Help my fab friend Laura reach her goal for the March of Dimes Walk. And you’ll be cool like me. 🙂
Progress or a New Low in Mommyhood?
Before I burst, I just have to say, the Big One peed on the potty last night!!!!
Okay, so here’s how it happened. We were playing in the play room when the Big One announced, “Mommy, I peeing.” My trained response, as it has been for the last few months, was, “Well, do you want to sit on the potty?”
Fully expecting her to shout NO and run away from like she usually does, I was nearly blown over when she said YES! Of course the yes was followed by a list of demands. She wanted her little potty, her wipes, the Dora and fishy stickers and the M&Ms all brought downstairs. {yes, we resorted to bribes of stickers and candy to get her to pee}.
Now I ran up the stairs as fast as my fat legs would carry me, knowing full well that the act of peeing was done and over with but I didn’t want to mess with the progress of her actually having the desire to sit on the potty. So I return to the bottom of the stairs and head for the bathroom, the Big One following closely.
We strip her down to just a shirt {which was actually a Dora dress} and the waiting begins. She sits on her little Baby Bjorn potty and says, “Mommy stay in here!” So I oblige, parking myself in the bathroom doorway. The Little One was playing nearby so I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her while providing the Big One with the moral support she needed.
As time goes on, we talk about going on the potty, wearing panties, getting stickers, cleaning our butts and all kinds of other topics as we sat for 45 minutes. Yes 45 minutes of trying to go on the potty. I knew she had just peed in her diaper and the chances of there being more pee in there were slim to none, but I didn’t want to mess with her mojo. So we sat.
Finally the Husband got home from work and I convinced the Big One that I needed to start dinner while she kept trying. After another 20 minutes or so, the Husband and I convinced her that she needed to eat dinner, but if she felt like she needed to go potty all she had to do was tell us and we’d get her back to the potty.
She declared that she would eat dinner, but she wanted to wear her panties. She has NEVER gone without a diaper. I was not looking forward to a potential accident but knew that her enthusiasm is fleeting and I need to take advantage of it. So we put the blue Dora panties on. {Yes, they had to be blue because that is her favorite color!}and headed for the dinner table.
We were eating our dinner, chatting about our days when the Big One suddenly says, “Excuse me mommy and daddy, I need to go potty.” Jumping into action, the Husband gets her down from her booster seat, takes off her pants and panties and plops her on the potty. He returned to the table and we continued eating when about 3 minutes later from the bathroom we hear, “I pee-peed…. I pee-peed!” I ran in to check and discovered that she had in fact peed. WAHOOOO!!
Here’s where the new low comes in. She declared that she still need to “go poopie,” and that I needed to stay in there with her. In fact she was insistent, so with tears of joy and pride in my eyes, I set-up shop on the bathroom floor and finished eating my dinner while the Big One continued her quest to poop on the potty.
Is Everything Bad For Us? #3,6 & 7 plastics
So the story on the Today Show regarding the safety of plastic bottles got me thinking. Now I am not an alarmist who generally gets sucked into the notion that everything we eat, drink or touch is going to cause us to die of cancer. But this story touched a nerve with me.
The offending chemical is Polycarbonate (PC) which is composed of a hormone-disrupting chemical called bisphenol A, which has been linked to a wide variety of problems such as cancer and obesity. Additional potentially harmful affects of the stuff include fertility problems childhood behavioral problems such as hyperactivity. (sources: http://www.thegreenguide.com/products/Kitchen/Plastic_Containers/1 and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polycarbonate )
The doctor who was on, mentioned that it’s best to try to avoid plastic bottles with the numbers 3, 6 or 7 in the little triangle found on the bottom of them. So I did a quick scan of my house and discovered that my baby bottles (Evenflo) are #7 and all of the Gerber baby food that I currently feed to the Little One and previously fed to the Big One are all #7 containers.
An article on the National Geographic Web site (http://www.thegreenguide.com/products/Kitchen/Plastic_Containers/1) says that #7 is actually the catchall for “other” plastics.
Here’s their definition of #7 containers: “ #7 other (misc.; usually polycarbonate, or PC, but also polylactide, or PLA, plastics made from renewable resources)
Product examples: Baby bottles, some reusable water bottles, stain-resistant food-storage containers, medical storage containers”
So how in the heck am I supposed to figure out if the #7 on the Gerber baby food containers represents PC or PLA???
The Beach is Closed????
Do people seriously think that they can close down the beach in San Diego (or any where else for that matter). This is a true story. It is not about me personally nor any of my friends. It’s about some relatives, although not mine directly.
These anonymous folks were visiting sunny San Diego from the Boston area. They really wanted to see the sunset on the beach. Now this is a completely reasonable request especially considering while they were in San Diego to see the sunset, Boston was getting slammed with snow.
Some other relatives of mine sent them to La Jolla Shores to see the sunset. It’s beautiful and generally free of the riff-raff that can be spotted at other local beaches. We didn’t want to frighten these poor people.
Shortly after their arrival at the beach, a voice from above apparently announced that the beach was closing and they needed to clear the area. Now I am not certain, as I wasn’t there, but I assume these poor Boston-ites were picturing a large metal grate coming down straight from the heavens locking up the entire beach…. hook, line and sinker.
So they did what any normal person would do, right? They actually left the beach and came back home defeated after missing the sunset.
I was not there to hear the story first hand, but I do know that what they probably heard coming from the Lifeguard tower (not the heavens) was that it was approximately 7 p.m. and the lifeguards were calling it a day. The beach was not in fact closing, rather the lifeguards at that station were going home so if some idiot who didn’t know how to swim decided to take a dip they were probably on their own to drown in the Pacific Ocean.
Seriously, I know that average America is not real sharp, but c’mon did they really think the beach was “closed” and they had to vacate the area immediately? If so, then they deserve to miss the sunset and all subsequent sunsets. Honestly, I am officially declaring San Diego closed to all stupid people…. Don’t even bother coming, there will be an IQ test upon arrival at the airport and if you fail, you will be immediately shipped back to whatever rock you crawled out from.
I think I am in Love…
…With McDonald’s. Could this be possible? Yes, their fries are pretty good, but I prefer Carl’s Jr.’s fries and yes, there is nothing out there that tastes quite like a McNugget. But this time the object of my affection is not fried, served on a bun or covered in salt. Rather it’s their Iced Vanilla Coffee. WOW! I had one yesterday and was impressed.
Now, I am not a hard-core coffee drinker, my drink of choice before yesterday was a white mocha from Starbucks. Yes, I am sure there is more milk and chocolate syrup in one of these than coffee, that’s why I like it, It doesn’t actually taste like coffee.
Since we moved, I have struggled with the 13 mile drive to Starbucks, not the mention the $4 I spend on my aforementioned white mocha. {Did I mention that my beloved Jeep only gets about 14 miles to the gallon? So while the coffee itself cost $4 when you add in almost a gallon of gas in each direction to get there, it’s like I am paying $12 for that darn white mocha.} So the fact that McDonald’s, which is about one mile from my house, has a fantastic, doesn’t-taste-so-much-like-coffee alternative for only $2 makes my little heart skip a beat!!
Thank you McDonald’s for providing me a much more cost-effective vice than Starbucks offers. My husband and bank account thank you too!
OH MY GOSH! I just remembered something. We have a U Promise account, and when we buy McDonald’s bucks (you know those one dollar gift certificate things) we can redeem them for a 3% return into the Big One’s college savings fund. HOLY COW! I found a way to spend money on coffee, enjoy a good caffeine buzz and add to my kid’s college fund. DAMN! I am good.
An indication of things to come?
When I look at my precious two angels, I often wonder what they will be like as teenagers.
Right now, the Big One is very independent and a bit high-maintenance. She is not really a girly girl. On the rare occasion that she wears a dress, she usually has pants on under it. She rarely lets me brush her hair or put any clips in it, she prefers the wild, crazy hair look. The problem really isn’t her hair, the problem is that she doesn’t want to sit still for the two minutes that it would take for me to put pigtails in. She is constantly on the go.
The Little One on the other hand is very mellow, laid-back and has a go-with-the-flow attitude. She’ll sit and watch everything and everyone around her. She takes it all in with a quiet calm. She has a fabulous smile that she’ll share with just about anyone.
So I got to thinking about their first words and what impact that first word will have on their futures. I’m talking about actual words here, not the proverbial “mamamama” or “dadadadada.”
The Big One’s first word was “dog.” Pretty normal and typical I think. From others stories and memories, many kids’ first words are pretty innocuous: dog, ball, car, cup, etc.
So when the Little One busted out with her first word, I became a bit concerned about what the future holds for my youngest child.
I know you are all speculating what her first word was. Was it a curse word? Was it a color? Was it a 4 syllable word? Was it a cartoon character’s name?
If you guessed any of those, you are wrong. Little One’s first word was, “~ Little One’s name~.” Hmmm I am wondering does that mean she is going to be incredibly egotistical thinking only of herself? Does it mean that she will be a martyr offering herself up before ratting anyone else out? Does it mean that we talk about her way too much?
I think maybe it means that we are overly concerned about her hearing…. calling her name out a zillion times a day to see if she reacts. Apparently she is hearing loud and clear. {At least that’s my hope!!}
One or Uno Doesn’t Matter… She’s Bi-lingual
When the Big One has pushed me to the limits, I give her a three count to knock off whatever the offending behavior is. She knows that when she hears me say, “One” that it’s time to cut to the chase and close her mouth.
Usually the counting begins when she has been whining or crying about something for too long. She also knows that on the rare occasion that I get to “three” that she will get spanked on the bottom.
Typically what happens is, I begin the counting and before I even get to “two” she is screaming “NO!, I wanna sit down” and trying desperately to sit down on her bottom. In her two-year-old brain, if she is sitting, then I cannot reach her butt and therefore she won’t get spanked.
No this tactic doesn’t work, I manage to get her butt if necessary.
So anyway, when I count to three, I always do it in English because that is the language we speak! She has heard Jason or I count in Spanish, sometimes we play around and try to teach her a few Spanish words. She also watches Dora on occasion, so she has certainly heard people counting in Spanish.
So we were at Mervyn’s the other day when a little boy was getting in trouble. His mother had repeatedly called his name and beckoned him to get over to where she was. Ignoring his mother, the little boy continued to run off. Meanwhile, Allison was a little whiney because she wanted a particular Dora bathing suit and I was on the fence about it.
I had asked the Big One to please stop whining and let me think about it. She was semi-compliant. So back to the aforementioned little boy, his mother had gotten annoyed enough to finally being the “counting.”
All the sudden we hear, “UNO… DOS….” I honestly don’t know how far she got in her counting because I was too busy laughing in hysterics at the Big One.
As soon as she heard the countdown, albeit in Spanish, she started screaming, “NO! I wanna sit down!” It was classic…. I suppose the “One…. Two…. Three” tactic of discipline is universal!!
Child Birth ~ Lasting Implications
In addition to my precious, wonderful, angelic little children, child birth has left me with some other lasting implications.
There are the obvious ones that most moms lament about: stretch marks, leaky boobs, weird shaped tummies and an enormous tolerance for pain, and then there is my personal favorite – a little problem with bladder control. Yes, I admit that I tend to pee a little each time I sneeze, cough, or laugh really hard. I know this is probably too much information for many of you, but deal with it, it’s my life here.
The Big One is almost 3 so I am pretty used to the leaky bladder problem. Yes I also admit that I wear a pad everyday to prevent embarrassment in public since I never know when a sneeze is going to sneak up on me.
Today I discovered another trigger for my bladder problems, of course when I say I “discovered” it, what I really mean is that I peed myself today and there wasn’t a darn thing I could do about it.
I know you are on the edge of your seat wondering what triggered my episode today, so I’ll give you the official Wikipedia definition for the phenomenon that caused my demise today.
“The term sonic boom is commonly used to refer to the shocks caused by the supersonic flight of a military aircraft or passenger transports such as Concorde (Mach 2.02, no longer in service) and the Space Shuttle (up to Mach 27). Sonic booms generate enormous amounts of sound energy, sounding a lot like an explosion. …”
Yes, the sonic boom. Most of you probably have never heard a sonic boom, so let me try to explain it you. You’ve probably heard a car back fire and have jumped at the noise. Well multiply that by about 350 times and make it last about 4 times longer and there you have it.
Since we moved to the high desert, we’ve heard numerous sonic booms. Of course we have been in the house each time so it is greatly muffled. Today I was getting the Big One out of the car when the boom struck. Holy crap! I jumped about 6 feet in the air and the Big One jumped about 3(she is short, you know!) I honest to goodness peed a little on myself. Yes, it scared the pee right out of me.
So thank you U.S. Air Force for the sonic boom and yet another reminder of what my body went through to produce my precious little beings.
Two-Year-Olds and Potty Humor
The Big One is in no way, shape or form potty trained. In fact she is pretty much freaked out by the concept of sitting on the potty. Yes she is aware of when she is going because she will tell us point blank, “Mommy, I goin’ pee-pee,” or the more blunt, “Mommy, I poopin’.” But when it comes to doing the deed anywhere other than a diaper she wants nothing to do with it.
So the other night she was in the bathtub with her sister, as usual. We have those foam letters that float and stick to the tub walls that they play with. They are great for helping Allison learn her letters and they are good teethers for the Little One.
The Husband got the Little One out of the tub and was getting her jammies on and putting her down to sleep while I finished up the Big One’s tubby-time. As time neared for the Big One to get out I gave her the two minute warning and asked her to start cleaning up the letters and other toys.
She willingly obliged and thought she was done when the letter “P” was the only thing left in the tub. So the conversation went something like this:
ME: “Big One, you missed the ‘P’”
Big One: “NO! I didn’t pee!”
ME: “Big One, the yellow “P” is still floating in the tubby.”
{Disclaimer: yes, the “P” is yellow and on this particular evening Allison got to pick a color for the tubby. We have those Crayola bath fizzy things that change the water colors. On this particular evening she picked….. yes, you guessed it yellow. So she is sitting in yellow water.}
Big One: “There no pee in the tubby”
ME: “Big One the letter “P” is floating in the tubby still, you need to put it away.”
Big One: ~ scooping up a hand full of water~ “Mommy there no pee in the tubby.”
At this point the Husband finished with the Little One and comes in to check on us. Upon hearing the conversation and recognizing the irony of the water color he starts laughing. Now for anyone who has ever been around a two-year-old laughing means encouragement, so the conversation continued.
ME: “Big One, please pick up the letter “P” and put it away.”
Big One: “Mommy did you pee in the tubby?”
ME: “No Big One, mommy is not in the tubby and besides, mommy pees on the potty like a big girl.”
Big One: “I pee in my diaper.”
ME: “Yes, Big One you pee in your diaper. Please put the “P” away.”
Big One: “If I pee on the potty, I get a M&M and a Dora sticker.”
ME: “Yes, if you pee on the potty you do get an M&M and a sticker. But right now you need to put the “P” away..
Big One: “There is no pee in the tubby. I didn’t pee!”
ME: “Big One the “P” is behind your back, please pick it up and put it away.”
Big One: ~ Grabbing her behind~ “Mommy is there pee in the tubby?”
UGH! Yes, I finally gave in picked up the “P”, handed it to Big One and told her to put it away.
Big One: “Mommy, there the “P”… for PAPA and Pizza!!”
Ahhhhhh, the great joys. At least she recognizes the letter “P”.
Note to Self….
Tonight is the beginning of Daylight Savings Time…. do not forget this tomorrow when trying to get the kids to sleep! {see previous post}
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