April 2016

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I decided to start potty training #7 today.  It is a rainy cold dreary day so what better day to do it, right?

#7 is going to be 3 in June.  I don’t think that there is any specific time frame for potty training.  Some parents believe that by the age of 18 months their child should be potty trained or at least beginning to be potty trained.  Other parent wait till their child is about to go to school.  Seriously, I knew a mom that was still changing diapers on her 4 year old.  There was nothing wrong with him but mom felt he would let her know when he was ready.   But I digress.

#1 was my first child and I had no clue about potty training.  She went to the potty but refused to poop in said potty.  She was almost 3 before she was fully potty trained.   #2 (the child, not the action) was easy.  When he learned that he could take out his penis and pee at will into a toilet that was it. Game over.

#3 and #4 and #5 were also easy.  Same idea.  I get to pee on cheerios in the toilet?  Challenge accepted.  So in my experience, at that point, boys were much easier than girls to potty train.  All 4 boys were peeing and pooping in the potty by the time they were 2 ½.  I was the potty whisperer.

Enter #6, after a 12 year hiatus of having babies.  The first time we pulled out her potty chair and she peed, that was it.  I also had the potty chair in the living room so she would sit on it while watching Yo Gabba Gabba.  I did not think it was odd but other people entering my house and seeing an 18 month old relaxing on her Minnie Mouse potty chair might have felt a bit uncomfortable.  This is also may be a significant reason she likes an audience while she uses the bathroom.  Seriously, she leaves the door opens and talks to anyone who walks by.  It helped that she had a potty routine that was easy to translate into training.  She peed and pooped on schedule.  It was amazing.

#7 though.  The baby.  He has no interest in potty training.  I ask him, his dad asks him, even his brothers and sister ask him if wants to pee on the potty like a big boy.  Nope.  He did counter with the offer of peeing on them but they politely refused.  He also has no set schedule.  He poops when he feels like it and can stay dry for hours at a time but other times will fill his diaper to the weight limit.

Today, his reign of tyranny in diapers is coming to a close.  He has went on the potty three times.  He has peed on the potty two times.  He has pooped in the potty once after being surprised that he did not just “fawt.”  He has went through 4 pairs of underwear.  He is starting to like the idea of peeing in the potty instead of in his pants.

It will take time and patience and lots of laundry detergent.  I will have the bulk of potty training left to me so he will first learn to pee sitting down before graduating to standing and spraying everywhere but in the potty.  And in the end, after diapers are no longer always in my Amazon Prime cart, and my last baby is finally potty trained, I will be happy that I no longer have to change diapers.   And, deep down, way way way deep down, kind of sad that my baby boy is getting to be a big boy, one pee in the potty at a time.

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I have seen so many posts and articles about how to be a better mother:  how to stop yelling at your kids, how to stop losing patience, how to be the best mommy you can, how to dress up yoga pants.  All the information is nice and yes, I need to work on not elevating my voice all the time, I need to focus on taking deep breaths and staying calm, I need to be… the… best.. Mommy, ok you know what?  I need to be the best mommy that I am capable of and sometimes that best mommy is short on patience but long on love and my yoga pants are just fine, thank you.

What I really want to share is how watching British movies and television made me into a better mommy.  I love BBC and British movies.  I think that the programs are better, the accents are sexy, and the moms are all a little bit off of their rocker.  I can relate.  I may not have a sexy accent and with my ongoing allergies I sound more like Snuffleupagus than Bridget Jones but the point remains that English moms are kind of awesome.

Take Mrs. Hudson, she is not a mom per say but she is motherly to Sherlock and John.  I love her.  She doesn’t cook, she is nosy, and she sent her husband off to prison.  She is my hero.  Seriously, she takes care of two men who need constant looking after and she always has to remind them that she is not their housekeeper.  It reminds me of my boys.

Madge Arwell from Doctor Who.   She kicks definite ass and brings her husband back from the dead.  She was in no way going to raise those kids by themselves.  The definition of a mom who knows what she has to do.

And let’s not forget the mother of them all, Molly Weasley of Harry Potter for you people living under a rock or who swear allegiance to He Who Must Not Be Named.  I think she is the absolute best mom out there.  She had tragedy in her past, raised 7 kids, and will take down anyone who tries to get to her husband or children.  She is frumpy, funny, loving and I wish I was her.  Do you know how fast laundry would go if I had magic?  I would make self-cleaning clothes for god’s sake!

You could even say that Edwina Monsoon from Absolutely Fabulous is a good mom though this one is a stretch.  She abuses drugs, depends on her daughter to take care of her, and is hopeless.  But she loves her daughter and in her semi-lucid stupor does try be a good mom.  She fails spectacularly at it but she does try.

In the end, we moms need to hear advice and we need to know that we are not the only ones who don’t always get it right but we always try.  I don’t need someone to point out all of my faults, I do that on a daily basis but it’s nice when you realize that you are not the only one who forgets snack day or clean clothes or how to have conversations that don’t start out with Disney characters.   And I can always fake a British accent to make myself feel better!

 

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He looks cute but so do skunks!

He looks cute but so do skunks!

#7 used to be such a good baby.  He was never fussy.  He slept through the night.  He slept in his own crib.  He would always fall asleep in the car seat.  He liked to cuddle and I could take him out for hours before he would get cranky.  I miss old #7.

New #7 is kind of a dick.  He is.  He insists on sleeping with #6 now.  Which wouldn’t be so bad if #6 did not insist that she sleep with us.  I now have two kids sleeping on a mattress on our bedroom floor.  Right next to our bed.  He doesn’t want to cuddle anymore.  He does want to destroy everything and everyone that he sees though so that’s progress. 

Today, #7 has been particularly trying.  The following is a list, in no particular order, of how much of an ass #7 has been today. 

#7 is now fascinated by poop.  Not pooping in the potty, mind you, oh no, he is only fascinated by talking about it constantly.  And asking me if I want to eat it.  And making farting noises with such force that he can now poop on command.  In his pants.  While talking about pooping.  I have to give him credit for finding something new and sticking with it. 

He only wants his juice, water, etc. in a specific sippy cup.  Which is whatever sippy cup I cannot find at the moment.  He will not drink anything until it’s found.  I am worried he is going to be dehydrated.  And he keeps misplacing his sippy cup.  It’s an endless vicious cycle. 

He has learned how to turn the volume up on the family room t.v.  I have listened to Mickey, Peppa, and Jake at AC/DC levels today.  He keeps doing it.  I have hid the remote and he has learned how to use the buttons on the t.v.   This is a battle I am winning as I have unplugged the t.v. and told him that he broke it. 

He learned how to unbuckle himself from his car seat.  He stood up in the backseat while I was doing 55 mph and almost gave me a heart attack.  He refuses to sit in his car seat.  He may or may not have been duct taped in at a certain point.  Who am I kidding, I can never find tape.  I did manage to get him to sit back down by bribing him with cookies.  

He has learned how to throw cookies at my head while I am driving.  I may have a tiny role to play in this as I gave him the damned cookies in the first place.  And I am kind of astounded that he has such as good arm at 2 1/2.  

He dumped coffee all over the kitchen floor.  It was lukewarm because I had forgotten that I had put it on the kitchen counter.  Which leads me to his new fascination with dragging chairs to the counter and pulling things off of them.   And the fact that he thinks that he has gotten burnt from lukewarm coffee.  I had to give him another cookie to calm him down. 

He dumped all of my clean clothes out on the floor of the living room.  That I had just folded.  For the third time.  

He put a plastic 32 oz. cup in the toilet and I didn’t notice it until after.  I will not go into the gory details but it has to deal with his fascination with poop and now I need to double check before I sit on the potty.  

I love #7.  I also love my sanity and I have a feeling that it is going to be called into question before the day is over.   If anyone has seen old #7 I would gladly trade him for this new, not so improved version.  Please!

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