Potty training, schmotty training

Now, I'm the girl who cries at every pivotal (and if we are being totally honest, not so pivotal) moment in Moose's life. He's growing up way to fast for me and every milestone means we are one day closer to adolescence, where I will know nothing and he will know everything and not need me anymore. This current milestone, though, is one that I am ready to be done with... Potty Training.

Boo... That's all I have to say. Boo to potty training.

Moose will be 3 in September and we have been potty training for a few months now. Initially we did the naked method. I have to say, it worked really well to get him recognizing the act of potty-ing.

Most days he does great (nights are a different story, even with cutting off drinks at 7 and putting a diaper on him, there are mornings where it's like he got up and went swimming in his p-jammers and then climbed back into bed). I'll hear, "Mommy, I think I have to go potty."

But, then there are those days (which seem to be the days where I am already at my wits end) that he just doesn't think he needs to use the big boy potty. "Mommy, do I have a diaper on?" "No dear, you never have a diaper on during the day anymore. Did you potty?" "Yeah..." (insert frowny face here). "I poopied mommy." (insert major frowny face here).

Then there's me asking "Moose, do you have to potty?" "Mmm, nope!" again, "Moose, let's try to go potty" "But I don't have to go." Then two minutes later, "Mommy, my feet are cold." Really? Could that be because you are standing in a puddle of pee?

Naps are the same. Some days he will take his normal 3 to 4 hour nap (he's an anomaly, I know) and wake up bone dry, but other days, he's soaked after an hour.

Then, two weeks will go by with no accidents (cue the "Hallelujah" music) and just when I think, "By Jove, I think he's got it!" we have another day filled with accidents.

Don't get me wrong, he's only 2 (I tend to forget that because he is a very big kid as well as very mature and well behaved for his age, no one believes us when we say he's not even 3) and I know that accidents happen, but there are days that I would so much rather clean up a dirty diaper than a dirty pair of underwear. Especially when we are out and about.

The part that gets me is the in-between. He's not fully potty trained, but definitely not in a diaper anymore.

This too shall pass...

to the moon and back...

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Of love and loss and grieving....

Ok, I stole that title from my bosses blog, but it's fitting.

I could start this blog off with "Wow, it's, like totally, been a really long time since I last blogged. I've been sooo super busy with my crazy important life but I totally promise to be better about posting!" (please feel free to read that in your best Valley Girl voice circa 1983), but I won't. Truth is, life happens and while I love writing, and emptying my head of random thoughts (yes, thoughts, plural, I do manage to have more than one, however, trains of thought quickly derail), I also have family, friends, 2.5 jobs, running and the like that fill my days.

I have had a blog brewing in my little brain about the "Are You Mom Enough" article, but my luke warm opinions about most things coupled with the fact that I haven't actually read past the title of the article, have hindered me from diving into that topic further. I am fairly certain, though, that I am not mom enough when you take into account that my almost 3 year old watches TV, has had his vaccinations as well as tylenol & motrin, was only breastfed (and not exclusively, there was formula in the mix) until 14 months, has had (on occasion) a PB&J for breakfast and navigates my iPhone better than me. But that's beside the point, on to the task at hand.

Tonight, I write of love, loss and grieving...

Love... The love of a gracious God, the love of a remarkable mother, the love of humbled friends. First, there is the love of gracious God who gives peace to a family who needs all of the comfort they can get. He has laid out the plans for them and gives them strength though the pain. Then there is the love of a mother, a love that has no rivals. I don't think you can truly understand it until you become one. I'm not taking away from the love a father has for his child, but I am saying that it is a bit different when you have carried, nurtured and felt the child moving from inside you. We give them our bodies for 9 months and in turn they take a piece of our heart with them on the way out. Finally, the love of humbled friends, who no matter how much they do for their friends, no matter how much they give, they are humbled to have the friend who is in need trying to comfort them through her loss.

Loss... One of my dearest friends and her family is having to go through what no one should ever have to experience, the loss of a child. Just a few days ago, after giving birth, she lost her son (you can read about it here). Throughout the pregnancy and birth, she gave her worries to God and above all asked for His will to be done. God's will was done, and part of His plan for Emmett was unveiled as he was able to be an organ donor and has the opportunity to help save the lives of two babies. 

Grieving... I can never claim to know what she is feeling, but I know that since Thursday night, I have been wandering around in a fog with an emptiness in my chest. My heart aches for them and I hate that we (her friends) can't be closer to help her through this and to keep her mind occupied. It's a very helpless feeling to have so much distance between us and to not be able to be with her.

It's amazing how someone so little can fill your heart so much and how you can be filled with so much love so someone that you never got to meet, hold, talk to or cuddle with.

My prayers continue to go out to the Jackson family, I hope you will do the same.

to the moon and back,

"Be Still and Know I am God"

While motherhood has been the most rewarding, stressful, beautiful, disgusting, hilarious, and bittersweet, it has also left me wondering, "How do I fit it all in?"

How do I fit in time for Moose?
How do I fit in time for hubby?
How do I fit in time to cook, clean and coupon (my new obsession)?
How do I fit in time to work?
How do I fit in time with the extended family?
How do I fit in time to exercise?
How do I fit in time for friends?
How do I fit in "me" time?
And most importantly...
How do I fit in time for God?

What? Scheduling time for God? You mean Sunday morning isn't enough? Oh, yea, Sunday morning... I remember doing something called "Church" on Sunday... prior to having Moose. Where can I find the time to be still and know that He is God?

Since I had Moose, on Sunday's you can find me in the nursery at church. I can't remember the last time I sat through a full service. Moose has decided that if I'm not in the nursery with him, then he must cry like he is being tortured, which leads to other kids crying and stressed out nursery workers and then no one is having fun. So to save the sanity of the poor parent who has volunteered their time, I either sit in the nursery with him, or I take him in the service and leave halfway through because he is wiggling.

Because of this, I have felt spiritually starved. Craving to get lost in His word, but never making it a priority. Tonight, I had the utmost pleasure of meeting with some other moms of little ones (without the little ones) who were also in need of a bible study. I have to say, it was so needed and I am so looking forward to more of these. I left study feeling blessed, comforted, reassured, supported and closer to these women than ever.

I'll leave you with a passage of scripture that was in our study tonight and ask you this, are you Martha or Mary?

³⁸ As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. ³⁹ She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. ⁴⁰ But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
   ⁴¹ “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, ⁴² but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

To the Moon and Back,

 

Potty Time!

Wasn't this just last week?

My baby is growing up... it's bitter sweet. I am so proud of him and I am thrilled at how he is developing, but it means he's slowly becoming a little boy and less a baby. Yes, I am one of those mothers. I cried at his first steps, I cried when he didn't need his pacie, I cry when I even think about turning his crib into a toddler bed (yes, he is still in a crib, don't judge me, he's never tried to climb out). Heck, I bawl my eyes out at the thought of him being a teenager and not needing his mommy and some teenage chick replaces me as the love of his life. Wow, that's incredibly sappy and yet, I as I typed it, my eyes started watering. I know, I'm ridiculous. Let's just accept that and move on.

Where did this wobbling 1 year old go?

The milestone that he crossed tonight was going pee-pee on the potty. Since Monday we have been working with him and trying to get him him used to the idea of going on the "big boy" potty. He has been wearing "big boy" underpants at Mamaw's and she has been encouraging him to pee in the shower and in the yard (don't ask, she lives in the country, no one can see him). Well he has managed to soak her recliner, leave puddles on the floor and create a mess on the porch at which point he quickly told her that she had to clean it up. Still no interest in the potty.

I would pick him up after work and bring him home and put him down for a nap (in a diaper) and as soon as he would wake, I'd run him to the potty (all the while feeling the warmth grow in his diaper). In the 30 seconds it took me to get him from his room to the potty, he had already gone.

Who is this little boy?? Where has the time gone?

Well, today while at my moms, he actually acknowledged when he was going. Yay! He was so excited to tell me about it when I got there to pick him up.

When he woke up from his nap today, we missed it again and he went before I got him to the potty. So I changed him and we went to a friends birthday dinner. We left the house around 5:30pm and didn't get home until around 9:00pm (we had to stop by the store). When we walked in, I said "Moose, do you need to go potty?" and he actually said "YES!"

I said "Ok, lets get to the bathroom, quick! Quick!" we ran down the hall and I got his pants off and pulled his diaper off. It was completely dry! I set him on the potty and said "Ok, you can go!" He got a huge smile on his face and said "Ok"

**Tinkle Tinkle** "Oh Moose! What's that?" He said "I'm going pee-pee!" and then squealed and got an even bigger grin on his face! He yelled for daddy to come and when the hubby got there Moose screamed "I going potty!!!"

I think we all screamed and there were high-fives thrown around and then a naked toddler running through the house asking to call everyone he knows so he can tell them. It was the most precious thing ever. To see the pride in his eyes and to see how excited he was took my breath away. I know it sounds incredibly silly to say that my son peeing on the potty would take my breath away, but if you could have seen the look on his face, it was priceless.

We have an amazing little boy, who will one day be an even more amazing man and while I want it to take a very long time getting here, I am excited to see the person he will become.

I love you, Moose....

To the moon and back,

For Moose..

My quest for getting healthy is not completely selfish. I mean sure, I would love to be comfortable in a bathing suit again and I would love to go out and buy cute, trendy clothes, but ultimately, my drive, my motivation is Moose.

I want him to see me as an active mom. I want to be able to run and chase him without having to take a break to catch my breath. I want him to think it's normal to pick up and go for a run, to eat veggies and lean meat. I don't want him to think that McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts is a staple in a normal diet. I don't want him to make healthy choices, I want the healthy choices to come naturally for him.

I have been on the heavier side most of my life. It's a difficult way to go through life (always wondering if people are watching what you eat, hearing the whispers "isn't she too heavy to wear that?", the assumptions "When are you due?"), I don't want him to deal with any of that.

I'm not ranting, I'm not pushing my beliefs on you. I am mainly giving myself a reminder as to my motivation. I have been sick the past few days and have been able to run or work out (believe it or not, I do MISS it) , and I know how easy it is to fall out of a routine.

Every time I look at him, I need to remember that it's all for Moose.

To the moon and back,

Mommy-hood Changes Things...

...and that's great. In fact that is the way it should be if everyone would take it seriously. But I feel as though there are an aweful lot of mommies out there that sugar coat being a mom. In my opinion, not all things about being a mommy are peaches and cream and I feel like it's taboo to talk about that.

Having Moose was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. He is the coolest little guy I have ever met and he just gets cooler by the day, but being a mom (a good mom, a REAL mom) is hard work. It's taxing, totally self-less and at times, it's no fun (gasp... did she just say that?). Yes, I did. You always hear other moms say, "Oh, it's different when it's your own child." Yea, it is, the difference is, at the end of the day, that baby is your sole responsibility and no one elses (aside from their dads) and they have to go home with you!

No matter how much a child is planned, I really don't think that there is anything that can prepare you for what you are about to embark on. It helps to have a great support system of family and friends to lean on, cry with and ask for help, but still at the end of the day, that baby goes home with you. As much as I love Moose and as great as he is, when I left the hospital with him, I had no idea what to do with him. I was totally lost and grasping at straws. In fact, when we walked into the house with him for the first time, I looked at Jon and asked "What do we do with him now? Do we hold him? Feed him? Lay him down? Put him in his swing? Take him back to the hospital and ask for an instruction manual?" I think we eventually opted for just staring at him hoping the answer would come to us!

In my situation, I do feel like part of the joy was stolen from me by postpartum because I didn't feel that instant connection to him. In fact, there were times in the beginning where it was so overwhelming that I thought my life was just over and things would never be the same and I couldn't imagine what I had gotten myself into. I was half right, my life would never be the same, in most all ways it would be way better than ever before.

I am the baby of the family (a bit spoiled, I admit... ok a lot spoiled, but that't not the point) and I didn't grow up around babies. My sister is 8 years older than me and when she had her first child, I was a self-involved teenager wrapped up in my highschool sweetheart who was stationed in Germany in the Army, so I wasn't around much to help with her new baby. When she had her second child, I was still pretty much a newly-wed totally engulfed with being a wife, so even though I was around the second one more, it still wasn't much and that was over 10 years ago. Point is, I had no idea what to do with a baby and I know I'm not the only one. My hubby had never even held an infant until Moose was born. We were definitely the blind leading the blind!

I remember the first couple of weeks actually dreading sunset. Why, you ask? Because I hated the night. Nighttime meant we would be on our own until at least morning. No more curious friends and family members stopping by. He would be all ours for the next 14 or so hours, no help, and that scared the crap out of me. What if he starts choking while he is sleeping? What if we don't know what to do? And heaven forbid, what if he just stops breathing. Yes, the night held a whole new world of uncertainty.

The daytime brought a million more questions that I didn't have the answers for, schedules, feedings, rashes, teething, etc...

The only thing about parenting that I know without a shadow of a doubt is that no decision I make every totally feels like the right one!

Questions I Hate (yes HATE)

"Aren't you ready for another one?" So, aside from "do you think he's hungry?" that is my least favorite question out there.

People have no shame. I remember holding my two week old baby and someone asked me if I was ready for another one. "Huh?" I thought "I'm not entirely sure I knew what I was getting into with this one!" I mean really, does everyone in the free world think that just because you procreated once that you are suddenly ready to be the star of your own show "Jon & Jen Plus 10?" Some people only want one child, some want 19, some tried so hard for that first one that the thought of going through that again may be devastating. My husband and I waited almost 10 years (by choice) to have Moose, best decision we ever made, but we still have not decided if we will have another one. We are still having too much fun with Moose! Plus, let me, at the very least, get him potty trained!

As I mentioned above, my next least favorite question "Do you think he's hungry?" Now I don't get this one as much anymore since Moose is almost 2, but when he was little, he had about a 2 month period where he was extra fussy (mainly gassy)  and when he would start to cry, I would inevitably get the question "Do you think he is hungry?" In some instances he could have just eaten and they'd still ask. In other instances, I'd be thinking "I don't know, he can't tell me and I can't read his mind." Asking questions like that to a new mom only frustrates us (because we don't know how to fix the broken baby), no matter how nicely you meant it.

Another horrible and I mean HORRIBLE question is "When are you due?" I don't care if you can see a hand print of the unborn fetus protruding from her belly, don't ask... She may have just swallowed a small child, you don't know. I was asked that question (not once, but twice... ugh) and it was not pleasant. The second time I was asked was finally the motivation I needed to lose weight (at the time, I was about 75lbs overweight). The sad thing is that immediately after the guy asked me that question, he realized it was not appropriate and the life drained out of his face. I simply replied "I'm not, but, uh, thanks for noticing!?!" Stupid question, guys, erase it from your small talk library!

These are just a few to start off with, I have many more, and I am sure they will be the topics of future posts. None of these questions have been asked to me recently, they just popped into my head and I needed to release some pressure up there!

What questions tick you off?