Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Two bags of sand ... $ 5.94
Mini steel dump truck & front-end loader ... $17.98
Beach in a box to keep two brothers occupied and happy while mommy (the non-gardener) does some much needed weeding and pruning in the garden for a few days ... PRICELESS
The first day I tried to garden the boys followed me around with their shovels. I thought they were playing very well until I realized that they had dug up a couple of pail loads of decorative stones/rocks (ground cover) from the garden and dumped them on our patio.
Time to get a sandbox to keep my shovel-happy boys occupied.
I went online and was mortified to find that I had to part with at least $50 to score a plastic animal-shaped sandbox with a lid. I also found a monster plastic construction sandbox that came complete with a plastic excavator arm, a plastic dump bucket and a plastic lid that doubled as a rugged play surface for plastic construction vehicles (shown online but not included with the monster price tag).
A small cheap box with a lid, some sand and a couple of well-made construction vehicles. Now that's more like it. Ahhhh. Weeds begone!
Friday, May 15, 2009
It's hard to believe it has come to this. I have truly reached a mommy low as I find myself pimping Thomas the tank engine & his friends in an attempt to get Little Dude to poop on the potty. Every night after bath, his potty chair gets filled with pee but it has yet to feel the warmth of his poo. During the day, his diaper would have to be hanging below his knees from the weight of his pee before he admits to needing his diaper changed. As for doing number 2, he prefers to squat under the breakfast table with his head down and both hands gripping his highchair.
The potty chart with its cute magnetic tokens that came with a book I bought months ago didn't so much as get an interested glance from Little Dude. Phhht. I get stickers when I grace Starbucks with my mere presence. Why go potty for silly magnets? his eyes seemed to challenge the chart.
So I modified the potty chart. Got Little Dude to pick out his favourite trains from a free catalogue. Cut the pictures out and glued them onto yellow paper. Drew circles for poops and squares for pee. Defined the terms for getting each train. Threw in a pee-only prize for encouragement. Got Little Dude to repeat the terms. And with an exuberant "Let's go potty!" from Little Dude, he was off to the washroom to make a rare daytime potty chair visit.
His pee hit the plastic with gusto, making a noise similar to that of a very localized torrential downpour. He even grunted a few times in an attempt to add poop to the slightly yellow pool already collected in the bowl. But no luck. He had already released his morning gift earlier.
We celebrated his daytime potty squirt. Little Dude took a moment to decide where he wanted to put the magnet which eventually found a home on one of the Annie & Clarabel squares. Then off he went to play with his train set, day-dreaming of the coming of new train friends.
That was about a week ago. Little Dude now (and not unlike pre-revised-potty-chart days) greets the suggestion of potty time with a firm "no". When I remind him about the potty chart, he may or may not be convinced to go. When he does sit on the P chair, it is only to pee. He also moved the first pee magnet out of the Annie & Clarabel section in order to reach the piddle quota for Henry (the pee-only prize). Little Dude is clearly disgruntled with each day's absence of his beloved Annie & Clarabel and, perhaps, the realization that he now has to poop at least once on the potty to be rewarded with more trains.
Last night after the Good Man put Little Dude to bed, I heard repeated screams of "I have to poop on the potty!" He sat. He grunted. He peed. And, I tucked him back into bed praising him for telling me that he had to go. I'm still undecided whether that was a bedtime stall tactic or a genuine attempt in letting lose that elusive plop on the potty.
I know I should be happy ... count my blessings, that sort of thing. Little Dude has made some progress. Total success doesn't happen overnight. Yada yada yada. But I can't seem to shake the thought of having turned my son into a potty whore. And if he is that, then I am his pimp driving him to exchange his bodily excretions for little wooden trains with hideous faces.
I still believe that he will get there when he is ready. I'm just cursing myself for starting something that I don't want to finish. Presenting Little Dude with Annie & Clarabel in the absence of a poop-filled potty seems like a step backwards. So I plod forward.
What compelled me to engage in potty bribery in the first place? I did it because changing messy poopy diapers is tedious, boring, stinky, disgusting, nauseating and, after 3 years, I've simply had enough of it. And, because it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
LittleR Dude and I spent the next couple of hours in the guest bedroom. I laid down with him in my arms hoping that he would grace me with another hour of sleep before fully waking up.
I dozed in and out of slumber. I don't sleep well with a child next to me. I was always afraid of crushing both my boys when they were infants. And the sputtering, squeaking and other baby noises they made kept me awake and annoyed. Now, it's the snoring and little elbows in the face that drive me crazy. And I'm still scared to death of crushing them.
Later, I was awakened by a semi-hard object hitting my head. LittleR Dude was handing me the remote. We don't have cable in the guest room. I hit "play" hoping that the train video was in the all-in-one tv/vcr so I didn't have to get up. It was. I hoped for a few more minutes of sleep. But by this time LittleR Dude was making running commentaries of what he was seeing on the video.
"Train, mommy, train. Choo, choo. Red train. Red train. Light, mommy, light"
From outside the room, I heard the plodding of little feet. The door burst open. Little Dude climbed up on the bed beside me.
"Happy Mother's Day," the Good Man grinned.
Little Dude also wished me, "Happy Mother's Day!" Then he handed me his blue car, smiled and repeated, "Happy Mother's Day, mommy."
I accepted his gift, thanked and kissed him. Life is sweet.
Seconds later, the blue car was back in Little Dude's hands. It was a temporary gift. The Good Man and I smiled at each other and we all piled out of the room.
And that was the beginning and end of Mother's Day for me this year. Not Hallmark material but sweet, nonetheless.
Friday, May 8, 2009
LittleR Dude seems to be going through a shift. The nights where I can plop him in his crib awake and not hear from him until the next morning feel long gone. Replacing my awesome sleeper is a toddler who morphs into cling-wrap the moment I take him near his crib. When I've finally coaxed him into releasing his vise-like grip around my neck and have laid him down, he allows me to sit on the rocking chair while he relaxes himself into deep sleep. Any attempts to sneak out of the room before he is fully asleep will be met with ear-splitting, heart-wrenching cries. We repeat this process 2-3 times a night and by 6:30 he is ready to start his day.
It feels like all the makings of separation anxiety but why now after months of being the most perfect sleeper imaginable?
Yesterday, he woke up from his nap in full tantrum mode. He was utterly inconsolable. He did not want to be picked up nor did he seem to want to be in his crib. I held him in my arms because it made me feel better. Because I didn't know what else to do. It felt like an eternity before he finally stopped screaming and was hiccupping and sobbing more quietly in my lap.
It wasn't that long ago when the sight of me would make him stop crying. I don't understand this shift. I feel helpless.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Yesterday, we played outside with water and this plastic tube thing that you fill up and then drops of water come out of the bottom. LittleR Dude played with it for like forever.
We love you & miss you,
Little Dude & LittleR Dude
P.S. I can't wait to play with your trains when we come to visit this summer Grandpa.
P.S.S. Mommy says to tell you that, "Yup. That's me standing under the awning next to a very dead Christmas tree shaped rosemary plant." She has all kinds of Christmas stuff all over the house still and it hasn't been Christmas for like forever.