Month: April 2010

It’s a Potty Party

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Roaring Like a Lion at the Zoo

Is it that time again? Do I have any energy left after all these mommy years? Can’t I hire someone else to do it? With little success, I’m trying to psych myself up for potty training once again.

My 2-year-old is beginning to show the signs. She continually pulls at her diaper and informs me what I’ll find inside. This takes care of the guesswork for me. She also keeps taking her diaper off on her own to surprise us. I know I only reinforce this by shrieking every time. I then dart around the house in a frantic state searching for it.

Although I’m not anxious to start potty training, she recently asked me if she could go poop on the potty. None of my other children started with number two. I took this as good news – actually the best news I’d had in days (it’s amazing what makes me happy since I’ve become a mother).

While concentrating on her task, she was not successful in the first bathroom. So she asked to go try in another bathroom in our house. This was uncharted territory for me, but I thought, “why not?” We played musical bathrooms until, sure enough, she achieved success. This was the only time I was grateful I didn’t live in a mansion with 15 bathrooms.

Humbly I admit, my take charge 4-year-old actually started potty-training her sister before I did. She found pull-ups in the closet and put one on her little sister. When I questioned her, she said confidently, “Mommy, she needs these now.” They were from an unused package from her earlier potty-training days. Although I get rid of a lot of things, diapers are like gold. They continually go up in price and the boxes seem to get smaller – just like Girl Scout cookies.

I’ve always wondered if there was a faster way to get a child potty trained. Someone told me about a book by Teri Crane entitled “Potty-train Your Child in Just One Day.” I checked it out at the library, but the book was due before I even had time to open it. I decided it was a sign to not even attempt it. Why rush the process anyway? I’m not sure I have anything that earth shattering in the near future to make my child get this done within 24 hours.

After skimming a Web site about Dr. Phil supporting this “one day” idea, I was a little more intrigued. But as I continued to read, it sounded a little strange (although some people swear buy it). It said I’d have to buy a baby doll that wets, party hats and horns. I literally would have to throw a party for the doll after it peed on the potty. I quickly became uninterested. It even boasted about a child getting to call their superhero when they’re done to tell them about their heroic potty-training experience. I can just hear it now, “I poop, Superman. I poop like a big girl!” Now there’s a YouTube video that would make someone laugh.

For now, I think I’ll take my chances potty training the old-fashioned way. If it lasts longer than a few months, I may break down and check the book out again. Maybe I’ll call my favorite superhero, too, and brag about my mommy accomplishment. Do you think Mrs. Incredible would be impressed?

Courtesy of the Atchison Globe

Reluctant to Let Go

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My teenage daughter has taken her first solo flight. Not exactly like Amelia Earhart, but enough to make me nervous.

Although I was reluctant to say yes to this spring break trip over the Easter holiday, I gave in. She began packing immediately upon approval from my husband and me.

Eager to see her grandparents and old friends in Arizona, she was ecstatic. Myself, on the other hand, fast-forwarded to visions of her in college traveling during family holidays instead of spending them with us. If this is any indication of how I will handle empty nest syndrome, I’m in trouble.

Growing Up Too Fast

Practically running into the airport, we realized her luggage was still in the car. Oops. At least it wasn’t at home. What teenager could live without her flat iron and 82 hair products? She laughed at me and said it was already my third blonde moment of the day. Why does she count these? I just think we forgot her bag because subconsciously I didn’t want her to go.

I wasn’t the only one feeling this way. My 4-year-old, who happens to be a miniature version of her older sister, said she was going to miss her and cry when she was gone. I did notice a slight twinge from my teenager at these words. (Maybe they really do love each other.)

Not breaking family history, her flight was delayed. This proved in our favor and made me grateful for the first time about an airline delay. She was in a great mood showing no signs of teenage hormones, and I was clinging to every last second with her. No harm done.

Since the ticket agent issued me an escort pass, I was able to go to the gate with her and hold on a little while longer. We both experienced the hyped-about body scanner for the first time. This was not the big deal it was made out to be in the news. The only thing I did notice was that a male security attendant took over when it was our turn. Let’s hope that was a coincidence.

While waiting to board, we sat and talked and she actually turned off her cell phone. This was no small miracle and a gift to me. It also gave me time to review for the hundredth time all my motherly advice. This included, sit in an aisle seat in case you have to use the restroom. If a weirdo sits next to you, immediately get a flight attendant. (Her grandmother from Phoenix advised her to scream. I guess that would work, albeit a little extreme.) I told her to call me any time and I’d be on the first flight out. I also said to text me the second she landed so I could breathe again … and oh yeah, have a great time.

With magazines, homework and an iPod, she had plenty to keep her busy for the next three hours. I practically boarded the plane with her, hoping the airport staff wouldn’t notice the extra passenger. There was a dog on board anyway, and I’m sure he didn’t have a ticket.

As I waited for her plane to taxi down the runway, I pictured her laughing with friends, sunning by the pool and shopping with her grandmother. I pictured me sighing as I passed her empty bedroom every day. (Wow! I really am in trouble.) Maybe I should have five more children. Or maybe I should just enjoy the precious time I have with the five I already have.

Compliments of the Atchison Globe