1. If you're of the male variety, read no further. Let me drop a few words to stop you in your tracks: "period." "cramps." "hormones." There. Now that hopefully all the males that would even consider reading this blog have stopped, I'll begin my rant on my detestation of these things. Grrrr. I suppose I had gotten spoiled. Seriously, I had gone just a little over two and a half years with just one visit from Aunt Flo. (back to back pregnancies will afford you such luxuries...) "Out of sight, out of mind" is a good way to describe how I was feeling toward this whole process and now that it's back, absence had definitely not made the heart grow fonder. I must admit, I'm not a horrible cramper, don't writhe in pain for days, and don't turn in to a she-devil (that I know of); I just don't like the way I feel overall when the ol' "semi-colon" comes to town. (That's what my grandfather, father of five daughters, chose to call it.) It's almost like I walk around in a daze, running on about two cylinders. I guess I must give my thanks to breast feeding. It did get me eleven extra months, after all. But despite the fact that I haven't stopped breast feeding, my body decided it was time to get back to the real world. Actually, I'm pretty sure that I'm cut from a fertile fold of fabric and my body thinks it should be in reproduction mode at all times. Sheesh. At least I don't have it as bad as my poor, poor cousin. She is exclusively breastfeeding her five-month-old and her "friend" has already returned! She must be cut from a double piece off the same bolt. I think I'd put my fist through a wall.
2. I love Target. Really, if I could have a shopping spree to any store in the world, I would pick Target. A few days ago while working at my sewing machine, I had a day dream where I was given thirty minutes to run through Target and get anything I wanted. I literally sat there while sewing and plotted out the path I would take through the store. Where I'd start, where I'd go next, which items I just had to included, and which items would be great, but not necessities. The whole process came complete with a team of people with carts running behind me to catch everything I threw over my shoulder. It was awesome. And it ended with a large Slurpee. Mildly disturbing considering this was not an actual dream and I was completely awake while thinking through this entire trip. Surely I've now scared the rest of you off. (since it should be just us girls reading, right?)
3. The product of the week needs just three words: Elmo's Potty Time. If you're potty training a little one or even considering it, go buy it. It's not expensive. And even if it was, it would be worth it. Even if your kid doesn't like TV. Even if you don't allow TV. This just might be a lifesaver for you like it was for me! Kolbe's not obsessed with it any more, but I'm considering framing it and hanging it above the boys' potty as a shrine of sorts. It's been automatically elevated to Asmussen Family Classic level. You know, up for several Oscars. (the Grouch, I suppose....)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Adventures in Potty Training
As of tomorrow, we will have officially reached the two week mark with no diapers for Mr. Kolbe Alexander. I'd like to call that officially potty-trained. Hopefully.
To say it has been an interesting few weeks would be an understatement. There have been definite highs (making it through mass, a visit to a friend's house, a trip to the store...accident free) and definite lows (mastering nap time, a poopy accident, and the not-so-accident accidents). Overall, I must admit that it has gone much smoother than I had expected it would.
I think we were destined for success simply based on the fact that Kolbe was more than ready to get started. For the past several months, Kolbe had been telling us whenever he had a poopy diaper. Charming, really. Then it got even more steam-shooting-from-ears inducing. He would tell us BEFORE he needed to go but would sit on the potty, get stage fright, put the diapie back on and go in it two minutes later. Grrr!
But dear sweet Uncle Brian and Aunt Cristi! Oh, how my heart beats for you! Cristi had e-mailed to ask what the boys wanted for Christmas and I simply mentioned that we would be starting Kolbe's potty training soon and he'd be needing some big boy undies. So not only did they buy Kolbe the cutest set of boxer briefs I've ever seen, but they also threw in the beloved Elmo DVD and a little potty training book. Now Kolbe has never been much of a TV watcher. He's a boy! He's much more in to action and playing than sitting down and focusing. He has certainly never been able to follow anything on the TV with a plot or significant amounts of talking. Way too much time and effort for him! But something about the Elmo Potty Time DVD really piqued his interest. It was the final piece that propelled him in to a full-fledged potty-going super star!
The first week was definitely the hardest. We went cold turkey style, just having Kolb walk around in undies and hoping we'd make it to the potty each time he needed to go. Frequent reminders really helped and we had few accidents. Still, the world literally revolved around the potty. Practice makes perfect, after all. And then there was that one lovely morning....
No sooner had I written my posted about my lovely door knob covers than I went in my bedroom for my five minute morning spruce-up and the grossest accident ever occurred. Knock, knock, knock on the door, "Mama!" Nothing out of the ordinary. "Mama!" This is my private time, kiddo. Be there in a sec. After all, I had just taken him to the bathroom a few minutes ago. He couldn't possibly need to go again. By the time I rejoined the troops, an ominous odor immediately told me what was up. Changing a poopy diaper is gross. Changing poopy underwear is grosser. Ugh.
And then there was the other day. There he sat on the potty doing his business. (and yes, by "business" I mean #2...he does the #1 standing up.) Reagan was fussing in the other room so I told Kolb I'd be right back. Not 20 seconds later he pattered in to the room with a nervous "Uh-oh. Uh-oh." I followed him back to the bathroom only to find that his interest in what was going on in the family room with Reagan and me had apparently overtaken his need to finish his business, so he had just slid right on off that potty to come see what was going on, leaving streaks of something special all along the potty and down his legs. Sweet.
But I have to say, the victories have been just as note-worthy too. Heck, today we were traipsing through WalMart and he told me he had to go in plenty of time to get to the front of the store, check out, and use the public bathroom. (Gross.) And the other day, we were all the way down on 19th Street (quite a way from our home) when he told me he had to go from the back seat of the car. I talked him through holding it on the ten minute drive home and we made it without a single leak. I don't even have to remind him to tell me any more. He's got it completely figured out!
The only problem will be the "non-accident accident." Kolbe has figured out that since he has full control of his faculties, he can use them to his advantage, should he decide to do so. For example, today he decided to rear back and hit is baby brother...
"Go to your room, Kolbe, and think about being nice to your baby brother," I told him. He trotted of, the lovely little obedient boy. Thirty seconds later he ran back in:
"Uh-oh. PeePee. Bed. Mama."
"No, Kolbe. You didn't go peepee in your bed today. You made it through nap time with no accidents! Remember? Good job!"
"No. Uh-oh. PeePee. Bed. Mama." He led me by hand to his room where, sure enough, he had sat right in the middle of his bed and let it all go. Knowing that he had just gone on the potty not ten minutes before, this was definitely a non-accident. Let's just say I couldn't force myself to clean it up right then. I literally had to walk away and cool down, I was so mad!
My little guy is growing up. He's gaining his independence and freedom. Really, it's kind of bittersweet. Sweet in that my always stinky diaper pail is suddenly not quite as bad. Sweet in that I now get to see the tiniest little pairs of undies in the wash. (and I mean TINY! Undies on a 24 pounder!) Bitter in that my baby isn't really a baby any more. And I hate it. But luckily, I've grown him in to something just as wonderful. Now, when I ask him if he's my baby he says, "No, RuRu. Baby." (Reagan's the baby.)
"So what are you, Kolbe?" I ask.
"Seet. Haht!" (Sweetheart!)
To say it has been an interesting few weeks would be an understatement. There have been definite highs (making it through mass, a visit to a friend's house, a trip to the store...accident free) and definite lows (mastering nap time, a poopy accident, and the not-so-accident accidents). Overall, I must admit that it has gone much smoother than I had expected it would.
I think we were destined for success simply based on the fact that Kolbe was more than ready to get started. For the past several months, Kolbe had been telling us whenever he had a poopy diaper. Charming, really. Then it got even more steam-shooting-from-ears inducing. He would tell us BEFORE he needed to go but would sit on the potty, get stage fright, put the diapie back on and go in it two minutes later. Grrr!
But dear sweet Uncle Brian and Aunt Cristi! Oh, how my heart beats for you! Cristi had e-mailed to ask what the boys wanted for Christmas and I simply mentioned that we would be starting Kolbe's potty training soon and he'd be needing some big boy undies. So not only did they buy Kolbe the cutest set of boxer briefs I've ever seen, but they also threw in the beloved Elmo DVD and a little potty training book. Now Kolbe has never been much of a TV watcher. He's a boy! He's much more in to action and playing than sitting down and focusing. He has certainly never been able to follow anything on the TV with a plot or significant amounts of talking. Way too much time and effort for him! But something about the Elmo Potty Time DVD really piqued his interest. It was the final piece that propelled him in to a full-fledged potty-going super star!
The first week was definitely the hardest. We went cold turkey style, just having Kolb walk around in undies and hoping we'd make it to the potty each time he needed to go. Frequent reminders really helped and we had few accidents. Still, the world literally revolved around the potty. Practice makes perfect, after all. And then there was that one lovely morning....
No sooner had I written my posted about my lovely door knob covers than I went in my bedroom for my five minute morning spruce-up and the grossest accident ever occurred. Knock, knock, knock on the door, "Mama!" Nothing out of the ordinary. "Mama!" This is my private time, kiddo. Be there in a sec. After all, I had just taken him to the bathroom a few minutes ago. He couldn't possibly need to go again. By the time I rejoined the troops, an ominous odor immediately told me what was up. Changing a poopy diaper is gross. Changing poopy underwear is grosser. Ugh.
And then there was the other day. There he sat on the potty doing his business. (and yes, by "business" I mean #2...he does the #1 standing up.) Reagan was fussing in the other room so I told Kolb I'd be right back. Not 20 seconds later he pattered in to the room with a nervous "Uh-oh. Uh-oh." I followed him back to the bathroom only to find that his interest in what was going on in the family room with Reagan and me had apparently overtaken his need to finish his business, so he had just slid right on off that potty to come see what was going on, leaving streaks of something special all along the potty and down his legs. Sweet.
But I have to say, the victories have been just as note-worthy too. Heck, today we were traipsing through WalMart and he told me he had to go in plenty of time to get to the front of the store, check out, and use the public bathroom. (Gross.) And the other day, we were all the way down on 19th Street (quite a way from our home) when he told me he had to go from the back seat of the car. I talked him through holding it on the ten minute drive home and we made it without a single leak. I don't even have to remind him to tell me any more. He's got it completely figured out!
The only problem will be the "non-accident accident." Kolbe has figured out that since he has full control of his faculties, he can use them to his advantage, should he decide to do so. For example, today he decided to rear back and hit is baby brother...
"Go to your room, Kolbe, and think about being nice to your baby brother," I told him. He trotted of, the lovely little obedient boy. Thirty seconds later he ran back in:
"Uh-oh. PeePee. Bed. Mama."
"No, Kolbe. You didn't go peepee in your bed today. You made it through nap time with no accidents! Remember? Good job!"
"No. Uh-oh. PeePee. Bed. Mama." He led me by hand to his room where, sure enough, he had sat right in the middle of his bed and let it all go. Knowing that he had just gone on the potty not ten minutes before, this was definitely a non-accident. Let's just say I couldn't force myself to clean it up right then. I literally had to walk away and cool down, I was so mad!
My little guy is growing up. He's gaining his independence and freedom. Really, it's kind of bittersweet. Sweet in that my always stinky diaper pail is suddenly not quite as bad. Sweet in that I now get to see the tiniest little pairs of undies in the wash. (and I mean TINY! Undies on a 24 pounder!) Bitter in that my baby isn't really a baby any more. And I hate it. But luckily, I've grown him in to something just as wonderful. Now, when I ask him if he's my baby he says, "No, RuRu. Baby." (Reagan's the baby.)
"So what are you, Kolbe?" I ask.
"Seet. Haht!" (Sweetheart!)
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Three Thought Thursday: Episode 3
1. My world has revolved around potty training this week. Three full days of "total submersion" into all things potty followed by several more days of getting used to participating in the real world in undies instead of a diaper. This includes everything from going at a friend's house, going at a restaurant, going at Target, and even going behind a tree at the park because Mama forgot the travel potty. Really, I've had to think about it non-stop because what self-respecting two-year-old boy would honestly want to spend his day doing that!?! Though I must admit, 9 times out of 10, he tells me when he needs to go. It's just that 10th time when I'm glad I reminded him.
2. Has anyone else been having problems with Blogger? Mine is behaving badly. I really don't like either of the blogging formats they offer. I usually end up bouncing back and forth between both formats just to be able to do what I want to do. Surely it's not that hard to come up with a blogging system that's user friendly! I hardly have time to get on and blog as it is, so when I do, I'd like for it to be a smooth, efficient process. Free time is precious, people! The last thing I want is for it to end with frustration! And if google can't do it, I may just have to go to a different system! Bahumbug!
3. This past summer I (finally) took up sewing after twenty-seven years of watching my mother do it on a regular basis. Really? It took that long? Yes. I had always wanted to learn how to sew but was one of the busiest high schoolers you could ever imagine and just never got around to learning. Then college came and it was more of the same. My parents got me a new sewing machine for my twenty-seventh birthday (which I absolutely LOVE) and I haven't turned back since. I love the feeling of actually producing something after a project is completed. And sometimes when the only thing going on with the boys in a day is total nonsense, making something with the machine is quite empowering!
Anyway, this "thought" is not about the love of my sewing machine. Yes, I love it dearly, but right now I'm just totally infatuated with my magnetic pin cushion. I supposed I just needed to give it the proper background story before I jumped in to discussing it's super powers. Prior to receiving this awesome gift from Abby for Christmas, I was using the good ol' tomato pin cushion where you have to physically push each pin into the cushion. The only problem was that as I would sew, I would pull out each pin and just set it on the table. Seriously, who wants to stop the machine to push each pin into the cushion?! Get real! So I would end up with a pile of pins on the table and then put them all back in the cushion at the same time. Inadvertently, there'd always be one (or seven) pins that would roll to the floor, under the table, across the room.... You get the point. Despite my efforts to track them down, there were constantly run-aways. Mark constantly was getting on to me when his magic eyes somehow tracked them down. But alas! A creation that solves this problem completely! The magnetic pin cushion zaps up any metal object that comes with in a foot of it. Seriously, drop a pin relatively close to it, and it sucks it right in! It even holds my thick, heavy, metal fabric scissors with no problem. I have several baby showers coming up so I've been sewing away in my free time (i.e. pretty much rarely, always during nap time, and certainly not more than 30 minutes a day...) and finally getting to use my new little gadget. Let me just say, it's awesome! If you sew, you need one of these! Especially if you have little ones. Their knees and hands will thank you! (or Aunt Abby!)
2. Has anyone else been having problems with Blogger? Mine is behaving badly. I really don't like either of the blogging formats they offer. I usually end up bouncing back and forth between both formats just to be able to do what I want to do. Surely it's not that hard to come up with a blogging system that's user friendly! I hardly have time to get on and blog as it is, so when I do, I'd like for it to be a smooth, efficient process. Free time is precious, people! The last thing I want is for it to end with frustration! And if google can't do it, I may just have to go to a different system! Bahumbug!
3. This past summer I (finally) took up sewing after twenty-seven years of watching my mother do it on a regular basis. Really? It took that long? Yes. I had always wanted to learn how to sew but was one of the busiest high schoolers you could ever imagine and just never got around to learning. Then college came and it was more of the same. My parents got me a new sewing machine for my twenty-seventh birthday (which I absolutely LOVE) and I haven't turned back since. I love the feeling of actually producing something after a project is completed. And sometimes when the only thing going on with the boys in a day is total nonsense, making something with the machine is quite empowering!
Anyway, this "thought" is not about the love of my sewing machine. Yes, I love it dearly, but right now I'm just totally infatuated with my magnetic pin cushion. I supposed I just needed to give it the proper background story before I jumped in to discussing it's super powers. Prior to receiving this awesome gift from Abby for Christmas, I was using the good ol' tomato pin cushion where you have to physically push each pin into the cushion. The only problem was that as I would sew, I would pull out each pin and just set it on the table. Seriously, who wants to stop the machine to push each pin into the cushion?! Get real! So I would end up with a pile of pins on the table and then put them all back in the cushion at the same time. Inadvertently, there'd always be one (or seven) pins that would roll to the floor, under the table, across the room.... You get the point. Despite my efforts to track them down, there were constantly run-aways. Mark constantly was getting on to me when his magic eyes somehow tracked them down. But alas! A creation that solves this problem completely! The magnetic pin cushion zaps up any metal object that comes with in a foot of it. Seriously, drop a pin relatively close to it, and it sucks it right in! It even holds my thick, heavy, metal fabric scissors with no problem. I have several baby showers coming up so I've been sewing away in my free time (i.e. pretty much rarely, always during nap time, and certainly not more than 30 minutes a day...) and finally getting to use my new little gadget. Let me just say, it's awesome! If you sew, you need one of these! Especially if you have little ones. Their knees and hands will thank you! (or Aunt Abby!)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Three Thought Thursday: Episode 2
1. So with my second posting of three weekly thoughts, I ran in to a little bit of a dilemma. I literally spent about five minutes while showering last night debating if I should keep track of how many I've done, what number I'm on, etc. I decided at the beginning of the year that I wanted to try to do this every week for one year. So that's 52 of 'em, right? Why not just say #1, #2, #3? Too boring. Next, I thought of calling them "issues" like a magazine. But Lord only knows that I already have plenty of "issues" of a different variety. Why add 52 more? So with the hot water running out, I decided on "episodes". While yes, episodes are often associated with television, it also sounded somewhat southern to me. And I miss southern. (no, Texas is not real southern. Mississippi is real southern.) I could just picture a Scarlet O'Hara lounging with her hand across her forehead having an "episode".
Did I seriously put that much thought in to this? Yes. Am I ridiculous? Yes. After all, I'm pretty sure that roughly three people read this on a regular basis. And two because they're forced to! My parents receive it via e-mail even though they never asked to, and my beloved cousin, Mandi, actually took sympathy on me and requested that I send it to her each time I post so that she could keep up with my musings. Bet she regrets that request now! And the third person? Who knows? Hopefully you're out there somewhere!
2. Want to know something crazy!?! I actually won our family's annual bowl pick contest. Me. Yes, me. The only team I actively followed this year was Tech. All my other picks were at complete random. Whichever team sounded cooler got the nod. I did great through new years and then not too well to finish out. But luckily, I had it in the bag by the afternoon of Jan. 1. Figured I should document it since it's more than likely never gonna happen again. And my prize? A whopping $35! Think I should splurge on a new diaper pail?!?! (Which by the way, my aforementioned cousin and I were discussing these vile things earlier this week and she mentioned that someone needed to create a stainless steel diaper pail so it wouldn't absorb the smell. Why hasn't anyone done this??? Anyone want to make me one???)
3. Last week I professed my love for my Swiffer Vacuum. (ahhhhh.) After some thought, I realized that I spend way too much time desiring new things for myself, my kids, or my house. Usually unnecessary things. So I thought maybe each week I could try to find one thing in my house that I like. Something that I’m thankful for. To make me appreciate what I do have and not lust after what I don’t! Of course, the things I appreciate the most are things I could never find the words to write about on a meaningless blog. So I’ll reserve this for things that I can find words for. Just plain old material things. Not supernatural things like my beloved husband, amazing children, or infinitely loving God.
So this week I think I’ll delve into my love of door knob covers. Yes, the ones that keep your kids from being able to open the door. With not the hugest house in the world, I didn’t think these would be a necessity, but with the mayhem that is Kolbe and Reagan, I made up my mind that it was time to make a few rooms in our house off limits: the laundry room (what, with all the cleaning supplies and my “second pantry,” it’s a breeding ground for disaster.), the office/guest room (Mark studies in there and his books are all over the place. Reagan managed to tear out a few pages of one of his more important volumes…), and our bedroom. For a long time running, the boys have always been allowed in our room. And even now, they still are at certain points in the day. But the fact of the matter is that it’s our room. Mark’s and mine. Not theirs! Every time one of them manages to weasel his way in there, it always ends with my dresser being emptied out, the bathroom cabinets being ransacked, the toilet water being splashed in, my shoes being set up across the length of the bed, or my nightstand being swept clean. There’s pretty much nothing in that room that either one of them needs; therefore, I decided it should be off limits.
So this limits their play to the kitchen, family room, hallways, and their bedroom. (and now that Kolbe goes on the potty, the hall bathroom, too.) If I had known how well the door knob covers would help control the chaos, I would have bought them a long time ago! And as an added bonus, I’ve taken up a practice of allowing myself five minutes every morning to get dressed, brush my teeth, and touch up my face sans the boys. Previously, with both boys in the room, it often took a good twenty minutes or more. I constantly had to stop to break up fights, take away bottles of shampoo, close dresser drawers, etc. Now, I can get the boys interested in something, sneak away to the room and be done in a flash. They usually realize I’m gone and are sitting outside the door waiting for me when I come out. Slightly pitiful, but worth it! Yea for door knob covers!
Did I seriously put that much thought in to this? Yes. Am I ridiculous? Yes. After all, I'm pretty sure that roughly three people read this on a regular basis. And two because they're forced to! My parents receive it via e-mail even though they never asked to, and my beloved cousin, Mandi, actually took sympathy on me and requested that I send it to her each time I post so that she could keep up with my musings. Bet she regrets that request now! And the third person? Who knows? Hopefully you're out there somewhere!
2. Want to know something crazy!?! I actually won our family's annual bowl pick contest. Me. Yes, me. The only team I actively followed this year was Tech. All my other picks were at complete random. Whichever team sounded cooler got the nod. I did great through new years and then not too well to finish out. But luckily, I had it in the bag by the afternoon of Jan. 1. Figured I should document it since it's more than likely never gonna happen again. And my prize? A whopping $35! Think I should splurge on a new diaper pail?!?! (Which by the way, my aforementioned cousin and I were discussing these vile things earlier this week and she mentioned that someone needed to create a stainless steel diaper pail so it wouldn't absorb the smell. Why hasn't anyone done this??? Anyone want to make me one???)
3. Last week I professed my love for my Swiffer Vacuum. (ahhhhh.) After some thought, I realized that I spend way too much time desiring new things for myself, my kids, or my house. Usually unnecessary things. So I thought maybe each week I could try to find one thing in my house that I like. Something that I’m thankful for. To make me appreciate what I do have and not lust after what I don’t! Of course, the things I appreciate the most are things I could never find the words to write about on a meaningless blog. So I’ll reserve this for things that I can find words for. Just plain old material things. Not supernatural things like my beloved husband, amazing children, or infinitely loving God.
So this week I think I’ll delve into my love of door knob covers. Yes, the ones that keep your kids from being able to open the door. With not the hugest house in the world, I didn’t think these would be a necessity, but with the mayhem that is Kolbe and Reagan, I made up my mind that it was time to make a few rooms in our house off limits: the laundry room (what, with all the cleaning supplies and my “second pantry,” it’s a breeding ground for disaster.), the office/guest room (Mark studies in there and his books are all over the place. Reagan managed to tear out a few pages of one of his more important volumes…), and our bedroom. For a long time running, the boys have always been allowed in our room. And even now, they still are at certain points in the day. But the fact of the matter is that it’s our room. Mark’s and mine. Not theirs! Every time one of them manages to weasel his way in there, it always ends with my dresser being emptied out, the bathroom cabinets being ransacked, the toilet water being splashed in, my shoes being set up across the length of the bed, or my nightstand being swept clean. There’s pretty much nothing in that room that either one of them needs; therefore, I decided it should be off limits.
So this limits their play to the kitchen, family room, hallways, and their bedroom. (and now that Kolbe goes on the potty, the hall bathroom, too.) If I had known how well the door knob covers would help control the chaos, I would have bought them a long time ago! And as an added bonus, I’ve taken up a practice of allowing myself five minutes every morning to get dressed, brush my teeth, and touch up my face sans the boys. Previously, with both boys in the room, it often took a good twenty minutes or more. I constantly had to stop to break up fights, take away bottles of shampoo, close dresser drawers, etc. Now, I can get the boys interested in something, sneak away to the room and be done in a flash. They usually realize I’m gone and are sitting outside the door waiting for me when I come out. Slightly pitiful, but worth it! Yea for door knob covers!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Horray!!!
I definitely wasn't planning on writing a post tonight, but I absolutely cannot resist!!!
Why? Because HE FINALLY DID IT!!! KOLBE FINALLY PEED ON THE POTTY!!!!!!!!!!
Can you tell that I'm a little bit excited??? For those of you with older kiddos, I'm sure you can remember the day when that first miraculous little trickle sprang forth from your little one into something other than his or her diaper. For those of you with little ones younger that mine, (or that haven't figured out the potty yet) just wait! It's awesome! You would think that we won the lottery or something!
Maybe it isn't that big of a deal. But for some reason, it is to me! Maybe it's that's I've been wiping Kolbe's dirty hiney for twenty-six months. Or maybe it's that I've been wiping two dirty hinies for the past eleven months! Either way, just the thought that only one in diapers is just around the corner literally made me go to the kitchen and pour myself a celebratory glass of wine.
As for potty training, we haven't even started yet. I originally planned on starting it back in October, but for one reason or another it has been put off and put off. I've decided that I want to do the three day "cold turkey" method where you basically let them run around nakie for three days, watching their every move, and rushing them to the potty the second you see either form starting to "emerge". I've had several friends with success in this method, so I thought I'd give it a try. That being said, it's almost a necessity to have a helper with this process since there's no way I can give Kolbe 100% of my attention with Reagan around. Since Mom is my elected helper, I've had to work around her schedule too, and we just haven't been able to get this started.
We finally decided on the end of this month so for the past week I've really begun to pour on the "potty talk" with Kolbe. Uncle Brian and Aunt Cristi gave him a potty DVD for Christmas that he just loves. He has several potty books that we read too. Every time we change his diaper we talk about how it's yucky and nasty and big boys don't have to go in their pants. He also gets to sit on his big boy potty or the real potty whenever he asks.
Tonight when he was getting out of the tub, he kept saying his hiney hurt. Since I knew he hadn't gone #2 all day and nothing had happened to make his hiney hurt, I assumed it might be bathroom related. We let him sit on the potty to no avail, but every time I told him it was time to get off and go get dressed for bed, he insisted on staying. I allowed him to stay on his little boy potty while I took Reagan to the other room to nurse.
Mark was in the office studying and I could hear Kolbe in there saying, "Dada, Dada." All of a sudden, Mark came running in to the family room saying, "He did it! He did it!" Around the corner they came, potty in hand with a lovely yellow liquid inside. We were all jumping up and down as if a miracle had happened. Being the disgusting mom I am, I even got out the camera! Apparently on his own, he finally decided to go and then took it to daddy to show him.
Ahem, I interrupt this blog post to bring you an update! Seriously, while I was typing this (and Kolbe was enjoying his reward for peeing of laying on the couch and watching his Potty DVD) he just decided to let off a poopy in his potty too! I am not even kidding you!!! I have pictures (that I won't disgust you and post) to prove it!!! He just up and decided that he needed to go and got up the courage to do it!!! And to add to that, after we flushed the poopy, he got right back on and went pee again. Is it possible that he could just all of the sudden figure this out? Can I go pour myself a second glass??? Am I bizarre for being so excited about this???
Why? Because HE FINALLY DID IT!!! KOLBE FINALLY PEED ON THE POTTY!!!!!!!!!!
Can you tell that I'm a little bit excited??? For those of you with older kiddos, I'm sure you can remember the day when that first miraculous little trickle sprang forth from your little one into something other than his or her diaper. For those of you with little ones younger that mine, (or that haven't figured out the potty yet) just wait! It's awesome! You would think that we won the lottery or something!
Maybe it isn't that big of a deal. But for some reason, it is to me! Maybe it's that's I've been wiping Kolbe's dirty hiney for twenty-six months. Or maybe it's that I've been wiping two dirty hinies for the past eleven months! Either way, just the thought that only one in diapers is just around the corner literally made me go to the kitchen and pour myself a celebratory glass of wine.
As for potty training, we haven't even started yet. I originally planned on starting it back in October, but for one reason or another it has been put off and put off. I've decided that I want to do the three day "cold turkey" method where you basically let them run around nakie for three days, watching their every move, and rushing them to the potty the second you see either form starting to "emerge". I've had several friends with success in this method, so I thought I'd give it a try. That being said, it's almost a necessity to have a helper with this process since there's no way I can give Kolbe 100% of my attention with Reagan around. Since Mom is my elected helper, I've had to work around her schedule too, and we just haven't been able to get this started.
We finally decided on the end of this month so for the past week I've really begun to pour on the "potty talk" with Kolbe. Uncle Brian and Aunt Cristi gave him a potty DVD for Christmas that he just loves. He has several potty books that we read too. Every time we change his diaper we talk about how it's yucky and nasty and big boys don't have to go in their pants. He also gets to sit on his big boy potty or the real potty whenever he asks.
Tonight when he was getting out of the tub, he kept saying his hiney hurt. Since I knew he hadn't gone #2 all day and nothing had happened to make his hiney hurt, I assumed it might be bathroom related. We let him sit on the potty to no avail, but every time I told him it was time to get off and go get dressed for bed, he insisted on staying. I allowed him to stay on his little boy potty while I took Reagan to the other room to nurse.
Mark was in the office studying and I could hear Kolbe in there saying, "Dada, Dada." All of a sudden, Mark came running in to the family room saying, "He did it! He did it!" Around the corner they came, potty in hand with a lovely yellow liquid inside. We were all jumping up and down as if a miracle had happened. Being the disgusting mom I am, I even got out the camera! Apparently on his own, he finally decided to go and then took it to daddy to show him.
Ahem, I interrupt this blog post to bring you an update! Seriously, while I was typing this (and Kolbe was enjoying his reward for peeing of laying on the couch and watching his Potty DVD) he just decided to let off a poopy in his potty too! I am not even kidding you!!! I have pictures (that I won't disgust you and post) to prove it!!! He just up and decided that he needed to go and got up the courage to do it!!! And to add to that, after we flushed the poopy, he got right back on and went pee again. Is it possible that he could just all of the sudden figure this out? Can I go pour myself a second glass??? Am I bizarre for being so excited about this???
Sunday, January 10, 2010
A Home Where Children Live
One of the things that has alarmed me the most about being a stay-at-home mom has been the amount of time it takes to keep the house somewhat under control. And by somewhat I mean no food or juice spilled on the floor, no markers splayed casually across the table, no dirty diapers overflowing from the stinky pail. Realistically, keeping toys picked up is an impossibility.
When Kolbe was a baby and I was back at work, I never realized how time consuming keeping up with the household was. We'd get home from work around 5:30 and eat dinner, play for an hour or two, and then off to bed. Our routine barely gave him any time to destroy the house. Now that not only are they home ALL day long, but there's two of them too, it's a constant battle to keep the carpet visible and the table void of some form of food dried to it. And don't even ask if I keep my children perfectly cleaned throughout the day. Does the word 'rag-a-muffin' mean anything to you? We use it frequently in our home.
A week or so ago, my sister-in-laws Abby and Casey and I were in a maternity store. For once, I wasn't shopping and had time to relax for a minute or two while they were trying on clothes. The store we were in had a neat little area set up for kids to play in while their mamas shopped. On the wall behind the play area, the following was displayed:
This is a Home Where Children Live
You may not find things all in place,
Friend, when you enter here.
But we’re a home where children live,
We hold them very dear.
And you may find small fingerprints
And smudges on the wall.
When the kids are gone, we’ll clean them up,
Right now we’re playing ball.
For there’s one thing of which we’re sure,
These children are on loan.
One day they’re always underfoot,
Next thing you know, they’re gone.
That’s when we’ll have a well-kept house,
When they’re off on their own.
Right now, this is where children live,
A loved and lived-in home.
I just loved this little poem! These words couldn't be truer about our house. I don't even try to pretend like we've got it all together here. Heck, our entire family room is a "what's what" of toddler toys and our mantle proudly displays not beloved family photos, but toys that have been taken away for their misuse as weapons of brotherly destruction.
But as the poem says, there's far too little time to waste every waking moment cleaning up the evidence of our day-to-day activities. And even if there were enough time, I don't know that I'd want to wipe it all away. There's something so precious about seeing Kolbe's little scribble marks on construction paper proudly taped haphazardly to the wall or Reagan's blankies and rattles piled high in the middle of the kitchen floor. They call out to me as if to say, Yes, we're a mess, but stop! Think about it! You have a mess! That means you have two beautiful, happy, loved boys who are growing, learning, experiencing, and enjoying life! Be thankful!
After all, on a day to day basis, who am I trying to impress? As a mother, truly my only audience is these boys and God. And I'm pretty sure both the boys and God could care less about whether the floor has been mopped today or not.
When Kolbe was a baby and I was back at work, I never realized how time consuming keeping up with the household was. We'd get home from work around 5:30 and eat dinner, play for an hour or two, and then off to bed. Our routine barely gave him any time to destroy the house. Now that not only are they home ALL day long, but there's two of them too, it's a constant battle to keep the carpet visible and the table void of some form of food dried to it. And don't even ask if I keep my children perfectly cleaned throughout the day. Does the word 'rag-a-muffin' mean anything to you? We use it frequently in our home.
A week or so ago, my sister-in-laws Abby and Casey and I were in a maternity store. For once, I wasn't shopping and had time to relax for a minute or two while they were trying on clothes. The store we were in had a neat little area set up for kids to play in while their mamas shopped. On the wall behind the play area, the following was displayed:
This is a Home Where Children Live
You may not find things all in place,
Friend, when you enter here.
But we’re a home where children live,
We hold them very dear.
And you may find small fingerprints
And smudges on the wall.
When the kids are gone, we’ll clean them up,
Right now we’re playing ball.
For there’s one thing of which we’re sure,
These children are on loan.
One day they’re always underfoot,
Next thing you know, they’re gone.
That’s when we’ll have a well-kept house,
When they’re off on their own.
Right now, this is where children live,
A loved and lived-in home.
I just loved this little poem! These words couldn't be truer about our house. I don't even try to pretend like we've got it all together here. Heck, our entire family room is a "what's what" of toddler toys and our mantle proudly displays not beloved family photos, but toys that have been taken away for their misuse as weapons of brotherly destruction.
But as the poem says, there's far too little time to waste every waking moment cleaning up the evidence of our day-to-day activities. And even if there were enough time, I don't know that I'd want to wipe it all away. There's something so precious about seeing Kolbe's little scribble marks on construction paper proudly taped haphazardly to the wall or Reagan's blankies and rattles piled high in the middle of the kitchen floor. They call out to me as if to say, Yes, we're a mess, but stop! Think about it! You have a mess! That means you have two beautiful, happy, loved boys who are growing, learning, experiencing, and enjoying life! Be thankful!
After all, on a day to day basis, who am I trying to impress? As a mother, truly my only audience is these boys and God. And I'm pretty sure both the boys and God could care less about whether the floor has been mopped today or not.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Three Thought Thursday
There's another mom with a blog that I read from time to time that does a "Seven Quick Takes" every Friday. Just seven little ditties about whatever thoughts she's having at the moment. Countless other bloggers have picked up on this routine and added it to their blogs. It's pretty neat because you can go to her blog and check out many of the other women and their seven takes for the week.
While I love this idea (as I tend to always have lots of random thoughts running through my head throughout the day), I have felt a little intimidated by the number seven. While yes, I do think about more than seven things in any given week, I doubt I'd be able to make that many thoughts coherent on the blog. And Lord knows I'd never find the time to adequately articulate seven complete thoughts. Thus, I've decided for the new year I'll start my own little random thought routine and do a Three Thought Thursday once a week. Surely I can manage three complete thoughts, right? Here we go for Week One!
1. I LOVE Christmas decorations. Really. There's something so special about the way a Christmas tree, an Advent wreath, stockings, and a Nativity scene make my home feel once all the decorations are all in place. Despite the cold outside, they just seem to make the whole house warmer. And I don't know about you, but this year I felt more excited about Christmas than I had since I was about six years old. Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a two-year-old was just SO exciting! A smile spreads across my face just thinking about next year! So yes, I decked my house out as much as my minimal budget would allow. And today I faced the daunting task of taking it all down. Buh. Love putting it up; hate taking it down. Seriously, the only part I like about taking it down is the smile on my face when I think about setting it all up next year!
2. Is it wrong to want something you already have? Depends on what it is, I'm sure you're saying. In my case, it's a diaper pail. I know, I know. Get real, right? But seriously! We've had the same diaper pail since Kolbe was born, and while it still works as intended, it's driving me crazy. No matter what I spray on it, sprinkle in it, wipe it down with, it still smells horrible. I took it in the backyard and got after it with the hose and some bleach cleaner. It still smells bad. I think the stink has been absorbed into the plastic. Heck, can you blame it? Considering it went through fifteen months of just Kolbe followed by eleven months with BOTH stinky boys, it's probably housed about five thousand dirty diapers thus far. The lever has been flipped over so many times that the rubber edging catches the rim and forces me to get aggressive on a daily basis. But for some reason I can't seem to justify buying a new one. Maybe I'm expecting it to spontaneously combust of stinky-ness or something.
3. In my world to date, the greatest cleaning tool in the world has got to be The Swiffer Vacuum. Prior to Reagan's birth I was completely blind to it's greatness. My mom and brother Dave used to rave about it and I just shrugged and assumed it was another cleaning gimmick that wasn't worth the investment. After all, I already owned the regular Swiffer Sweeper. You know, the stick that you attach the dusting cloth to that picks up all the nasty on the floor. While the Swiffer Sweeper is wonderful for picking up all the microscopic stuff that the broom can't get, it still requires the broom for all the big pieces, not to mention the dust pan. So you're making two complete trips around the floor. But alas, my beautiful mother bestowed upon me The Swiffer Vacuum as a mommy gift after Reagan was born. Sigh. I love that thing! It's literally like a DustBuster on a stick with the added bonus of the dusting cloth as well. It picks up all the big pieces AND all the microscopic pieces! Plus, it swivels around every piece of furniture and is much easier to use than the common broom. No dirt pile, no dust pan. It. Is. Awesome! Seriously, if you have $25 sitting around, buy yourself this. Or get someone else to buy it for you! I think you can even find coupons for it online. Totally worth the investment. I use mine constantly and every time I marvel at it's greatest.
While I love this idea (as I tend to always have lots of random thoughts running through my head throughout the day), I have felt a little intimidated by the number seven. While yes, I do think about more than seven things in any given week, I doubt I'd be able to make that many thoughts coherent on the blog. And Lord knows I'd never find the time to adequately articulate seven complete thoughts. Thus, I've decided for the new year I'll start my own little random thought routine and do a Three Thought Thursday once a week. Surely I can manage three complete thoughts, right? Here we go for Week One!
1. I LOVE Christmas decorations. Really. There's something so special about the way a Christmas tree, an Advent wreath, stockings, and a Nativity scene make my home feel once all the decorations are all in place. Despite the cold outside, they just seem to make the whole house warmer. And I don't know about you, but this year I felt more excited about Christmas than I had since I was about six years old. Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a two-year-old was just SO exciting! A smile spreads across my face just thinking about next year! So yes, I decked my house out as much as my minimal budget would allow. And today I faced the daunting task of taking it all down. Buh. Love putting it up; hate taking it down. Seriously, the only part I like about taking it down is the smile on my face when I think about setting it all up next year!
2. Is it wrong to want something you already have? Depends on what it is, I'm sure you're saying. In my case, it's a diaper pail. I know, I know. Get real, right? But seriously! We've had the same diaper pail since Kolbe was born, and while it still works as intended, it's driving me crazy. No matter what I spray on it, sprinkle in it, wipe it down with, it still smells horrible. I took it in the backyard and got after it with the hose and some bleach cleaner. It still smells bad. I think the stink has been absorbed into the plastic. Heck, can you blame it? Considering it went through fifteen months of just Kolbe followed by eleven months with BOTH stinky boys, it's probably housed about five thousand dirty diapers thus far. The lever has been flipped over so many times that the rubber edging catches the rim and forces me to get aggressive on a daily basis. But for some reason I can't seem to justify buying a new one. Maybe I'm expecting it to spontaneously combust of stinky-ness or something.
3. In my world to date, the greatest cleaning tool in the world has got to be The Swiffer Vacuum. Prior to Reagan's birth I was completely blind to it's greatness. My mom and brother Dave used to rave about it and I just shrugged and assumed it was another cleaning gimmick that wasn't worth the investment. After all, I already owned the regular Swiffer Sweeper. You know, the stick that you attach the dusting cloth to that picks up all the nasty on the floor. While the Swiffer Sweeper is wonderful for picking up all the microscopic stuff that the broom can't get, it still requires the broom for all the big pieces, not to mention the dust pan. So you're making two complete trips around the floor. But alas, my beautiful mother bestowed upon me The Swiffer Vacuum as a mommy gift after Reagan was born. Sigh. I love that thing! It's literally like a DustBuster on a stick with the added bonus of the dusting cloth as well. It picks up all the big pieces AND all the microscopic pieces! Plus, it swivels around every piece of furniture and is much easier to use than the common broom. No dirt pile, no dust pan. It. Is. Awesome! Seriously, if you have $25 sitting around, buy yourself this. Or get someone else to buy it for you! I think you can even find coupons for it online. Totally worth the investment. I use mine constantly and every time I marvel at it's greatest.
Monday, January 4, 2010
My Little Catholic Kolbe
Mark got an adorable little table book for Christmas about lessons every father must teach his son. We've had a blast over the past week or so thumbing through all the little one-liners and dreaming of the future fun we'll have with our boys. One page in particular stood out to me; it reads:
"Remember, your primary duty as a father is to develop your son's spiritual well-being."
Mark and I have firmly believed this about having children since the get-go, but seeing it on paper and written by someone else just really hit home to me. The spiritual well-being of these boys is our greatest responsibility as parents. And Mark has said it before too: "My most important job is to get you and the boys to heaven!"
That being said, Mark and I have been trying our best to get these guys started in our faith at an early age. For the most part we've just assumed that they'll pick it up as they grow and comprehend God more easily. And, of course, praying and leading by example is essentially the most obvious route to take in this journey. We pray with the boys, take them to mass, read them books about God and how much He loves them, and let them see us praying as well.
I must say that we've been amazed at the way the understanding of God has blossomed in Kolbe this year. It started with his love of wearing his rosary around his neck. Shortly there after he began getting one of Mark's rosaries out of his nightstand drawer whenever possible and carrying it around. He then quickly developed his own makeshift sign of the cross which has become progressively more perfected over the passing months.
And just within the past month or so, some of the cutest, most pride inducing moments ever! A few Sundays ago at mass Kolbe kept climbing down from the pew during the homily and walking to the end of the aisle. With clenched teeth, I repeatedly whispered, "No, no, Kolbe! Come sit down, please!" He would come sit back down just to get back up and repeat his actions a few minutes later. Suddenly I realized what was going on. Kolbe would walk to the end of our pew, step out in to the aisle, hold on to the pew, crouch down beside it, and then come sit back down. He was genuflecting!!!
Let me just say that had my camera been in my bag, I would have started snapping pictures right in the middle of mass! Totally not kidding. Heck, I came close to hollering out Hey! Look at my two-year-old kid, everyone! Ultimate proud mom moment.
Another favorite is how during the Lord's Prayer he loves to glance around the congregation at everyone holding hands. When he notices the people at the end of each pew holding out their free hand to the "invisible" brother or sister beside them, he holds out his hands too. And sometimes at the end of the prayer when everyone raises their hands higher for the "for thine is the kingdom, the power..." he will stick his arms straight up and throw his head back, looking up to the ceiling for the rest of the prayer. He also likes to hold his arms out like the priest during the consecration, too. And if Mark closes his eyes and bows his head, Kolbe will pretend to close (i.e. squint) his and bow his head as well.
If it sounds like I'm bragging, it's because I am. While all of these things seem "cute" to onlookers (and me as well), the thing I'm most proud of is that the very concepts we want him to learn the most are starting to come through. And it feels so rewarding to actually be able to see that our efforts are completely worth it. Though making it through mass with two babies is sometimes one of the most exhausting activities of my week, it's something I will never ever give up on if it means laying another brick in their road to heaven.
"Remember, your primary duty as a father is to develop your son's spiritual well-being."
Mark and I have firmly believed this about having children since the get-go, but seeing it on paper and written by someone else just really hit home to me. The spiritual well-being of these boys is our greatest responsibility as parents. And Mark has said it before too: "My most important job is to get you and the boys to heaven!"
That being said, Mark and I have been trying our best to get these guys started in our faith at an early age. For the most part we've just assumed that they'll pick it up as they grow and comprehend God more easily. And, of course, praying and leading by example is essentially the most obvious route to take in this journey. We pray with the boys, take them to mass, read them books about God and how much He loves them, and let them see us praying as well.
I must say that we've been amazed at the way the understanding of God has blossomed in Kolbe this year. It started with his love of wearing his rosary around his neck. Shortly there after he began getting one of Mark's rosaries out of his nightstand drawer whenever possible and carrying it around. He then quickly developed his own makeshift sign of the cross which has become progressively more perfected over the passing months.
And just within the past month or so, some of the cutest, most pride inducing moments ever! A few Sundays ago at mass Kolbe kept climbing down from the pew during the homily and walking to the end of the aisle. With clenched teeth, I repeatedly whispered, "No, no, Kolbe! Come sit down, please!" He would come sit back down just to get back up and repeat his actions a few minutes later. Suddenly I realized what was going on. Kolbe would walk to the end of our pew, step out in to the aisle, hold on to the pew, crouch down beside it, and then come sit back down. He was genuflecting!!!
Let me just say that had my camera been in my bag, I would have started snapping pictures right in the middle of mass! Totally not kidding. Heck, I came close to hollering out Hey! Look at my two-year-old kid, everyone! Ultimate proud mom moment.
Another favorite is how during the Lord's Prayer he loves to glance around the congregation at everyone holding hands. When he notices the people at the end of each pew holding out their free hand to the "invisible" brother or sister beside them, he holds out his hands too. And sometimes at the end of the prayer when everyone raises their hands higher for the "for thine is the kingdom, the power..." he will stick his arms straight up and throw his head back, looking up to the ceiling for the rest of the prayer. He also likes to hold his arms out like the priest during the consecration, too. And if Mark closes his eyes and bows his head, Kolbe will pretend to close (i.e. squint) his and bow his head as well.
If it sounds like I'm bragging, it's because I am. While all of these things seem "cute" to onlookers (and me as well), the thing I'm most proud of is that the very concepts we want him to learn the most are starting to come through. And it feels so rewarding to actually be able to see that our efforts are completely worth it. Though making it through mass with two babies is sometimes one of the most exhausting activities of my week, it's something I will never ever give up on if it means laying another brick in their road to heaven.
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