Letters to Isabel, Months 37 and 38

Dearest Isabel,

Boy, I seem to have fallen very behind on these letters. That did not take long, did it? We are having an awesome summer together. Honestly, we have just been having too much fun to sit down and blog about it. It is almost too fast, I wish I could put our lives in slow motion right now. It does not feel like there is enough time to properly soak in all the joy in our lives.

Your mama has always had trouble during times like these. When there is a crisis to deal with, I am The Prepared One. I know how to function, to get through things one day at a time. It seems counterintuitive to complain when things are going so great, and I am working really hard to just enjoy our life and not scramble around trying to figure out when the other shoe is going to drop.

You help me so much in this, dearest. Yesterday during the little kids’ naptime you were waiting impatiently for me to get done with my chores so that I could read you a story.

“Not now, honey.” I kept saying. “I’m just too busy”.

Then I remembered that I was supposed to be including you in the clean up process, to teach you about responsibility and ensure that you learned to take pride in accomplishing tasks which leads to a healthy self-esteem and blah blah blah. I turned to you dutifully.

“Isabel, can you be my biiiiiiig helping girl and pick up these toys?”
You glanced at me balefully from the sofa.
“Not now, Mommy. I’m just too busy!”

Touché, little one.

Eventually we finished our clean up and finally snuggled up on the couch together. You heaved a great big sigh and said,

“Ahhhhhhh! The best part of the day!”

I can’t begin to describe how that felt, and the sunshine that you bring into my life at the most unexpected moments. When I am tired, frustrated, feeling sorry for myself, ready to sell you to the gypsies; all it takes is one little sweet word from you, one unexpected kiss, to bring me to my knees with gratitude. And I know that I am not alone in this. You spread smiles like peanut butter, to anyone and everyone you meet. You are the friendliest little thing, and you looooove an audience. We recently took a trip to Philly to visit your Aunt Katie; and while we were there you took your first cab ride. You hopped in and immediately started bombarding the driver with your usual barrage of questions,

“Guy? Hey guy! Look at my new shoes, guy! They’re soo beauuutiful! Guy? We’re going to a fancy restaurant, guy! A faaaaaancy restaurant! Just like Fancy Nancy! Hey, guy, talk to me! Are you driving, guy? When are you gonna talk? When you stop driving. When you stoooooop driving you can talk to me, ok, guy? When you stop…”

This continued for 23 minutes. No joke. I don’t know how that driver managed it, but he did not look at you or acknowledge your existence once. You were flabbergasted. You had never met an adult that did not melt into putty with one bat of your eyelashes. This guy was not amused by you. Your Dad and Aunt Grace and I could not stop laughing.

You are constantly cracking us up. One of your favorite games begins with you running up to your Daddy and asking, “What do you eat for breakfast, Daddy?” His eyes will widen dramatically and he will answer, “I eat THREE YEAR OLD GIRLS!” He then will chase you around and pretend to gobble you up. A few weeks ago, in the midst of this game you screeched, “Don’t eat me Daddy! I’m too skinny!” Where do you come up with stuff?

Oh my goodness, I don’t know how I can cram in everything I want to remember about you at this stage in your life. The way you pretend to be a dinosaur. The way you tenderly mother your Duckie through imaginary illnesses. The way you bop your head and sing along to your favorite songs on the radio. The way your eyes widen when you are about to do something silly. How whenever I get stressed out or grumpy you pat me tenderly on the arm and say, “Don’t worry, Mommy. Everything will be all right.”

It’s more than all right, darling. It is wonderful.

Love,

Mama

Sooooo

The last 24 hours have been a TOTAL SUCKFEST.

• Suck Number One: Last night right before dinner the eldest Sparkets child started complaining about her ears. "Shoot," we thought, "hope she doesn't have an ear infection." The complaining turned into screaming which turned into vomiting; at which point we thought, "Dang. Hope she doesnt have an alien hatchling in her head". At which point we took her to the ER.




• Suck Number Two: Turned out to be a double ear infection. Actually, that's not really a suck, given the alternatives. But I nearly punched the doctor when she told us that we hadn't really needed to bring her in on a weekend like this, next time maybe we should just give her some ibuprofrin and call our pediatrician on Monday. Excuse me, but did you not just watch this child scream herself into vomit-y hysterics? Do you realize that I rushed out of the house wearing pants that have a fist-sized hole in the crotch (hey, I was doing laundry!) DO NOT TELL ME THAT I AM OVER REACTING.

• Suck Number Three: So we are playing on the swingset this afternoon when I looked down to see a rather small mouse climb out of the mulch and begin to creep towards the sliding board. I am not overly afraid of mice; but I am a dainty woman-type, so normally I would have done something dainty and womanly like shriek and/or collapse on a chaize lounge. But there was something about this mouse that was...odd. So odd that I just stared at it for about 20 seconds incredulously.

That's when I realized. It was grey and fuzzy but it wasn't a mouse.

It was a freaking mouse sized spider.

Hoooooooly craaaaaaap.

I think I must have shot eight feet into the air like a cartoon character. I then swallowed my hysteria and ordered my two year old to "get Mommy a stick". After bringing me every twig in the yard, she finally came up with a decent weapon-sized stick whick I used to flip the monster out of the mulch onto a patch of dirt and impale it. It was a little something like this:

Then I cried like a big, blubbery baby and the kids stood around me, patting me on the back and saying, "It's OK, Mommy."

So, total suckfest, though looking back it could have been a lot worse.

Letters to Isabel, Month 35

Dear Isabel,

Today you turn 35 months old. Well, technically you turned 35 months old last Tuesday, but we have been way too busy lately for me to get a chance to write this. We had two really fun holidays this month! Now that you are getting old enough to understand and anticipate holidays, I find I am enjoying them like I never have before.



We had a visit from the Leprechauns on Saint Patrick’s Day. They left green footprints all over the place and a special treat for you and your brother. We ate green eggs and ham and made shamrock crafts. Yours was a little abstract.

It basically consisted of you squeezing as much Elmer’s glue as possible out of the bottle before I took it from you and forced you to actually stick things onto your paper with it. Most of your crafts lately look like that. I have to feed my inner perfectionist a loooooot of Valium in order to avoid stifling your creativity. And boy, have you got some creativity.

You, child, are a glorious mess. How I love you for it. You have taught me how to take a deep breath and remind myself that finger-paint will eventually be cleaned up, but that the memories we are making will last forever. And you know what? You are fairly washable. Thank goodness.

Speaking of messes, can we talk about Easter? Oy.



I have many pictures of you looking very cute in your Easter clothes, but this one really sums up the holiday best. Coated inside and out with chocolate, buzzing hard on sugar, and wearing butterfly wings. We had a family party at Nanny’s house and man, did you have a lot of candy. Every adult there took nearly obscene delight in stuffing you full. I almost felt sorry for you. We took you home that afternoon and you curled up on your Dad’s shoulder and said, “Guys? I don’t think we should eat any more candy because it’s not very good for us.” Then I did feel sorry for you. I even threw out the candy you collected during the Easter egg hunt because, really, enough is enough.

All that being said, I hope you are ready to be spoiled rotten yet again in a few more weeks. That is right; the long-awaited birthday party is finally at hand. I may have begun preparing you for this a bit early. For the last month you have talked about little else. It has gotten to the point that any time you ask for anything and I say “no” you reply, “maybe for my birthday?”
It is going to be very fun, though. Hopefully I will be able to keep the sugar to a minimum. I may put the following picture on the fridge to remind myself what happens when you have too much of the white stuff.



Darling girl, it is hard to believe you are going to be three. I don’t know if I am ready. You sure are, though. You have the three-year-old debate skills down pat. For instance, not long ago you were busily jumping up and down when I thought I smelled an accident in your pull-up.

“Isabel”, I said sternly. “Come over here and let me change you.”

Without skipping a beat you bent down and scooped a plastic banana off the floor. You looked at me with the air of one who has the weight of immutable logic on her side. Still hopping, you raised your eyebrows and replied,

“Does a monkey get changed? Nooooo!”

I love you, little monkey, and can’t wait to see what next month brings us.



Love,
Mama

Brought to you by the letter "P"

I only have one item in my make up case that costs more than ten dollars. It's this:

That would be an M.A.C. blush brush. It may not seem like much of a splurge; but consider the fact that I will use the same goopy Wet 'n' Wild mascara for six months until BJ's runs a coupon for it. So a thirty dollar blush brush? Big splurge. But it makes my cheekbones look great.

So here's the scene. Bella is on the potty.

Her clothes are covered in green paint. "Baby Isaac and I are going upstairs for one minute to get you some clean clothes." I say sternly. "Do not get up off this potty."

Well. Those of you who have had an almost-three-year-old know that I may as well have said "Please get up off the potty and do the most disgusting thing imaginable while I am gone." Have you guessed yet? Forty five seconds later I returned to find her painting the bathroom walls with her own pee. Her choice of paintbrush?

I was actually so beyond repulsed and angry that I burst out laughing. Isabel, relieved, laughed as well. Then, before I could decide what to do with the monstrous mess in front of me, she solemnly sprinkled the baby and I with the pee, like a Catholic priest blessing the congregation with holy water.

To be fair, our lesson theme for the day was the letter "P". We made cute little toilet-paper-roll Piggies, hand print Penguins, Painted Pictures of Peacocks, and ate Pasta with Peas. So, I guess this seemed like a fitting end to the morning?

Thank you, God, for a sense of humor. And also for Clorox wipes.

Letters to Isaac, Month 10

Dear Isaac,

Today you turn 10 months old. I was not sure whether I was going to get this letter done today, as things have been pretty topsy-turvy around here lately. Yesterday you came down with a nasty fever, you poor thing. You have spent the last 24 hours lying on my lap like a sad, sad little slug. In addition, yesterday at nap time your big sister discovered the joys of…cue ominous drum roll…

Finger-painting. In case you couldn’t tell by the ominous drum-roll, the medium she chose was most definitely not made by Crayola. You get my drift. All of this has left your Mommy pretty tired and sitting on top of a truly heinous pile of laundry. But I digress.

So much has happened this month with you, I hardly know where to begin. You are crawling, little buddy! You still mainly stick to the belly-crawl, but you are getting up on those hands and knees more and more often. I expected you to be more excited about this newfound ability, but you are so enamored by the idea of walking that you don’t seem much to care.

You. Want. To. Run. You spend a lot of your day propped up against the couch or nearest adult, in love with the sensation of standing on your own two feet. You watch your sister with envious fascination as she thunders around the house. You are trying very hard to get the hang of pulling yourself up on the furniture. It will be soon, buddy, very soon. You even stand on your own for four to five seconds. You have already managed some pretty spectacular conks to your noggin.

It's hard to believe your birthday is in another two months. I have no idea what to get you. You haven't really expressed any strong preferences with regards to playthings. Actually, if I can find anything that makes you half as happy as an empty 20 ounce soda bottle, I'd feel pretty good.

You are still a totally laid back little dude. Really, you’re a happy kid. I have to tell you this because for some reason it is impossible to get a picture of you smiling. Whenever you see the camera, you get this little scowl on your face. You're like, "There she goes with that thing again."

I thought maybe if I put you in your favorite place, doing your absolutely favorite thing, I would be guaranteed a smiling picture. I mean, I have never seen you in your swing without a big smile on your face.

No such luck. And you have the sweetest little shy smile. The girls are already ga-ga for you. You are very friendly, but starting to show a little bit of separation anxiety, which is totally normal for your age.

This doesn’t help with the sleep training. What is up with your sleep patterns? For one whole week you slept nine hours in a row every night! Then you were like, “Psych!” We are making ground, though. No more nursing between the hours of 7pm and 4am. When you wake up during this time, your daddy goes in and calms you down. Hooray, Daddy!

Unless you are sick. Last night we hung out together in the rocking chair for most of the night, And that’s OK. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help you feel better, little man. I hope you kick this thing soon and can go back to being the regular little dynamo of action
you usually are. I love you so much little buddy, and look forward to seeing what you do next month!

Love,
Mama

Letters to Isabel, Month 34

Dear Isabel,

Today you turn 34 months old. I will always remember this as the month of “Here’s what’s going to happen”. Ah, that magic, magic phrase. See, every two weeks our local library has a story time for two year olds. This story time has become a very special tradition for you and Nanny. Every other Thursday she and GG pick you up and take you to the library. Afterwards they take you to McDonald’s for your favorite meal in the whole wide world, chicken nuggets and “tench fries”.


Well, two weeks ago I had scheduled your brother’s routine checkup for Thursday morning during your library time. Nanny called just as we were leaving to say that she was taking you home early due to the fact that you had morphed into the biggest spaz this side of the Mississippi. No story time. No tench fries. You were both crushed. I went to pick you up from her house and when I saw you there sheepishly eating your turkey sandwich I was filled with this great sadness for you. At your age it is primarily my responsibility to help you learn how to behave. The truth is, lately it had become much easier to give into your tantrums than to discipline you consistently. I thought I had been doing my best, but I realized at that moment that I could do better.

So. That day began The Crackdown. The new policy was: We would make sure we were taking the time to explain what we expected of you. We would make sure that our expectations were reasonable. We would employ a zero tolerance policy when it came to acting up. Rather than letting the behavior go on for several minutes, we would put you right in time out.








Pshew! Sounds rough, huh? And it was rough. For about 6 hours. The first day of The Crackdown saw you in Time Out about 8 times before lunch. Then something happened. You began to act up that afternoon, and I gave you a stern look and said, “Are you going to disobey?” You thought about it for a minute and decided it wasn’t worth it. Finally, we were getting on the same page. I probably ask you that question ten times a day now. Sometimes you say, “yes”, but most of the time you get yourself under control. I am so proud of you, I could burst!





Our communication has reached another level these last few weeks. Sometime during The Crackdown, it occurred to us that we seemed to be having most of our problems during transition times, or unfamiliar experiences. That’s when we discovered, “Here’s what’s going to happen”. Before a transition, or before we begin something that we know you won’t like, or if you are just starting to get anxious, your Dad or I will look you in the eye and say, “Isabel, here’s what’s going to happen…”. We will describe the event to you in great detail. And about ninety percent of the time, you move smoothly into the activity with little fuss. Magic! Turns out you just really don’t like things being sprung on you.

Not a surprise. You are very into control these days. Even more so than most other kids your age, I think. You don’t like being hugged or kissed, unless you initiate the contact. You hate being tickled, but every now and then you will lie down on the floor and tickle yourself. It drives you completely mad that your brother is starting to cruise the furniture and get into your toys. You’ve taken to carrying around armloads of your favorite toys to keep them safe from his deadly grasp. We call it your Entourage. Here you are simultaneously protecting two Duckies, a hippo, a tiny rabbit, a plastic hanger which you have decided is a candy cane, and your fire truck. Being a big sister is exhausting!



All this has not boded well for potty training. You are a smart kid and you get the idea. You are not opposed to it, per se, but you really want your bodily functions to adhere to your schedule. You do not like having to plan your activities around the potty. We’ve promised you that when you are a “big girl” that we will get you a goldfish, and you want one. Bad. So at this point we are just waiting. But we do have a preschool deadline, honey. The deposit is paid and everything, so…any day now, okay?

You are definitely ready for preschool. You ask to go there almost every day. This is a huge shocker, as you have always acted as though all other children are covered in acid and the merest contact with one will burn you. You’ve become a lot more comfortable around other kids for some reason. Yay! I can’t wait to see how you do there. I can’t wait to see what the next month brings. Every day it seems I get to know you a little bit better as your vocabulary and your imagination and your communication skills grow. You are an extraordinary little person, and I am so blessed to have you in my life.
Love,
Mama

Is this what Awake feels like?

So we went to see our pediatrician yesterday for Isaac's nine month check up. He told us on no uncertain terms that a nine and a half month old is old enough to sleep through the night. He said that if I choose to keep getting up with him three times a night it will not cause any psychological damage or anything like that, but it is not necessary at this point. He also delicately asked whether Isaac was making up for the lost sleep during the day. Nope. And you know what? The little guy is just looking tired lately.

I feel really ready for sleep training now. I've said that before, but I feel ready for it in a new way. So last night I went downstairs and slept on the couch. My super stud of a husband offered to go in every half hour that Isaac was crying and reassure him. And you know what? We all slept wonderfully. I haven't slept for five hours in a row like that for oh, I don't know, about nine and a half months? And the Mister said he didn't have to get up once. Isaac woke up in a great mood at 6:45 am and we are like a bright, shiny new family.

I am fully prepared for the possibility that this was a tremendous fluke and that we are going to be in for the fight of our lives when we try it again tonight. But you know what? I'll take it.

Toddlers + Too much rain = Crazy

Well I am working on a hugegantic post about my weekend, but I wanted to quickly share a super fun activity that we just discovered.

First off, I want to say that I love my job. I cannot think of anything I would rather be doing every day than taking care of my family. But today was just one of those days. Isaac was nuts because he missed his morning nap, and Bella was nuts because the weather was bad and she hadn't been outside all day. I was just nuts, and we were all feeding off of each other's moods. You could cut the crazy with a knife around here.

The solution? Pudding painting! Now I am sure that many an innovative Mommy has come up with this idea before, but it was a new one for us. I took off the kid's shirts, put Bella at the table with a cup of pudding and a pastry brush, and let her go to town. I put Isaac in his high chair and opened a tub of Gerber sweet potatoes and let him do the same. They painted the tables, chairs, themselves, and each other. They had so much fun.

I'll admit I had to hog-tie my inner neat freak and sit on her for about twenty minutes. You can't start a mess like that and then expect to keep it under control. I kept finding myself saying, "No no...not in your...oh my...not the...aw, hell..."

But you know what? Totally worth it. By the time they were done and bathed, we were like a different family. And I have an ace up my sleeve for this afternoon. We are going to blow up the air mattress and jump around on it, then build a fort. Did I mention that I love my job?

So how do you pass your rainy days? I'd love to hear any suggestions. I'm running low on pudding.

Adventures in Lesson Planning

I’ve run across a few great preschool activity websites that I’d like to share.
Most of these were recommended to me by our neighbor, who is a former preschool teacher. I am hoping to get a home daycare business off the ground in the next few months, and am beginning to experiment with lesson plans and schedules and such. I hope to follow more of a structured routine when I start doing daycare, and we are beginning to ease ourselves into that routine now so it won’t be too big of a change for any of us.

I have started off with very simple themes. So far we have done a different letter sound every day. I will print out a few coloring pages that correspond to that letter sound, and pick two crafts that correspond as well. I usually only get to one of the crafts, but I’ve found it’s best to have one in reserve just in case. You never know whether something will capture their attention for twenty minutes or two minutes!

So far I haven’t done very much planning in advance. Usually the night before I will spend about ten minutes printing out what I need; then do all the cutting and prep work for the various crafts while Isabel is working on the coloring pages. That will have to change when I have more kids. I also hope to have my themes and activities planned out a month in advance. It will all depend on the ages of the particular kids I get.

I’m also trying to build up my repertoire of indoor fitness activities. This site had some neat ideas. A few days ago we had an all-day deluge and I got to test out a bunch of them. I was surprised at the ones that held her attention. Paper plate skating was fun, but it only lasted about two minutes. Ribbon dancing, however, got her moving for an entire Raffi album. It got me to work up a sweat as well-bonus!
All in all, I am really excited about this opportunity. Isabel is having the best time with our new routine. I wish I had started doing more of these types of activities with her earlier. It always seemed a little overwhelming. But having a few good websites with free printables has made it a breeze. If you’re thinking about starting a home daycare, or if you just want to spice up life with a preschooler, I can’t recommend them enough.

I found these duck templates on the First-School site. They are meant to be used on a felt board, but I attached magnets to the backs and stuck them to a cookie sheet. She loved it. We used them to act out the Five Little Ducks song, practiced counting forward and backward, talked about Big versus Little...you get the idea.

Here are sites I've been using the most often:

• http://www.first-school.ws/ I particularly like the alphabet worksheets on this one
• http://www.dltk-kids.com/ Great Bible themed crafts. They also have good ideas regarding taking a paper craft and making it appropriate for different age groups.
• http://teach-nology.com/ I actually haven't explored this one too much, but they have some unusual coloring pages I am looking forward to trying.
• http://www.kinderart.com/ A little more commercial-y (does that make sense?). But has some neat project ideas.

That's about the it. If anybody out there has any good ideas, I'd love to hear them. Enjoy!

Letters to Isaac, Month 9

Dear Isaac,

Today you turn 9 months old. Holy smokes, little one, how did that happen? All of a sudden you are a Big Baby. I’ve had to get all of the Big Baby toys out of storage. Of course, you still prefer your sister’s toys over those boring baby things. Or better yet, finding practically invisible dirt on the floor and eating it. Lately that particular activity has become your reason d’etre. I vacuum every single day, yet you always manage to find a spot I’ve missed. The other day, I swear, you crawled to the edge of the area rug, lifted it up, found a clump of dirt underneath, and had it halfway to your mouth before I could get to you. How do you do it, buddy?

Sometimes I feel bad that I tend to describe you by comparing you to your sister. It just amazes me how different you two are. Where she has always been a thinker and a plotter; you are a go-er and a getter. While she tests out new experiences with one toe before jumping in; you shut your eyes and do a cannonball. You have picked up the army crawl with lightning speed. You barrel around the house with little to no caution and an alarming excess of curiosity. I have no idea what I am going to do when you are faster than I am.

It’s hard to believe that you are going to be a year old in three months. Your dad and I are really looking forward to the big Family Birthday Bash we are going to throw. I have a feeling that you are going to rock it out, little man. We had so much fun with you on Christmas. Your sister was a bit overwhelmed by it this year, and treated us all to a healthy dose of two year old temper. But you? You squealed appropriately at all your presents, didn’t eat too many pine needles off of the tree, and even obligingly sacked out on your great grandma’s lap toward the end of the morning.

All in all, you are an absolute delight. I am so enjoying watching you discover the world. You take such unbridled pleasure in each and every new experience. You absolutely love solid food, and are chomping at the bit to try finger food. Quit growing up so fast, kiddo! You are beginning to babble, and whenever you see your Daddy, you break into an ecstatic “Da da da da!” You have that man wrapped around your little fingers. And you are so much like him already, it’s uncanny. Not only are you his spitting image, but you are very alike in temperament. Ninety nine percent of the time, you are two of the most easygoing, laid back people I have ever met. That other one percent of the time, when you have really set your mind on something, God help anyone who stands in your way. I’ve never met anyone more stubborn!

Speaking of which, little man, can we just talk about the sleep thing? Because seriously, I am getting tired. You are still pretty much up every two to three hours all night. Sleep training has been an unmitigated disaster. Your Dad and I are gearing up for another desperate attempt, as we really don’t want to be doing this when you are two. So have a heart, honey. I can promise you a much happier, more patient Mommy once we get this thing figured out. With that being said, I have really been enjoying our mornings together. You are up between five and six, while your sister usually sleeps until seven or eight. It guarantees me a little precious alone time with you every day, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I can’t wait to see what next month will bring us, and though I can’t imagine you being any more delightful, I’m sure you will be.


You are the heart of my heart,

Mama

Letters to Isabel, Month 33

Dear Bella Boo Who,

Today you turn 33 months old. I can’t believe it has been this long and I have yet to write you one of these letters. You have grown and changed so much, and the time has just flown. I wish I could go back and write you one for each precious month. There is already so much I’ve forgotten. And sometimes it’s hard to realize that you won’t remember any of this. The hours we spent pacing the floors together when you were tiny, those two weeks when you would only sleep on my chest while I sat in the rocking chair, the way your sharp, clever little mind takes in everything around you.

But let’s just stick with this month, eh kidderino? You continue to be one of the smartest, most verbal two year olds I’ve ever met. Your new favorite word is “acceptable”. I have no idea where you picked it up, but you actually use it properly in sentences. Any time you ask for anything now it’s, “is that acceptable, Mommy?” Hilarious. You still mix your pronouns up most of the time (“You” means “Me” and vice versa) but you are starting to change that. Thaaat’s a little confusing. But we will get there.

You also continue to be obsessed with cars and ducks. You’ve displayed a passing interest in the Disney Princesses, but you still prefer Lightning McQueen. And that’s cool. I love that about you. But I get so frustrated about how kids’ things are so polarized by gender these days. Cause you know what? You also really dig tutus, ballerinas, and make up. In fact, a few days ago I saw you trying to put a tutu on one of your trucks. When I tell people about your love of all things wheeled, they tend to nod knowingly and say “Ah, a tomboy.” And I usually don’t bother to reply. Because when I explain that your intensely unique personality just can’t be summarized by one word like that they usually nod again and say, “Don’t worry, she’ll grow out of it.”

I hope you never do, darling. Because what I see in you is a determination not to be a cliché. You like what you like, whether you are supposed to or not. Good for you. I hope you never feel like you have to fit anyone else’s mold. You are an amazing little person, and every day that I get to know you a little better is a privilege.

This month we’ve seen you get back on the potty training horse. I am still determined to not turn this into a power struggle (cause let’s face it, I’m not sure if I would win). But I’m also looking forward to preschool next year, and if you are not potty trained you won’t get to go. And I think you are going to love it. Well, that’s a lie. You are going to hate it. Let’s face it; you are not crazy about most other kids. And large groups of kids your age tend to send you into paroxysms of anxious fury. After which you cling to the nearest adult like a life buoy in a sea of rabid sharks. With laser beams attached to their heads. Therefore, darling, you must go to preschool. You will adjust. Then you will love it, I promise.

You are getting along a little better with your brother this month. You still treat him as though he were a dangerous type of snake. But every now and then you psych yourself up and lean over and touch him. Carefully. While keeping your torso as far away from him as possible. Then you look up and wait for the Big People to go “Aww!” It cracks me up that he terrorizes you so much already. If he gets within a foot of you, you start shouting “He doesn’t want to get you!”
Here’s a tip, honey. You can run. He can’t. Enjoy it while it lasts. He’s crazy about you, though. And I know that when you are ready, you’re really going to have fun with him too. You’re just going about it the way you go about everything else. In your own sweet time.

I love you,

Mama

Potty Training

Just when I thought it was impossible for me to become more preoccupied with poop…

When you’re a parent, you think a lot about poop. The presence of too much of it, the absence of it, sometimes even the consistence and/or color of it become regular topics of conversation.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Lately my main poop-related concern has been the monumental task of getting it into one of these receptacles:






We are making some progress, though. And I’ve learned a few things.

1. You are a slave to the potty. When your child says that they have to go, you go. Right now.

2. Specific descriptions of rewards work better. For a long time I told her that if she went on the potty she would get a “big treat”. Not interested. When I showed her the bag of M&Ms, and described them in great detail, it made a big difference. For the next few days I would hear her muttering to herself “There are green M&Ms, and red ones and yellow ones and blue ones. But not silver.” Then, like magic, she went.

3. You can’t really spell “M&Ms” aloud as a way of talking about them to another adult without your toddler catching on.

4. Don’t expect your two year old to understand why this is such a big frickin’ deal. The first time we saw pee in that potty, Mr. Monkeysparkets and I did a conga line through the kitchen, singing, “Pee-pee in the Po-ttee! Pee-pee in the Po-tee!” She looked at us like, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you people, but you’d better deliver the M&Ms before you go completely bonkers.” It doesn't matter, though. I never thought it was possible to feel so proud of someone for not peeing in their pants. They grow up so fast...