This has been some week. Monday I had the chills all day at work, and realized I was getting sick. Tuesday I had a horrible sore throat and only got about 5 hours of sleep the night before.
Wednesday morning I got up to get a shower, felt like my head was on fire, went downstairs to get some Tylenol, and had to slump down into a chair because I thought I might pass out. I made a doctor appointment for 7:15 that evening. Somehow I got Dylan to school, and went to Borders to buy his teachers Christmas gifts.
That afternoon, even though all I wanted to do was crawl into bed myself while Dylan napped, I knew I had to do laundry. I also needed to call the pediatrician and find out the results of Dylan's allergy test. They were never sent. Surprise, surprise! (Is incompetency rampant lately or is it just me?) When the nurse finally called me back after searching them down, I was told Dylan is allergic to cats (our "outdoor" cat is now in our basement for the winter), and that he has a moderate allergy to peanuts. I was told to make an appointment with an allergist as soon as possible.
After the phone call, I went down to the basement to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. (Oh, I probably should have mentioned that a wind storm was passing through). The power went out, leaving me in a pitch black laundry room. I felt my way to the door, and into Jim's work space, praying I wouldn't step on a nail, a saw, or the cat. That was about 3pm. Around 3:30 or so, Dylan woke up. I tried to explain to him that a storm made the lights go out. "There's no light?!", he exclaimed. "But there is", he remarked, looking around the room. "Well, there's light in the room now, because the sun is still out, but we can't turn any lights on, Dylan". That prompted him to run wildly to each and every room, flicking switches, shouting updates, "THERE'S NO LIGHT IN THE KITCHEN!...THERE'S NO LIGHT IN THE LIVING ROOM!!...THERE'S NO LIGHT IN..."
After he got over the initial shock of the "no light" thing, he decided to just not worry about it and started playing. I started thinking, "Okay it is almost 4:00. The sun goes down around 5:00. That means it is going to get very cold and dark very quickly. I need to act fast!". I called my dad to tell him we were going to come there. Then, I quickly packed up some stuff, in case we ended up needing to stay over. I told Dylan I was going to pack stuff in the car, went down to the garage, and stopped. Then, I came back up and called my dad again. "Uh, I can't leave because I can't use the garage opener". He said he would come get us. Then, he called back to say, "Uh, I don't have a car seat in my car". Then, I called Jim to say, "Help?!" He told me there's a manual override on the garage door, but didn't know where or how to do it. While Dylan continued playing in near darkness (love that kid!), I stumbled my way around the garage with a flashlight until I finally figured out how to open the door. We went to my parents for the evening. Luckily the power was back on by 8pm (Jim stopped at home after work to check), so we could sleep in our own beds. Right. Except that I haven't slept since Sunday, because I am up coughing.
Thursday, after Dylan's first ever school performance, (which I'll post about later), I went to the doctor's. I have a sinus infection and bronchitis - AGAIN!! I just got over that in October. WTH?!?! I hate being sick. I become very, very cranky. Today, I had no patience or energy to deal with Dylan, and I think he might be getting sick also. We weren't getting along. He has been doing so well on the potty, but today, fought me each time. At one point he was doing the dance and I asked, "Do you need to go potty?" "No! NO! NO!" He made such a fuss, I gave up. No lie, five minutes later, he pooped and peed in his pants, and I went nuts.
A while later, we were in his bedroom, and he asked to listen to some music. I said, "which one do you want?". He pointed to his potty cd, saying "I think I need that one". Then, he sat there seriously poring over the book while those lunatics sang the potty songs, as if he were studying. It's hard to be mad, when there's that much cute in a room.
* (If you're wondering what potty music sounds like, go HERE).
Showing posts with label potty training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label potty training. Show all posts
Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
What The Heck?!
I try not to write too many potty posts, for my son's sake, and my sanity's sake. I HATE, and I mean really HATE potty training.
I started way back after Christmas last year. So hopeful, so naive. After months of failure, I decided Dylan wasn't ready.
In the spring maybe, (I've blocked most of it), I started again. I made a chart, bought stickers, had a system. He peed on the potty numerous times for about... 2 weeks. Then, he got bored and completely lost interest. Truth is, I probably did also. Potty training makes me want to bang my head against the wall a few (thousand) times.
After reading numerous accounts of potty training success brought on by using M&M's as bribes, I caved and decided to give that a go. Nothing! From the human garbage can! GAH!
After going to the dentist's last week, I decided to try chocolate covered raisins. He definitely likes them, and definitely wants to get more, but so far, he definitely won't produce results.
Today, was the most ridiculous by far. Immediately after lunch, which is the time he sometimes poops, I had him sit on the potty. I read him probably 8 different books. (It is the only way he will stay on it). Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I told him he could get off. I'm giving him one for "trying", (three for pee, five for poop), so I went in the kitchen to get one. He ran in diaperless, and started playing with his lunchbox. I gave him the raisin, then turned around for a couple minutes to put some dishes in the dishwasher.
He said, "Here, Mommy", and I turned to see he was holding something out for me. "He didn't eat the raisin?", I thought.
Then, I saw it was quite a bit bigger than a raisin. It was as big as a swedish meatball and the same shape. He was trying to hand me a tiny turd! The part that gets me is that he looked completely perplexed as to how it got on the floor of my kitchen! Like, "Now where did this come from?" What the heck? WHAT THE HECK?!?
This does not bode well for future potty training success. If you need me, I'll be banging my head against the wall somewhere.
I started way back after Christmas last year. So hopeful, so naive. After months of failure, I decided Dylan wasn't ready.
In the spring maybe, (I've blocked most of it), I started again. I made a chart, bought stickers, had a system. He peed on the potty numerous times for about... 2 weeks. Then, he got bored and completely lost interest. Truth is, I probably did also. Potty training makes me want to bang my head against the wall a few (thousand) times.
After reading numerous accounts of potty training success brought on by using M&M's as bribes, I caved and decided to give that a go. Nothing! From the human garbage can! GAH!
After going to the dentist's last week, I decided to try chocolate covered raisins. He definitely likes them, and definitely wants to get more, but so far, he definitely won't produce results.
Today, was the most ridiculous by far. Immediately after lunch, which is the time he sometimes poops, I had him sit on the potty. I read him probably 8 different books. (It is the only way he will stay on it). Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I told him he could get off. I'm giving him one for "trying", (three for pee, five for poop), so I went in the kitchen to get one. He ran in diaperless, and started playing with his lunchbox. I gave him the raisin, then turned around for a couple minutes to put some dishes in the dishwasher.
He said, "Here, Mommy", and I turned to see he was holding something out for me. "He didn't eat the raisin?", I thought.
Then, I saw it was quite a bit bigger than a raisin. It was as big as a swedish meatball and the same shape. He was trying to hand me a tiny turd! The part that gets me is that he looked completely perplexed as to how it got on the floor of my kitchen! Like, "Now where did this come from?" What the heck? WHAT THE HECK?!?
This does not bode well for future potty training success. If you need me, I'll be banging my head against the wall somewhere.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Can I Get The First Poop?
Well, we have embarked on that "wonderful" adventure that is potty training. As a mommy blogger, it is a requirement that I write a potty post, isn't it? Well, here you go...
A few months ago, I started reading "Potty Training For Dummies". Oh, I had no idea. What is it about potty training that makes a well educated, intelligent person feel like a complete and total doofus? I read the book. I did the research. I was ready. Or so I thought.
A few weeks before Christmas, I took Dylan to Babies R Us, and let him peruse the potty aisle's assortment of tricks. He showed special interest in the Elmo chair, which the child can high five, and which plays a variety of encouraging statements in both English and Spanish. Personally, it made me want to scream. Elmo's voice is at a range that I almost can't even hear, but I can hear, and that makes me want to rip my hair out. But, because I had my eyes on the prize, and my head in the clouds, I bought that one. (Later, when Dylan wasn't with me, because it was a special present from Santa)
On Christmas day, it was presented, wrapped in colorful paper, and accompanied by much "oohing" and "aahing". Dylan decorated it with stickers that he chose, and he even used stickers to spell out his name on it. He sat on it fully clothed several times that day. Everything was going according to plan.
My parents even bought him a CD with "potty music". Yes, that's right. Potty music. If you want to know the truth, the music isn't for the kids. It's for the grownups. Keeping a sense of humor throughout potty training without it, would be just about impossible. With it? Well, here's a sample...
(Jim said "these people need to get better agents". I said "they probably make more money than we do".)
I am going to get a lot of use out of these songs. Like this one, which I'm thinking of getting Jim to rig the guest toilet to play when the seat is lifted...
Or this one, which I think I'll play some day in the future, when Dylan brings his fiance and the future in-laws over for dinner. That way I can find out from the start if they have a good sense of humor, right? I'm thinking of putting it on during dinner, after appetizers, and before the main course. (I figure I'll cook then, heh).
(Catchy, aren't they? Now you'll be singing them all day. You're welcome.)
Dylan was interested in the songs, often requesting the CD, and getting a very serious expression on his face while following along with the book. He acclimated to the chair, sitting on it in the living room, family room, dining room and kitchen, before it finally found its way into the bathroom. We watched the potty video several times, before getting out the sticker chart, and going over the process. Then, he sat on it without clothes. Um, A LOT. He's been sitting on it for weeks, each time with his very patient Mommy sitting on the very uncomfortable toilet seat, reading him book after book after book. Each time, with no results.
Last week, after reading more of the Dummy book, I decided to try the hourly potty sit idea. Maybe I just wasn't getting the timing right? For an entire day, we sat there in the bathroom reading books every hour. The day went very fast, and very slow. Very fast because every time the timer went off, I just couldn't believe an hour had passed already and I had to trudge my annoyed butt into the bathroom, and muster up some fake enthusiasm once again! Very slow, because while waiting for your kid to "produce results" time seems to stand still. My back ached, my butt was sore from the uncomfortable seat, and hope was dwindling with each potty sit. We would finish the books, and I would happily ask, "Are you done?" "Yea", he would reply, and then stand up. Each time, I would glance desperately into the bowl - nothing. "@#$!", (I would say in my head). Out loud I would say, "That's okay, Dylan! You tried! Good job, buddy!" "!@$$%%%%^#@@, WTH am I doing wrong here?" (in my head). By the end of the day, when I heard the timer go off...
"Dylan, time to go potty, honey!" "!@##$@#$$, if I have to go in there one more time I might shoot myself" (in my head)
At that point, I sent out an S.O.S. in the form of a "help me" email to the 50 or so members of the mom's club. Many of them had gone through this agony, and had successfully made it to the other side, and I needed their advice. Within hours, I had a ton of emails, all offering different ideas! But, not one of them hit on it.
Why do I say that? Because last weekend, we went to Dylan's cousin's birthday party. At the party, Dylan watched two of his girl cousins pee on the potty. There was much enthusiasm, talk of "big kids", and prancing around in flower underwear. The next day was Sunday and we were too busy to even attempt the potty thing. But, Monday, when I got home from work, there were my parents greeting me at the door, with the news that Dylan peed on the potty twice! "DYLAN!!! YOU PEED ON THE POTTY?!? THAT IS GREAT!!! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!!! Kiss, Kiss". "!@#$##@@#$$# Are you kidding me? I do all the hard work, and they get to be first?! !@#$!" (in my head) So apparently, what works for my kid? Peer pressure. I guess I need to set up a lot of play dates in the coming weeks, because holy crap (pun intended), I want to at least get the first poop.
(I'm kidding, Mom. I'm not bitter. Hmmpphh) I am still able to laugh about it. My sense of humor is still intact. Or it will be, once I play that darn CD again. Excuse me.
A few months ago, I started reading "Potty Training For Dummies". Oh, I had no idea. What is it about potty training that makes a well educated, intelligent person feel like a complete and total doofus? I read the book. I did the research. I was ready. Or so I thought.
A few weeks before Christmas, I took Dylan to Babies R Us, and let him peruse the potty aisle's assortment of tricks. He showed special interest in the Elmo chair, which the child can high five, and which plays a variety of encouraging statements in both English and Spanish. Personally, it made me want to scream. Elmo's voice is at a range that I almost can't even hear, but I can hear, and that makes me want to rip my hair out. But, because I had my eyes on the prize, and my head in the clouds, I bought that one. (Later, when Dylan wasn't with me, because it was a special present from Santa)
On Christmas day, it was presented, wrapped in colorful paper, and accompanied by much "oohing" and "aahing". Dylan decorated it with stickers that he chose, and he even used stickers to spell out his name on it. He sat on it fully clothed several times that day. Everything was going according to plan.
My parents even bought him a CD with "potty music". Yes, that's right. Potty music. If you want to know the truth, the music isn't for the kids. It's for the grownups. Keeping a sense of humor throughout potty training without it, would be just about impossible. With it? Well, here's a sample...
(Jim said "these people need to get better agents". I said "they probably make more money than we do".)
I am going to get a lot of use out of these songs. Like this one, which I'm thinking of getting Jim to rig the guest toilet to play when the seat is lifted...
Or this one, which I think I'll play some day in the future, when Dylan brings his fiance and the future in-laws over for dinner. That way I can find out from the start if they have a good sense of humor, right? I'm thinking of putting it on during dinner, after appetizers, and before the main course. (I figure I'll cook then, heh).
(Catchy, aren't they? Now you'll be singing them all day. You're welcome.)
Dylan was interested in the songs, often requesting the CD, and getting a very serious expression on his face while following along with the book. He acclimated to the chair, sitting on it in the living room, family room, dining room and kitchen, before it finally found its way into the bathroom. We watched the potty video several times, before getting out the sticker chart, and going over the process. Then, he sat on it without clothes. Um, A LOT. He's been sitting on it for weeks, each time with his very patient Mommy sitting on the very uncomfortable toilet seat, reading him book after book after book. Each time, with no results.
Last week, after reading more of the Dummy book, I decided to try the hourly potty sit idea. Maybe I just wasn't getting the timing right? For an entire day, we sat there in the bathroom reading books every hour. The day went very fast, and very slow. Very fast because every time the timer went off, I just couldn't believe an hour had passed already and I had to trudge my annoyed butt into the bathroom, and muster up some fake enthusiasm once again! Very slow, because while waiting for your kid to "produce results" time seems to stand still. My back ached, my butt was sore from the uncomfortable seat, and hope was dwindling with each potty sit. We would finish the books, and I would happily ask, "Are you done?" "Yea", he would reply, and then stand up. Each time, I would glance desperately into the bowl - nothing. "@#$!", (I would say in my head). Out loud I would say, "That's okay, Dylan! You tried! Good job, buddy!" "!@$$%%%%^#@@, WTH am I doing wrong here?" (in my head). By the end of the day, when I heard the timer go off...
"Dylan, time to go potty, honey!" "!@##$@#$$, if I have to go in there one more time I might shoot myself" (in my head)
At that point, I sent out an S.O.S. in the form of a "help me" email to the 50 or so members of the mom's club. Many of them had gone through this agony, and had successfully made it to the other side, and I needed their advice. Within hours, I had a ton of emails, all offering different ideas! But, not one of them hit on it.
Why do I say that? Because last weekend, we went to Dylan's cousin's birthday party. At the party, Dylan watched two of his girl cousins pee on the potty. There was much enthusiasm, talk of "big kids", and prancing around in flower underwear. The next day was Sunday and we were too busy to even attempt the potty thing. But, Monday, when I got home from work, there were my parents greeting me at the door, with the news that Dylan peed on the potty twice! "DYLAN!!! YOU PEED ON THE POTTY?!? THAT IS GREAT!!! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!!! Kiss, Kiss". "!@#$##@@#$$# Are you kidding me? I do all the hard work, and they get to be first?! !@#$!" (in my head) So apparently, what works for my kid? Peer pressure. I guess I need to set up a lot of play dates in the coming weeks, because holy crap (pun intended), I want to at least get the first poop.
(I'm kidding, Mom. I'm not bitter. Hmmpphh) I am still able to laugh about it. My sense of humor is still intact. Or it will be, once I play that darn CD again. Excuse me.
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