaps because I'm already dreaming of the facebook status that tells the world 2011 is the last year of diapers for our family.

Daddy is "home", but he's in month 2 of shift work so we don't see him awake very often. He was quite surprised to come home from work and find you running around in a t-shirt, baby legs and real undies. Daddy was nice enough to order pizza since I was so focused on keeping our floor as clean as possible.

Our biggest issue was getting you to go to the bathroom at all. I stuffed you full of juice, gave you some salty food to make you drink some more, and offered some more milk and water.

Bear caught on halfway through day 2. I have no idea when in this 3 day process it will click for you. You did stop yourself after a little dribble tonight. You wouldn't go once you were on the potty, but you at least knew you weren't supposed to use the floor for that. I know you though, Monkey. I have become a master on bodily functions in my 4 years of mothering. I knew you had to poop, waited until you could not go back, and pushed you into your potty chair. You weren't a fan of Momma wrestling you in, but you did like the sticker and cookie reward after.

I can't wait for what tomorrow is going to bring. I know we'll be able to do this, and I am so happy to be able to stay at home and do it with you.

Love,

Momma

face the rear

The AAP updated their guidelines for car seats today. They now suggest that children rear face (look out the back of a car instead of the windshield) until they are 2 years old.

I posted a link to the Chicago Tribune article on Facebook last night. I was shocked at the immediate strong negative reactions. Why are so many moms against safety? People commented that their legs looked smushed and that their kid would have hated it.

Our parents didn't wear seat belts when they were kids. They survived. Is this evidence that seat belts don't work? Should we all demand that the government is crazy for recommending them?

Children's joints are different than adults'. How many times have you seen a kid sleeping in a way that looks completely awkward and uncomfortable? They like small spaces. Their legs will not be broken. (I've heard that there has never been a documented case of a child breaking a leg because they were rear facing. I can't find any proof of this right now though.) Besides, you can fix a broken leg. You can not fix a broken spine.

Just because you survived or your older children survived does not matter.

What should matter is if you were ever in a car accident rear facing keeps your child safer. 5 times safer. While you might be proving a point by switching your child forward facing at a year and 20 pounds, is that really a point worth making? Is the potential of that choice being responsible for killing your child worth it? No one is trying to control you or your child. They're trying to keep your baby safe. In a way that requires no extra money or effort.

Parenting is full of making your kids unhappy. Of not doing the "fun" thing. I think my mom told me when I was about 16 that it was her job to make me unhappy. Her job was to make me safe and unhappy.

Each parent has the right to make their own choice.

Just make it an informed choice.

rough

Yesterday was a rough day. More honestly, 11 am until 11:15 was an excruciating 15 minutes. The kind of 15 minutes that can ruin an entire day.

Bear had gone to a friend's house to play while I had taken Monkey to his tumble class.

Monkey and I went in to get him. He refused to leave. Like no joke bones turned to jello, laying on the floor and screaming.

I tried to be patient with him. I finally got his shoes and coat on and grabbed Monkey. We've just stepped outside when Bear loses it again.

Screaming at me.

In the middle of the street.

In the pouring rain.

I can't just walk away. He's in the middle of the street.

I can't pick him up and carry him. I holding a squirmy Monkey and Bear is thrashing about.

A car starts coming down the street.

So I screamed at Bear. As loud and as harshly as I could.

I told him to get in the car. I told him to stop embarrassing me. I told him he was being hateful and I was done putting up with it.

I strapped them in their car seats and climbed in. And, then I cried. I made my 3 year old cry. I had lost control of him and myself. I was showing it was okay to scream and be hurtful when you're upset.

I had failed.

A few hugs, two apologies and a few hours later, we were back to normal. We're learning this 3 year old thing together. This is my first time parenting a 3 year old boy and it's his first time being one. We're going to have some mistakes along the way. We're going to have some hurt feelings. That's how it goes. It's my job to raise him up. I remind myself it's a process that takes years. God has chosen me to be his momma. And as long as we have love and forgiveness, we'll be just fine in the end.

kindergarten

Today, we had Bear's first parent-teacher conferences.

He's in pre-school so it wasn't exactly hard core. It was the first time that trained people sat me down and talked about his development. His doctor goes over a few milestones at each well child appointment, but it's always been a "does he do this? okay" type of discussion.

It was weird to have someone give me goals for him. A written list of the things he does well and the things he doesn't. While I might have a been a bit defensive, I think I'm okay with admitting his weaknesses.

Here in the state of Connecticut, the cut off date for starting kindergarten in January 1st. Kids have to be 5 by the January half-way through the school year in order to start. Bear is a December baby so he would be one of the youngest in his class.

We don't have to decide now, but I had wanted to bring up the conversation. He'll only have one more year of pre-school before he starts, and I didn't know if he should be put in with the 4s instead of the 3s.

The teacher commented that she has a November daughter and was told to hold her back because she wasn't able to socially assert herself. That's a fancy way of saying she was shy. She would quietly ask someone to play and if they didn't respond, she would happily play by herself.

And, that's why she didn't start kindergarten until she was 5 and a half.

Since when is being shy an awful trait? Why must every child love playing in large groups and always voice their opinions? This isn't even my kid, and I'm all worked in a tizzy.

It hurts my heart to know that such a stereotype exists. Why can't we just let each kid be himself?

puritan

A friend this question on Facebook:

Is it okay for a teacher to say "Stop flirting with so-and-so" to a student?

There were tons of responses from mothers saying it should only be done in private, and it's embarrassing to students.

Yes, it is embarrassing. Isn't that the point? The embarrassment ends the behavior.

Am I the only one that thinks shame and embarrassment are fine tactics? I'm not talking excessive amounts here, but the occasional comment and guilt trip are fine in my book. Does anyone else remember the Texas jails that issued the pink jumpsuits? It worked.

I was raised by guilt. My only lasting consequences are my unnecessary apologizes.

It makes me feel like I belong in a Puritan society. Scarlet As are a way better deterrent than prenups.

remember

He won't be this little for long.

He won't want to snuggle me so tight for long.

He won't pick to only be with me for long.

He will always be my baby boy.

Head over to Emily's post to find more pictures of mommas and their babes.

fear

Bear and I had quite the rumble today. He's three. And his daddy's son (translation: very stubborn).

He's a smart kid. I'm not saying he's the next Einstein, but he can hold is own among the pre-school crowd.

Our battle today was about him counting to 10. He can count way beyond 10 so this wasn't a difficult task. It was just a task he didn't want to do.

I was shocked at the frustration and anger that he brought out in me today. I'm normally fairly patient with his meanderings, and I know how to get him motivated.

Once he was in bed and looking like an angel fast asleep, I was mulling over today. Why did it get me so upset? Why was I letting a 3 year old's need to be in charge run my day? I'm the parent here. Right?

Then, I realized he had tapped into my biggest fear.

A dumb kid.

No. I was a Special Ed aid during college vacations. I loved some of those sweet kids.

A lazy kid. A kid that doesn't try. A kid that doesn't want to be smart.

Then, I talked to my mom and was reminded that he's 3. And, he'll grow out of that.

mean mommy time

Tonight is the night.

The same night we had almost exactly 2 years ago in this same house.

I'm taking away Monkey's pacifier. He's 13 months old, and I know he'll be fine. He's way more attached to his paci than Bear was. I was very strict with Bear; he only had it at naps and bedtime by now. Monkey has it in the car, too. And, when I'm pushing his nap time and trying to accomplish more than is fair to him.

He's having his last paci nap right now. Then we'll go on a paci hunt and collect them all. They go in a bag with some stinky diapers and it goes out to the curb. Tomorrow is garage day so there's so going back.

I'm emotionally preparing myself for the crying tonight. Hopefully, by the time Hubby is home for the weekend the fussing will be all done.

Here's hoping.

birthday presents

We have a birthday season in our house. From the middle of October to the end of the year, we are slammed with birthday parties and celebrations. Monkey and Bear both have birthdays at the start of December which only adds to the festive season.

Bear really is a birthday fan. He is 100% my son and can't get enough balloons and cake.

In our attempt to teach Bear about Christmas, we pitched it as Jesus' birthday. He knew that Jesus was born a long time ago in a far away place. (Bear asked if it was a car ride or a long plane ride away.) He learned his momma's name was Mary, and there were lots of animals. The closest we got to explaining a manger was like a big Puppy dish.

We went to the family church service where they had a birthday cake and sang Happy Birthday to Jesus. I told him that Jesus gave really good goody bags.

Christmas morning, we woke up and he was enchanted by the presents. We also do Santa and Bear was so stinking excited.

Right before bedtime, he got a serious look on his face. He came up to me and in the innocent voice of a 3 year old he asked me what we getting Jesus for his birthday.

It's taken me a little bit to figure out what kind of present we could give Jesus this year. The stereotypical volunteering at a soup kitchen thing doesn't work with a 3 year old and a 1 year old. We have an abundance of stuff. Stuff we don't use. Stuff we don't need. Stuff other people could use and do need.

Every Sunday, we will be dropping off a bag. I know it's not giving much and right now it's embarrassingly easy to get rid of things. I'm hoping that by the time bag 52 rolls around, we'll have streamlined our life and helped someone.

Not the biggest gift for Jesus. But, I think he's the type to appreciate everything.

naked momma

What age is it weird for a parent to change in front of the opposite gender child?

Obviously, when you have an itty bitty baby finding time to change your clothes at all (or caring that you're wearing the same yoga pants for the last 3 days) is a miracle. I personally am super uncomfortable with the idea of changing in front of a 16 year old son.

The Bear is almost 3. For the last few months, I've been making sure he's not in the room when I change. Should he walk in (because he's 2 and doesn't have the greatest awareness of personal boundaries) I don't scream or make a big fuss.

What age makes you uncomfortable? Is it difference for a son/mother than a daughter/father?

teeth

Monkey is teething. It's rough. Like crazy, insane, makes me want to hide in the closet rough.

His first tooth finally came through Saturday. The second one is almost all the way through.

He's in a lot of pain. The mellow child could currently be in a commercial for colic. He's been up since 2 am screaming in pain. The only times he's hushed where while I was nursing him.

I've done the Orajel. I've done the cold washcloth. I've done the pressure on his gums. I've done the magical melting tablets.

The only thing left recommended by google is whiskey. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. The Bear was a bad teether; this is nothing new. He did get comfort from the other things though. Nothing seems to be helping. The constant crying breaks my heart (and hurts my head).

I really try to limit the chemicals and yucky things that get into the boys bodies. Which is worse? Whiskey-ed qtips on the gums or being in that much pain for that long? If anyone can find actual evidence that the alcohol is bad, please pass it along.
When my grandma suggested it for The Bear I thought she was insane. Now, I just might be insane.

sahm

We've been having lots of fun family times lately. It's so weird to have Hubby home and not have the boat home. It's actually slightly amazing and giving us a taste of what shore duty will be like.

Since Hubby is actually awake in the evenings and able to have a coherent conversation, we've been doing a lot of planning and dreaming and just generally trying to figure out where our lives are going.

I love being a SAHM. Insanely hard and much harder than expected for sure. I like that I know my children though. I know how they think and can typically predict their behavior. They grow up so quickly and I don't want to miss it. My opinion is that I would gladly give up some luxuries now to be able to be such a part of their daily memories.

How long can you be a SAHM before it's just weird? I would like to point out that being a mom is only part of my job. I'm also a cook, maid, laundress, personal shopper, dog walker . . . once the boys are bigger I know I'll be adding chauffeur to that list. I had a friend in high school who was an only child and her mom still stayed at home. Then, she went to college. Her mom still stayed at home.

I am in no way putting down SAHMs of bigger kids. I also want to feel useful in life. So what's the cutoff? Where does it cross the line? I'm sure if you have family with disabilities this could also change the age.

jump

Let me start with reminding you (and myself) that I love my child.

This story is reason 4,378 why planning ahead really just creates more work for me.

Saturday, I realized Hubby's car hadn't been driven in a while. It had been about 3 weeks which is really longer than I had intended. The Bear has a car seat in it, but I have to switch The Monkey's over to drive it. It really was just a hassle I didn't want to deal with.

It was nice weather and the boys were both in relatively good moods when we got home Saturday afternoon. I decided to pull Hubby's car over and switch The Monkey's car seat so it would be all ready for us to go to church today.

I pulled Hubby's car into the drive way (he parks it across the street since we live in a duplex and only have a one car driveway/garage. I opened up all the doors to air it out while I was installing the car seat. The Bear climbed into his car seat and had fun in "dada's ar". He thinks he's a big shot now that he can get into the seat by himself.

I went to sleep proud of myself for being so well prepared and saving us from the inevitable Sunday morning rush.

This morning, we get ready and are on way to early church on time. Does this ever happen? I get the boys both in their seats and go to start the car.

It sounds funny, but I'm not really paying much attention to the car because The Bear is screaming for his Cheerios.

I put the car in reverse and realize we're going backwards. But, only because our driveway has a slight hill. The engine is off and thus the gas pedal (and power steering) has no effect.

I stop the car halfway into the street. Turn it off. Try again. And again. And again for good measure. I then get the boys out of the car. We live on a quiet street, but I'm not a fan of leaving them hanging out in the middle of it.

Call a friend who is amazing and comes over in 10 minutes to help me jump it. She teaches me how to jump a car.

I take it an auto place and they check the battery. They said it's fine. Something was a bit low, but nothing major. They asked if it had sat for awhile, and I'm silently cursing myself for letting it sit there for 3 weeks.

Come home because we have now obviously missed church. Hang out at home all day.

Tonight, I was taking The Puppy out and saw the light on in the car.

The back lights. The ones right by The Bear's car seat. The ones he can reach when he's getting into this seat.

The ones that he turned on Saturday and caused the battery to die.

The ones that stayed on all of Sunday and caused the battery to die again.

I went inside to grab the keys to check to see if I could start the car. Nope. It was indeed dead again.

We'll be jumping the car again tomorrow morning.

And, checking the car lights every time we exit the car.

too fast

There have already been a million and two times when I'm glad that both my kids are boys. It just seems . . . easier?

I think there's an overprotective part of parenting that makes boys easy. Bikinis on little girls drive me nuts. Short shorts are gross. Keep that little baby skin covered up, please. It made me sad to realize that size 7 girl shorts are shorter than The Bear's 2T shorts. Seriously.

I'm all for fun momma & daughter bonding. Spa days aren't in the future for the boys and me. I did find it a bit odd that moms seem to be taking itty bitties to get their nails done. What age is it appropriate to get a manicure or pedicure? No experience on this one; I just think 2 and 3 seems so young.

Are little girls growing up too fast? Or am I not going fast enough?

mattering

You know those days that diapers and temper tantrums don't stop coming . . .



Remember you do matter. People are watching.

including MY momma

Taking pictures of me and the boys has made me look through old pictures of me and my momma. 99% of the pictures are back at their house so I'm sure there are more there. These are my favorites that were scanned into my computer. Don't mind the big glasses, acid washed jeans or bad haircuts. :-)

1985. I honestly have no idea who took this picture. This was when we were in the just the two of us stage. So glad she included herself.

1991. I was learning how to roller skate. I had also just had surgery and had 11 teeth pulled so smiling wasn't something I liked to do.

1992. We had whip cream fights when I was a kid. It involved paper plates full of whipped cream, lots of chasing each other, and huge messes.

2004. Oh yes. We're such goofs. We were on one of our last family vacations. I have no idea what we were doing besides being goofy in the hotel room.

1990. My favorite picture of all time of the two of us. Me and my momma.
Thanks for including yourself, Momma. I love you.

monotasking

I love MOPS. If there is one piece of advice I could give to all the mommies out there, it would be to find a local MOPS group.

As I've mentioned before, I get weekly emails with encouraging bits of mommy wisdom. A few weeks ago, the topic was monotasking. Not multitasking. Monotasking.

With the two littles, I am constantly juggling way more than I should be. The thing about doing 3,000 things at the same time is I do none of them well. None of them nearly as well as I could. And, I don't enjoy doing any of them. It's always a burden.

I've been working on this crazy concept of monotasking. Ignoring those dirty dishes in the sink, the toys all over the floor, all the "I should be"s . . . and instead enjoying the time with the little boys.

I'm raising little boys to be honorable men. That is where my attention and effort should be.

mother's day

Happy Mother's Day to all the mommas out there!

Today was a roller coaster of emotions at our house.

Kiddos slept well last night and no one made a peep until 7:45 am.

Not the most amazing thing ever, but I'll take any small victory I can get.

Got everyone dressed and ready earlier than we needed to be (which NEVER happens) so we were able to stop by Dunkin Donuts for a yummy treat before church.

I'm thinking today is going to be a pretty amazing day.

The Bear freaked out when I tried to drop him off at Sunday School.

I have no idea what has gotten into him the last week or so, but I am not a fan of the attitude shift. He didn't cry for long, but it was an all out emotional breakdown. I was outside the room, but listening to it broke my heart.

I did great at bell practice. We played at the late service today so I was wide awake and loving the spring song.

Hello, perfect day. You're back.

A friend from MOPS was snuggling The Monkey and went to change him for me during church.

Thank you, gift from God!

While my MOPS friend was changing The Monkey, The Bear escaped from the nursery and had a full out melt down. While I'm trying to console him, the bell choir begins playing. Without me.

Feeling like I suck at life. Screaming 2 year old. Check. Left the choir director scrambling for a last second substitute. Check.

Came home. Hubby has hidden cards for me about the house for while he's deployed. I get every Saturday and then on the special days - like Easter and Mother's Day. My mom gives me the clue for today. I hunt. It's not there.

Sad, depressed Stephanie lays on the floor and cries. Seriously feeling that suck at life thing.

Everyone naps. Quiet comes over the house. I have a moment to think and ponder. Remember that The Bear is 2. He is not a mind reader. He didn't know that I had plans and I needed him to be perfectly behaved for those exact 3 minutes. I am a mother first.

Guilt passes over me. In the grand scheme of life, some things don't matter. Having The Bear know he is my number one is what really matters.

Dinner with my mom and a MOPS mommy who also has her Hubby gone. Bubbling with pride that my 2 year old is the best behaved kiddo in the bunch. He's sitting still, eating his food, and filling me with love.

I did something right.

We end our day playing with trains and reading books. The Bear tells me twice that he has to use the potty (all that apple juice at dinner will do that to you). He's now gone 3 weeks without an accident!

Content and full of love for my family.

I'm nursing The Monkey for one last time before bed. The Bear comes running into my room. He throws himself at me with a hug and a kiss. "Happy Mama Day" and he's off to bed.

It was a pretty amazing day. Lots of love and a few momma lessons along the way.

dinosaur momma

I nurse The Monkey. I breastfeed The Bear until he was about 13 months, and I plan on doing the same thing this time.

Because there is only one of me and two children that tend to need my attention at the exact same time, I nurse The Monkey in front of The Bear. I don't make a big deal about it. I just tell him Baby has to eat. When The Bear knows The Monkey is hungry, he'll bring me the boppy so I can feed him. He's 2 so I don't feel like it's anything inappropriate.

The Bear walked up to me holding his dinosaur and asked me to pick him up. I thought he just needed some love.

I picked him and tried to give him a hug.

The Bear shoves his dinosaur down my shirt. I pulled it out and asked him what he was doing. He said, "Dinosaur eat."

Apparently, I'm a dinosaur momma too.

day two & three

Holy moly! Saturday and Sunday sure were different than the emotionally exhausting Friday. I was afraid to post yesterday and jinx myself.

Saturday at 11:45 am The Bear told me he had to go potty. We scurried over and he went. Like immediately. It clicked. He woke up wet after his nap yesterday. But, he told me when he had to poop. (Sorry if this is over sharing for some people. It's a BIG deal in our world though.) He had one accident yesterday, but it was really more my fault than his. He stopped immediately and finished in the potty.

This morning he woke up dry after all night. This might be because The Monkey woke us both up at 6:30, but that's a whole other issue. He went all day today without an accident. Dry during naps. Told me before going every single time. I am so very proud of him.

He was completely in diapers on Thursday. And all the signs of readiness were non-existent. He woke up wet from naps and night time. He had no real interest in the potty. He didn't mind sitting in a wet diaper. 90% of the time he wouldn't even tell me after he had gone.

I'm sure there will be the occasional accident, but I'm declaring him potty trained tonight.

We loosely followed Lora Jensen's plan. It was exhausting the first day, but it really did happen in 3 days. Part of buying her ebook was pledging not to share her "secrets" with others. There were some helpful hints, but most of her advice I found free in other places online. She does have a help desk for parents that need some extra support. We also adapted the plan to fit us. Part of being a stay at home mom is knowing my children. Like knowing knowing and knowing what will work for them. We did a gradual progression of clothing. Friday, The Bear ran around with no bottoms and a big tshirt. Saturday was real undies. Today was fully dressed with real undies. (You have no idea how cute his little tush is in super hero unders though.) I also tracked the times he went and what happened. If he told me, if he finished on the potty, what he was doing . . . It really helped me to figure out his natural schedule so I knew when to anticipate him needing to go.

Tomorrow we're venturing out of the house for the first time since Thursday. I'm a little scared. He doesn't always give me the most notice, but it's a learning experience.

And, we'll have our potty with us and an extra change of clothes. Just in case :-)