Ever Have One of Those Weeks?

Have you ever had one of those weeks? Maybe a little like this?

Monday: You need to go pick your child up at school during a tornado warning. Actually, it's the extended warning. You were going to let her wait it out because her little brother was scared, but once the extension was added you decided to go get her (the tornado was nowhere nearby) since they would not even be putting her on the bus until 5 pm and then she would have another 40 minutes or so before getting home. It is a torrential downpour and you are all soaked to the skin and stripping the moment you set foot in the house. (Hooray, more laundry! Not.)

Oh, yes, did I mention that it's your birthday? There's no dessert because you didn't make any. You ask your husband to clean up since you made dinner. He puts the left over food away but leaves the dirty dishes in the sink (which was really what you meant for him to do but weren't smart enough to specify in your request). You realize you need to be more precise next time.

Tuesday: Your kid swipes 3 Hot Wheels cars while you are shopping at Kroger -- and you don't realize it until it's time to check out. By then, of course, he has torn open the packages. So you buy them, force him to pay you back, and charge an extra dollar for emotional duress.

In grocery shopping-related news, you are annoyed that today was the last day that your Kroger will be doubling coupons. Boo!

You go home, put the groceries away, transfer laundry from washer to dryer, change your clothes (can't wear the grocery shopping ensemble for yardwork!), and ask your four-year-old to help you apply sunscreen to your back (because it's over 80 degrees already and you are now wearing a tank top). Then you pop in a Disney film and manage to get the lawnmower out of the shed, mow the entire lawn (just a hair shy of an acre), and then put the lawnmower back -- entirely on your own! (Take that, husband who said he didn't think you could do it.) You later realize you have probably been duped. He knows you hate being told what you can't do!

You go to bed kind of miffed because hubby has asked you to stop and buy ice cream after your evening meeting at church. You are kind of tired but oblige because he has a sore throat. (You're cool like that even though he didn't buy you ice cream on your birthday.)

Wednesday: The same child has a tantrum the following morning at Walmart because you won't buy him -- wait for it -- another Hot Wheels car. So he runs off screaming like a banshee and you chase after him through approximately 15 aisles of the store before he slows down and you can finally grab him by the collar of his shirt. And then you wonder if wearing the skinny jeans and cute ballet flats was really the best choice for shopping with a four-year-old boy, which is starting to seem like more of a competitive sport each day.

Later, you step into the garage as you are headed out side to play "hardball baseball" with your boy. (Clearly, he has energy to burn off.) The moment you set foot out the door, you slip backward, nearly falling. (Thankfully, you do not get hurt. The floor of the garage is concrete, after all!) On closer inspection, you realize that you have stepped in a pile of dog poo. IN the garage. And by the way, you were still wearing the cute ballet flats, which aside from not offering much in the way of traction, are now coated in a layer of smeared dog poo. You are wondering why you have a dog...

To top off the day, it is your night to work the dinner at church. After 2.5 hours of running like a made woman (there were not enough hands!), scarfing your own dinner, and eventually stealing a potty break, it is over. You go to retrieve your little dude from the nursery (where they eventually had someone to help out, which is good, 'cause he started out in the kitchen with you, which for obvious reasons was not good). At this point, he smiles at you angelically and asks, "Mommy, is there any food left?" Um, yeah, you just spent several minutes packing it all up. Also, you have officially lost "Mom of the Year" status. That is reserved for people who remember to feed their children.

In other news, this is the second day this week that you have had to wash the cover from one of the couch cushions -- because a certain child has peed on it. (Hooray, more laundry! Not.) You are convinced that if you could just get all of the people and animals in your household to do their business in the correct location, your life would suddenly seem so much easier.

Thursday: As soon as you get out of the shower, you discover that your son has wet the bed. Only he wasn't in his own bed -- he was in your bed. You don't have a plastic sheet on this bed, obviously, so that means that when you strip the bedding you find a puddle of urine on your mattress. You head down to the laundry room to start a wash load, nearly tripping over a pile of in front of the laundry room door. It turns out that your other child has also wet the bed. (Hooray, more laundry! Not.) Next, you sprinkle baking soda all over your mattress and cross your fingers that it will sop up the liquid and get rid of any odor. You remind yourself that it could be worse -- at least one child wet her own bed and not yours!

After you are in bed (which now has fresh sheets, at least), your husband informs you that he read online that your daughter's school is doing away with Spanish and art. He tries to make you feel better, saying, "She still has you for art." Obviously, this is not the same. She loves those special classes. You have trouble getting to sleep because you are upset -- not just for the kids to miss out on these classes, but also for the teachers who may be losing their jobs.

Friday: Your son just pooped his pants for the fourth time this week. (Hooray, more laundry! Not.) You wonder how much diarrhea is considered "normal" and debate whether or not to call the pediatrician's office. (It's always tricky to find the right balance between being that mom -- the one who calls too often for every little thing --and that mom -- the one who never takes things seriously enough.)

Well, you make a decision and call the doc's office. He isn't having diarrhea, the nurse tells you. He's constipated. Well, okay, that makes sense. Not really, but kinda sorta. Anyway, you hang up and are immediately informed by your son that he has pooped his pants. Again. So make that five times this week. (Hooray, more laundry! Not.)

A letter comes home in your daughter's Friday folder confirming that there will be no Spanish or art classes next year. They are, however, offering some sort of before or after school art club. You still don't see how that makes up for cutting the programs!

Later, your son tells you that he has forgotten to lift the toilet lid, and so he has peed all over the bathroom floor. Actually, compared to the other potty accidents you have dealt with this week, you really don't care. At least he was in the bathroom attempting to do what he was supposed to do.

At bedtime, you are faced with two tired and cranky children. It turned out that it was a bad idea to go out to dinner to belatedly celebrate your birthday. Also, that big chocolate chip cookie for dessert was a huge mistake. Don't they know that you're supposed to bake them all the way through? Ugh. Everyone had a tummy ache. Your husband informs you that you didn't need to eat your whole piece. Right. Like you considered not eating the chocolate to be an option.

Feeling worn out, you turn to your faithful blog for a nice venting session. (Here you feel the need to add a final note that this was meant to be tongue-in-cheek. You lead a very blessed life, and happen to think that you are funny, even if nobody else may agree. And, your husband is pretty great most of the time. You don't want people to think that you have no faith in him, but like every normal person you occasionally feel peeved at him -- this week more than normal!) That said, you pray that the weekend of double birthday parties goes much more smoothly than the rest of the week!

What NOT to Ask a Mom

A couple of weeks ago, the code popped up on my van letting me know that my oil life is at 15%. This digital display is super convenient for busy moms who don't have time to keep track of this sort of thing. I got pretty darn sick and kind of forgot about it until I was back to driving, by which point the van was telling me I was at 10% oil life. This was fine, it just meant that it was time to schedule the appointment. I waited until I had some quiet time when Logan was at preschool so that I could make an un-interrupted phone call. Fortunately, I was able to get it in this morning, which was perfect since I had realized that it was one of the few mornings that we weren't already booked.

There were other codes that had popped up on the dashboard display, too, so I knew we were going to be there for a while as they took care of some other maintenance stuff (which I promptly forgot the specifics of just so long as I knew two things: How much? and How long?). I wasn't too concerned, though. He's been awesome at the dealership in the past. (I'm specifically thinking of the loooong appointment last December when after all the other fixes were found and corrected, ended up being a $1400 oil change!)

Just in case it turned out to be a lengthy appointment, I tried to be extra prepared. I had packed three snacks for Logan plus a coloring book and crayons. And there were plenty of toys there to keep him entertained. (I just tried to read my book and not think about how visibly dirty most of them were! Really, I am not a germ-a-phobe. I never used one of those fancy pants shopping cart covers that lots of moms have, and I don't even bother with the wipes for the shopping cart because I am more concerned about the chemicals in them than the germs that the kids might be exposed to. It just bugged me that the toys were so filthy looking.)

Then, an hour and 15 minutes into this morning's oil change (plus whatever), the service technician comes to me and asks, "How are we doing?" My first thought was, Uh oh, what's wrong? This is one of those rhetorical questions that I absolutely hate, because I am always so tempted to give an honest answer, when really I know that is not what the other person is looking for.

I looked around at the toys strewn everywhere in their play area and thought, Well, he seems happy. As you can see he has gotten out every. single. toy. you people have. Besides that, He has scarfed down all three snacks and has been asking for more food. Also, I am exhausted and in case you can't tell, my backpack smells like feces, but don't worry! At least it's not mine.

I tamped down the urge to tell him how we actually were doing. Logan was pleased as punch and completely un-phased by the fact that he had messed his pants -- about 5 minutes after I had asked him (for the umpteenth time) if he needed to use the bathroom. I was feeling less than happy about having to clean him up -- with paper towels -- because I didn't have enough wash cloths. Plus, I had to send him back to playing -- with no socks -- because I didn't have any in my now-stinky wet-dry bag. I did, however, have several short sleeved shirts-- which are of little use to him now that it's the middle of October in Michigan.

And, if that wasn't enough, I was reminded of how he had wet his pants after his soccer game last Saturday, and Brett had been frustrated by the same type of thing: no pants, but plenty of those same short-sleeved shirts! Ooops! Guess who didn't re-stock the bag? And it's almost been a week. The only saving grace is that I had the foresight to grab a pair of jeans before we left this morning, because guess what else was not in that wet-dry bag?

By this point, I was feeling like a BIG failure as a mom, and I was truly looking forward to heading home. However, I realized that something else was up with the van. I lifted a brow and waited for the service man to tell me what exactly was wrong with my vehicle. How much? How long?

So, I forced a smile and told him, "We're fine," even though I wasn't really feeling that way at all. Thankfully, the news was bearable. The tires were just wearing unevenly and needed to be realigned. It was less than $100, which while not good news, was much better than it could have been. Thank goodness for that 15% off all services coupon! He told me it would take 45 minutes to an hour, and I thought, It has to be now. When else will we have time? And, Will I really want to do this all over again any time soon?! 

And, that was when I realized the irony that once again, I was seated in this dealership, reading yet another a self-help book, exactly what I found myself doing the last time I got bad news about the van. Why is it that I am always reading a book on how to be a better wife, a better mother, a better person? And I never see men reading books on these things. I was tempted to ask the guy why that is? Why am I always reading these books? My husband doesn't read these books. And, I bet he never beats himself up like I do.

Well, obviously, I didn't ask him these questions. He would have thought I was nuts if I said all the weird things that jumped into my addled mind after being asked one simple, rhetorical question. Instead, I told him to just get it done!

And then an hour later, he came back to tell me that the van was finished, as I was on my hands and knees trying to pick up some of the mess. Normally, I would not have left that play area looking like a natural disaster zone. Normally, I would have made Logan pick up every last one (or I'd have done it myself). But, I just didn't see the point. I already felt like one BIG mess. That's when I decided to pay the bill and walk away.

So, I drove away in my freshly-washed-on-the-outside, totally-messy-on-the-inside van, which mirrored how I felt about myself right then. I did my best to put on a good show, but inside I was feeling defeated. For some reason my response the phrase, "How are we doing?" didn't sit well with me at all because I felt like a total fraud. On the other hand, just think about all of the stuff I could have said in response to that dumb rhetorical question... He would have been sorry he asked!

"Nummy!"

Something clicked for Logan recently and his speech has really taken off! The list of new words and approximations that I have been making since his home teacher's last visit got so long that I was scribbling around the sides of the note paper and it was getting hard to keep track of his progress. I was incredibly excited to share this with Ms. Michelle today, especially since Ms. Pam, the speech pathologist came along on this visit. Last Tuesday, while he was at his LESA playgroup, he said three new approximations: "bell," (while playing with play dough and seeing a bell shaped cookie cutter) "eat," and "drink" (During snack time of course, and he now consistently makes the "k" sound for "drink," usually while signing "drink") and then when we got home he added "moon" (He saw the moon.) and "nummy" (for "yummy") to his repertoire.

And his vocabulary has just exploded since then! Last Thursday, he started saying "bobby" for "baby" and I have heard him continue to say this when he sees a doll or picture of a baby. He also started saying "bye bye" although now he has shortened it to "bye" while he pretends to talk on the phone or when we are leaving. Last Friday, he saw a toy dog and called it "doggie" and later in the day he started saying "heh-woh" for "hello" while pretending to talk on the phone. I can't tell you how long I have been waiting for him to start saying versions "hello" and "goodbye." This was bugging me a bit because it seemed like every other kid (and usually much younger than Logan) was able to say them, so this is a big milestone for both of us.

On September 30, Logan peed in the potty for the first time. (Stick with me. I promise this is connected to his language development.) This was totally his idea, and I was pretty shocked that we was successful since he was just 25 months old. Then, when he went again a few minutes later, I called Brett and asked him to bring home some M&M's because it looked like we were potty training, whether we were ready for it or not. This has been a huge motivator for Logan and it has also increased his vocabulary because he really wants to earn those M&M's, or "nummies" as he calls them. He has gone potty at least once every day since then, and usually more like three or four times. Plus, he started asking to go "potty" and telling me when he needs to go "pee pee" (or has already gone in his diaper). Several times a day, he looks longingly at the pantry and declares "nummy!" so I tell him he can earn a "nummy" by going potty. It's definitely working.

In the past few days, Logan has continued to add more new words and approximations to his vocabulary. This Tuesday at playgroup, he said something that sounded like "puff" and something else that sounded very much like "please" during snack time. On the way home, he saw a school bus and announced "bus" or at least something that sounded a lot like "bus." Yesterday, while playing outside, he was concerned about the "bug" on the slide and kept pointing it out and saying "bug" until I did got rid of it. He also asked me to fill his watering can by saying an approximation for "water."

Logan was eating yogurt for breakfast this morning with a frog spoon and Brett reports that he pointed to the eye and said "eye" and then he said "froggy." During his home visit later in the morning, he said several new words while he helped Ms. Pam read Brown Bear Brown Bear What Do You See? by choosing the correct animal magnet and putting it on the magnet board each time a new animal was introduced. He called out "bear," "bird," "blue,"and "duck." 

During our session, Ms. Pam had me circle words/approximations that Logan has said from a list of common words that kids first learn and when she totaled up the list she said he knew 31 words. And we can now add "hockey" to the word list, too. He kept throwing a puck around this afternoon while yelling "hockey!" He is definitely all boy. We don't play or watch a lot of hockey, so why he would even have that as one of his first words is beyond me. Ms. Pam said our "homework" is to get him to start adding verbs to his vocabulary and then connecting them with the nouns he knows. I am hoping that this will be easy for my very active little guy.

Once Upon a Potty

Mia decided she was seriously interested in potty training sometime in early March after we had started visiting preschools. (If I had known that would do the trick, I would have started taking her to see preschools sooner.) I got excited a couple of days ago when I realized she had gone about a week without having an accident, but since then she has had an accident each day. I know it's a process, but I was so hopeful that the end was in sight. I don't know how much backsliding is normal, but it has happened a few times. She will be having a lot of success, and then something happens and she seems to lose it for awhile. So here are my records of some potty training milestones... I wonder if mapping them out will help me figure out a pattern if there is one. If you are sensitive about "personal business" you may want to stop reading.

Saturday March 13, pooped on potty for first time

Friday March 19, went all day without potty accidents

Saturday April 10, pooped in potty (not sure why I noted this unless it had been a problem?)

Sunday April 18, earned 2nd pony (This explains April 10--She was working to earn 3 My Little Ponies that we bought for potty training rewards.)

Wednesday April 21, gave suppository (Mia has a history of holding it in, perhaps making it that much harder to go on the potty.)

Sunday April 25, gave Miralax (still having problems, apparently)

Wednesday April 28, earned 3rd pony (pooped in the toilet!)

Thursday April 29, gave Miralax (I think she must have really been trying to go, but not been able to.)

Friday April 30, pooped in Pull-Up (We realized that just getting her to poop was important at the time, and tried not to push her to use the potty since she asked for the Pull-Up.)

Wednesday May 5, pooped in underwear

Thursday May 6, pooped in Pull-Up

Tuesday May 18, pooped in Pull-Up

Friday June 4, earned the My Little Pony Castle (final toy reward for pooping in the potty- and by that point I think I had told her it had to be in the toilet because emptying the potty was just too gross for me to deal with anymore.)

Thursday June 17, last reward (candy) for pooping in potty (At some point during that past 4 weeks she figured out that pooping didn't hurt if you didn't hold it in, and she started doing it in the toilet instead of the potty!!)

I have no idea when we stopped giving candy (M & Ms or Reese's Pieces) for peeing in the potty, but we had quit doing it and then gone back to it since she had some regression due to trying to tackle #2. I just know that we have tried several different incentives. We ended up letting her earn several more My Little Ponies and finally a big reward-- the My Little Pony Castle. I had gotten the castle and ponies at a garage sale for $2 so it wasn't too big of a deal and she was getting so excited when she pooped at got to pick out her pony. The funny thing is she would select the pony by size in correlation to the amount of poop she produced, and she felt that she had to do a fantastic poop to earn that castle. I was so optimistic that she had it under control at that point at least for day-time. I suppose some day it will be over and I will forget all of this and then it will be time to potty train Logan!