Patience and Motivation

Be warned: I am going to talk about poop.

To whomever is the Patron Saint of Poop, you have answered my prayers and I thank you for this glimmer of hope that my life will someday soon be diaper-free. At least for Turbo. Smiley is still under 12 months... but I hear girls are easier, so, what do you think, she'll be ready at 12 months + 1 day? ;)

Last Sunday we saw a major turn of events in this house. As previously mentioned, we had great success right away with Turbo staying dry and peeing in the potty. BM's not so much. But whatever, I have a lot of patience.

Well, 3 weeks later and I've had it up to here with patience. Just effing poop in the damn potty whydon'tcha. That was my inside voice; on the outside, I was still able to keep it together like a cheerleader smiling through the last quarter of a losing championship game.

I had been offering motivational brides in exchange for some poo action. M&M's, extra movie watching... none of it was working.

So, finally, last Sunday I took Turbo shopping at Target. I had this brilliant idea that maybe if I got him a new Thomas the Train character he'd be motivated that way.

I steered the cart down an aisle with Thomas & Friends, Toy Story 3, and Cars 2. Whoa. Turbo had never seen this merchandising world. His eyes darted around, soaking it all in. He said things like, "Mom! Look! Thomas! Is that my Thomas?" and before I could answer, he'd spot something else and exclaim, "Mom! Look! Woody & Buzz! Can I have that?" And on, and on.

It was so cute to see Turbo's eyes light up at seeing his favorite DVD characters prancing in front of his innocent little face. And my hopes for a successful bribe soared.

We settled on a small package of 2 action figures, Woody & Buzz, and I told him he could hold the package, but couldn't open it to play with them until he pooped in the potty. I saw the deal click in his brain and thought, maybe, just maybe, this will work.

That evening he went potty, with the unopened Woody & Buzz in hand, and it finally happened.

"Mom! Look! I pooped in the potty! Can I open it now?"

"Yes!" and I swear, I almost cried and nearly took a photo. No photo! Don't worry. :)

I knew he wouldn't be in Pull-Ups forever, but I swear it was starting to feel like it might never happen. Every day is not perfect, but every night since then he has done his doody (hee hee) in the potty.

There is hope and its name is Woody & Buzz (& Zurg). Did I mention on the walk up the stairs to that triumphant poo, Turbo asked for Zurg too. I would have agreed to anything at that point. I made a special trip to get Zurg on my lunch break the next day.

Worth. Every. Penny.

It's All About Perspective

Last winter we had a little snow. Too little for any real fun, but we did what we could with what we got. For the couple of snow days we had around here, Turbo and daddy got all bundled up and walked around in the winter wonderland that was our neighborhood.

Those days were quiet and beautiful and very, very bright. Crunch, crunch, crunch goes the snow under the boots.

Infant Smiley and I stayed nice and warm in the house during those treks, and so it seemed only fair to greet the red-nosed lads with something warm to drink when they came back inside.

Hot cocoa for all. Yum!

Tonight, in, a-hem, late July, Turbo says to us as we're trying to get him to go to bed, "Can I have cocoa?"

Dad bends down and whispers in his ear, "Yes. The next time it snows you can have cocoa." Dad and Mom give each other knowing looks. We got this one, that's right. He'll probably forget about it by then.

2 seconds later...

"Dad! It's snowing!"

Um, no, it's not, but A for effort, Junior.

1, 2, 3... Pasta!

Imagine you are a swimming pool and a small child is running at you to perform his very best cannonball right on top of you.

That's what I felt like tonight, as Turbo asked me to lie on the floor next to the coffee table. I should have had some kind of clue of what was coming, but in my sleep-deprived state, I laid down obediently and awaited my next instructions.

Turbo climbed onto the coffee table and before I could think to say, 'no,' I am suddenly the recipient of a tiny cannonball butt flying in my direction, with the war cry:

"1, 2, 3... Pasta!"

This Is Why I Have Kids

This morning I took both kids to daycare. It's not always easy since we're potty training Turbo, and we have 2 different daycares, and Smiley has to get dropped off first. I have to balance driving safely with getting there fast enough so Turbo doesn't pee his pants. Or worse. Tick-Tock.

This morning when I was about 10 minutes away from Smiley's daycare, Turbo calls out from the back seat, "Mom! I'm holding Smiley's hand."

I smile. Sure you are. "That's great, honey,"I say.

When I pull into the parking lot, I turn around and this is what I see:

My breath caught and I nearly cried from the dear and darling sweetness of it all.

They stayed like this for the photo op and I actually had to pry their hands apart to get Smiley out of her car seat.

It's moments like this that make me so grateful to have been given the gift of these children.

Finding Time

Goodness, it's been a long week.

I have had several winning blog topics cross my path this past week, but we had a little sleep problem creep up in my house and it just goes to show you (or me, rather) that a lack of sleep affects everything.

I think Smiley is teething. At least I hope that's what is going on with her. Other than her 6-9 month obligatory I-will-not-sleep-well phase, she's been a pretty good sleeper. I've come to rely on this. Sure, she wakes a wee bit early around 5 AM, but she also wakes with smiles and endless chatter and is good for about 20 minutes of warm snuggles in our bed. I need those 20 minutes to pry my eyelids open.

Last night it felt like we had a newborn in the house. I could travel to Hawaii with the bags under my eyes. Ugh.

It was Sunday, so I was finishing making Smiley's food supply for the week - blend some soup, chop some carrots and egg yolks and bananas, and mix the pumpkin+apple+cilantro+chili power that she loves.

Around 10 PM, when I was just sitting down to write her schedule out for the daycare (new routine just started, so notes are helpful), Smiley decided she was no longer interested in sleep and would rather stand up, hold the railing and holler, "MOOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYY!" -- or at least that is what my special decoder ring told me.

2 hours of me trying a bottle, cuddles, rocking, walking, teething gel, and even telling her firmly to go to sleep (it was worth a shot, right?), I gave in and assumed she was hurting somewhere.

We walked downstairs, where my poor, bleary-eyed husband was washing bottles and Smiley is looking downright perky to be up so late hangin' with Ma and Pa. She actually giggled. But, then, I giggle when I'm that exhausted too.

Tylenol to the rescue and she was asleep within 30 minutes and I crawled into my own bed. Relax.

Not so fast, mom. Now it's Turbo's turn to cry out. I think he did pretty well for 2 hours of nearly non-stop crying and super loud noises from his baby sister.

Back to work I go.

I finally got in my own bed around 3:30 AM.

See. Newborn stuff.

Zzz.

Sweet Lullabies

While reading bedtime books to Turbo tonight, he specifically asked for a book of songs.

I slowly opened the book to "Ba Ba Black Sheep" and as I began singing, this is how we rather quickly finished the book.

Me: sweetly, "Ba ba black sheep, have you any wool?"

Turbo: "YES!"

And then he turned pages as fast as he could until the book was closed.

There is a reason his nickname is Turbo.

NEXT!

Bossypants

Turbo is sometimes known around here as "The Director." He directs much of our activity with favorite phrases like, "No. You stay there," and "Daddy, you want to eat Wheaties," (even if my husband is in the middle of scrambling eggs).

His new trick is related to potty training. Our bathroom is on the upper level of our house, requiring a stair climb to go to the potty. His new little routine goes a little something like this:

Turbo: "Mom, you stay at the bottom and ask me, 'Turbo, can I come up?'"

I oblige, but am also certain to correct his grammar (it's never too early, right?), "May I come up too, Turbo?"

Turbo: dramatic pause whilst he considers the request, and finally, "Yes, you can come up, mom."


Tonight I was reading books to Turbo in our bed - some extra cuddling before he heads off to his own bed (favorite thing!). We read an old GoldenBook copy of Dumbo, and Three Bears & Goldilocks, and sang some songs. I love this time with him. Blissful sigh.

When my husband came to fetch him to take him to his own room, Turbo turns to me and says, "Mom, you stay here and read your books."

Done and done (except for this little blog post - shh, don't tell Turbo).

Girl Clothes

I'm an avid movie quoter. If you are not such an avid movie quoter, or much of a movie watcher, and you've ever had a conversation with me, it's possible some of the brilliant prose I've thrown your way was not my own. I can't really apologize for that, cuz I think it's kind of funny.

There is one line from the movie Always that has stuck with me over the years. Holly Hunter plays this lady firefighter who hangs out with a bunch of guys and so tends to also dress like one of the guys. There is a birthday scene where her boyfriend, Richard Dreyfuss, gives her a sparkly, white dress. She gasps and exclaims, "Girl clothes!"

I use this quote whenever I dress up for some special occasion like a wedding or a date with my husband. Date with my husband? What's that? Sheesh... I guess it's been a while.

But back to my point, and it is this. I love girl clothes. These days I'm especially fond of the ones that come in size 12 months.

I've been trying to devise clever ways to post pics of my adorable children without showing their faces. I think this does the trick.

Look at those chubby little legs. Dang, Smiley, you wear the layered look well.

Parking Skills

Do you ever find yourself in this situation?

I pulled into Smiley's daycare this morning and the only parking spot left was in between a couple of cars, both of which were not quite parked according to painted lines. To be fair, there are faded lines of confusion in this particular lot, but most of us usually get it right.

This morning, I had plenty of cushy space on either side of my car because the cars on either side of me where taking up extra space. In the end, our 3 cars took up 4 parking spots. Oops.

So I did what I had to do and parked in between them, only to come out of the building 15 minutes later to find both of those cars gone and now I look like the idiot who can't park!

People, I swear the other guys did it wrong first.

Please believe me.

Sigh.

Three Is A Magical Number

Tonight we told Turbo that he has a middle name and a last name. I would have thought 3 whole names could be kind of a cool discovery, but I'm not sure there was much impact in this news. I'll let you be the judge.


INT. TURBO'S HOUSE - DINNER TABLE - NIGHT

Me: excitedly, "Turbo, do you know that you have 2 names?"

Turbo: head swivels and big eyes stare back at me in anticipation. "What?"

Me: "Turbo, you have 2 names - Turbo ------."

Turbo: "What I have?"

Me: "Well, actually, you have 3 names, Turbo. Your name is Turbo ---- -------."

Turbo: "What I have? I have 3 chocolates." He says, pointing to the cupboard where we're keeping the M&M's as potty training incentives.


Maybe he's a little too young, but I bet he'll bring it up again in a few days. That's the kind of thing he does.

That Baby is Not For Sale

Yesterday afternoon I took Smiley to the Goodwill. That is, to say, she was in the car with me as I drove a bunch of unneeded stuff to the Goodwill.

But I didn't take her to the Goodwill. Or so I thought.

We were in the drive-through line marked DONATIONS, when I noticed some peculiar behavior from my fellow Goodwillers (Goodwillians?). At first I thought they were walking by my car to get to their own car, which makes a lot of sense, since the line for donations is located within the parking lot.

After the 3rd or 4th person filing by us, I started to doubt whether all of these people could be headed for that same dusty red pick-up.

Then it dawned on me. They were looking inside my car to see if I had anything good to donate.

Hey, you! My daughter is not for sale!

These Feet Were Made for Talking

Turbo has gotten in the adorable 2-year-old habit of repeatedly saying to me, "Mom, look at me," whenever he has something really important that he simply must tell me right away. It often goes a little something like this.

Turbo: "Mom, look at me."

Mom: [can't look because she is simultaneously making dinner an entertaining an overtired and ready for bed Smiley.]

Turbo: "Mom, look at me. [pause] Mom, look at me. [very short pause] Mom, look at me."

Mom: looking, "Yes, my patient darling?"

Turbo: "Kachow!"

This is followed by a huge grin and an expectant smile as if it's the first time I've heard something so completely fantastic. I oblige with an "oh, wow!" or a hearty laugh.

This weekend, I was very proud of myself for responding to the very first "Mom, look at me" and when I was staring him straight in his eyeballs and he still repeated, "Mom, look at me" it suddenly dawned on me: oh my word, he's talking about his feet. Or, more accurately, his feet are the ones asking me to pay attention.

So, I make an exaggerated movement to clearly indicate that I am now, as instructed, looking at his left foot, which, by the way, is raised off the floor and ready with a little kick and... you guessed it,

"KACHOW!"

The Brown Store

Potty training has been going mostly well. I had originally planned on writing daily updates, but a favorite uncle of mine reminded me that not everyone is as interested in poop as I am. I certainly hope the fascination will fade for me, but it's part of my life right now. So there.

Here are some highlights from the first week.

Good news! We've mostly had dry underpants all week. Here is the report card from his first day at daycare without Pull-Ups. Each report card was similar, which is great. Way to (literally) go, Turbo!

You'll notice, if you dare click on the image, that he had a poop accident. At daycare, we refer to this as a "BM" and I hope I don't have to explain what that means. It's all very tidy to talk in terms of a BM. No gag reflex on that innocuous term.

So, yeah. The BM's have not been going quite as smoothly (did I really just write that? hee hee). The kid seems to have no care whether or not he craps in the can or his underpants. Any tips on that from seasoned mothers of boys?

But, whatever, I'm trying to be casual about it, following Turbo's own speed.

If poop can be funny, the funniest thing so far is this:  while watching his own poo flush down the toilet, Turbo proclaimed, "He's going to the brown store."

Me: "The what?"
Turbo repeats: "He's going to the brown store."

It makes perfect sense if you think about it. And if you're a 2.5+ year old.

In Mama's Shoes

I guess when you wear your mama's shoes, there is really no reason to put them on the correct feet.

Let's Go Fly a Kite

... and send it snoring.

Turbo sang this at the top of his lungs this morning, while dancing in the kitchen with me. You gotta love not-quite-right song lyrics.

Let's go fly a kite
Up to the highest height
Let's go fly a kite
and send it snoring  (s/r soaring)
Up to the atta-sneer (s/r atmosphere)
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let's go.... fly a kite

Two New Teef

I'll have to get a photo posted of this soon, but until I do I at least want to acknowledge that Smiley's smile is changing.

She's had her two front bottom teeth for a couple of months. They might even be all the way in. Last week she popped both top front teeth and it's a friendly reminder that she is growing and changing every single day.

Way to grow, Smiley!

View From the Other Side

I love fireworks.

I grew up in a small town where the one celebration the entire town pulled together for was the 4th of July. Three days packed full of events, parades, 3-legged races and pie-eating contests, art shows and demolition derbies, and a spectacular fireworks show on the 4th to cap it all off.

Let me repeat, I love fireworks.

Yet, here I sit, at nearly 11 PM on the 4th of July and my neighborhood is peppered with the snap, crackle and pop of celebratory mayhem. And. I. Don't. Like. It. It's really hard to admit, but I'm cringing with each loud noise. I feel like Old Mother Fuddy Duddy and I am not sure I really care if that's my new title.

With every boom, sizzle, and explosion I worry that my house is going to burn down, or that my kids will wake up confused and crying.

It's the weirdest feeling to be on the other side of this and I'd like to formally apologize to all those other families to whom I created this kind of stress.

Oops. Sowwy.

edit: and all those poor animals too. :(

The Very Disappointing Caterpillar

This blog entry can also be titled, "A Book Review by Turbo."

Tonight I read this book to Turbo:

At the end of this charming tale, the caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly.

To which Turbo replied, "No thank you, caterpillar. That isn't bery nice."

I guess metamorphosis isn't for everyone.

Potty Training - Day 1

Score: Turbo 1, Underpants 0

This is the weekend I've chosen to get serious about potty training Turbo. He's 2 yrs, 8 months old and has been wearing Pull-Ups for... um... I can't remember how long. Six months? Maybe that's a sign it's been too long. :)

He stays dry a lot more often then he's wet, and they are awesome at his daycare at taking the kids to the toilet every hour. We've been less diligent at home until recently, when we decided to match the daycare schedule and we also found about the same success rate. Mostly dry, but wet after naps and overnights.

Plus, the kid loves to sit on the potty. I'm talking 5 book lengths' worth. Which reminds me, we really need to swap out the library selection for potty time, lest mommy gets bored.

So, here were are, the 4th of July 3-day weekend. It's time.

Day 1 - Turbo was very excited this morning to see a friendly selection of Sesame Street "big boy underpants." He excitedly grabbed an ELMO pair and we were off and running. Until just after breakfast when mom and dad sniffed the air and went, "uh oh."

Turbo 1, Underpants 0.

But, I have all the patience in the world and Turbo seems very interested, so I hope for the best.

I'll keep you posted. I know you're waiting with bated breath.

Twin Bed Fits Three

I never expected to try this theory out, but apparently you can fit 3 people very snuggly into a twin bed.

Of course, it helps if one of them is an infant and the other a toddler.

And, may I also say, that it helps this mama out tremendously that I already had a full spa day planned for myself. My body is tweaked and wrecked and a little bit creaky. My kids are cute and all, but it wasn't exactly restful, restorative sleep for me.

Still, I woke up smiling, because both of them woke up smiling and laughing and I am pretty sure this is one of those happy moments that I'll never forget.

And now, ta dum, onto a rare and lovely just-for-me day... spa day, here I come!!