Potty Talk, Part 2

Hi, Potty Training Fools ~

I had to laugh a few minutes ago. This whole Blogger thing has recently added a section for statistics. How many page views you have, tracking where they come from, what time of day people look at your site. The page that has had the most views? My last post on Potties. I had no idea that Potty Training was such an entertaining and interesting topic. Of course, everything revolving around Poop in this house is interesting and increasingly funny.

Is it not amazing that kids think the terms Poop, Pee Pee, Toilet, Flush, Diaper and Potty are the world's funniest words. And they learn this on their own. Lexy hasn't been to preschool yet, isn't in daycare, and the play dates and music classes that we do don't have ANYTHING to do with potties (unless it's me begging for the advice of others)... and yet, those words, especially Potty are the funniest things. Lexy will say POOP at the top of her lungs and race away squealing with laughter. I don't quite share that humor. Is it because she knows that I don't like it? It's not as if I've sat her down and said that we're not calling it a Potty anymore, that we're calling it the bathroom... although, I would really really like to.

Want to know what I want for Christmas this year? Other than the kid to be out of diapers, that is? 5 minutes alone in the bathroom. 5 minutes to not have her come in and ask me what I'm doing. Because, it is after all the worlds most interesting activity. One trip to the bathroom where I'm not asked "You going poop, Mommy?" And, please, one blessed event where after I (and know that apologize for anything that seems graphic) finish with my necessity for there to be no peering into the toilet. I mean, it's like she's looking for the Holy Grail or lost her favorite toy in the snow and standing there staring at it is going to make it reappear. Please tell me that your kids do this, too? That it's not just my beautiful, intelligent, hilarious daughter that is so obsessed with this?

So. It is nice to know that you all are as Potty Obsessed as the people in this household are. 46 page views. Not many in the grand land of blogging, but the highest number that this lonely little Mommy Blog has achieved and I am still sitting here smiling because it was on the topic furthest from my heart.

Oh, and speaking of Christmas... I had a friend post on her facebook page a question about how many presents Santa brings their kids. I was wondering what you all do for your kids. Last year Lexy got a very special gift of a Cabbage Patch Kid from Santa and one or two other smaller gifts. I'm assuming that this is what he'll do again this year. We haven't talked about it, seeing as he's so busy up North getting the final touches on everything, but I don't know why he would change his routine. But, I am curious what happens in your households. Does Santa only bring one gift, five, twenty? And just how far do your gifts go? Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Grandparents, Great Grandparents? Your friends kids (absolutely in this house)? The neighbors?

What do you do for your traditions and how the heck do you fit it all in? I'm already running out of time and money and energy...

Merry Christmas Early. I love this season. It's my favorite. Merry Merry Merry.

Love to you all.

Potty Talk

Hey, Peeps.

Oh my gosh. I have something to share that I'm sure will just bowl you over. A confession. It will shock you. I hate the word Potty. I find it dirty, stupid, childish, I could hop over to the online thesaurus and come up with a few more terms but I think you get the general idea. And I use it about 75 times a day. My life is revolving around Potty Talk. No, not the kind that requires washing my daughters mouth out with soap, but the kind that brings to mind diapers, wipes, potty rings, small people potties, big people potties, zero privacy in the bathroom, videos, books, rewards, discussions, need I go on?

Before Lexy was born I remember a conversation with one of my girlfriends where I told her that I was going to teach my children the phrase "Mommy, I need to use the facilities". Okay, so I was semi-kidding, but in my head the house was clean, the children were sitting on the sofas in white clothing, there were no toys on the floor, the kitchen was spotless... I was having a pre-mommy insane moment. I think I had a lot of those.

Lexy will be 3 years old in a matter of weeks. She is no where near potty trained. I have to tell you, I'm starting to take it personally. I mean, really, there is no interest what-so-ever. I ask, she says no. And I'm sure that that last statement is going to be my life's refrain for the next 20 years or so, but that's beside the point.

We own the potty ring (you know, that thing that goes on the toilet so little people don't slip through and land in the water)? We have the little person sized potty. In the same bathroom. Every morning I ask "Do you need to use the potty". One of my first statements everyday begins with the dreaded word. I've tried stickers. I've tried toys. I've tried candy. Now, that was a big one because she doesn't get candy with the exception of one piece after dinner for dessert. Nothing brings about any interest in the actual learning or training. Realistically I know that there aren't many adults in Pampers, so I should be good in a while. But it would be so nice to move beyond this phase and get rid of the changing table.

So. Here I am asking you. Begging really. Please please please. How did you train your kids to use the bathroom? How did you get them interested in learning? And, most importantly, did you have a better term than POTTY???? Ask your parents friends to read this post. Share it and ask them for me "how the heck did you potty-train your uninterested, doesn't want to bother stopping what she's doing, too bored to sit on the toilet child???".

Please. Help Me.

Update

Update.

There was eating in the world of Lexy last night. Actual eating. Chewing, swallowing, forkfuls of eating. Okay, maybe not forkfuls, but actual eating. And I don't know if it was because I smothered everything in tomato sauce, or it was Josh's friend that spent the bulk of the meal talking to her, or the promise of a piece of candy for dessert if she would just swallow that last mouthful of broccoli. But, does it really matter? It was as stress-free as a dinnertime meal in the household can get and for that I am thankful.

Oh, and for those of you who didn't know that my kid is brilliant and is way advanced for her age? I just have to tell YOU. Last night after I put Lexy to bed I went to my parents house to help my mother decorate her Christmas tree. I told Lexy I was going out and she was still awake when I left. At some point in the evening, Josh went upstairs to tell her to go to sleep (this has been another on-going saga). Their conversation went something like this:

"I need to talk to Mommy."

"Mommy is sleeping"

"No, she' not. Mommy went to Nana's house. I heard the garage door go up and down. TWO times."

"You heard the garage door go up and down TWO times?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Well, I can't fool you, can I?"

"No, Daddy."

Told you so.

Happy St. Nicholas Day, my friends. I hope St. Nick left you something nice in your shoe.

I am now THAT mom.

Oh, Lord, help me. I have just sat my daughter on our stairs with a mouthful of sweet potato fries, peas and carrots in an attempt to get her to swallow what would be her fourth bite of dinner. I mean, I think I have officially obtained the title of "Worst Mother in the World" or at the very least "Strangest Parenting Technique". I didn't mean to make it into a battle, but there you have it. And there is just no way that I can let an almost three year old stubborn me out. I mean, I am the queen of stubborn. I live my life by "I may not always be right, but I'm right 99% of the time and there is just no way that this moment is that other 1% of the time". When I'm right, I'm right. And I'm just usually right.

See what I mean about stubbor? Four bites of dinner. It's not that there were only four bites. It's that the four bites took an hour and required spitting out of a very large mouthful of I have no idea what. And it was just gross. And I am getting so tired of gross. And she's not even three. Remind me again, what did I sign myself up for? Was I thinking a few years ago when Josh and I had that conversation about having kids and was it the right time? I'm thinking no, because I just don't think I have the patience for this.

I mean, the stairs. I stuck her on the stairs. And I made my husband go over to her (he chose to crawl across the floor like the dog) to sit on the floor and tell her that he would only sit next to her if she swallowed her food. Seriously. I am officially insane. Of course, the crawling and sitting on the floor was his idea. I had no part in that. Me? I'm the one that moved the high chair away from the window because her reflection was distracting her from the actual eating process. For Him? She swallowed that mouthful of food in 10 seconds. Just to get him to sit on the stairs next to him.

Now, the kid eats most everything. I can't truly complain about the types of food that she eats. She is not a picky eater. But when she doesn't want to eat (which has been dinner the last 3 nights in a row) she just drags it on and on and on and I turn into some kind of crazed, food obsessed, "eat your dinner there are starving children in China or Rwanda or Chicago" kind of person. I had no idea that I was going to become that kind of mom. Am I by myself in this? Are there things that your kids do that just turn you into some kind of lunatic that you never envisioned was a possibility?

I think I need to go to bed. Now. For about 12 hours. And tomorrows dinner duty is hereby assigned to Josh. Me? I think I may take myself out for a nice quiet dinner at McDonald's. Alone.