Potty Journal: Week 3

This is probably going to be the last potty journal. He really seems to get it. 

At the very beginning of the week he had two accidents. I don't know if we were too confident or just forgot or what, but he peed once on the floor and then once sitting on my lap!! Ugh! I'd be more grossed out of I didn't have the professional body fluids conditioning that I get 3-4 days a week at work. 

He acknowledged the accidents and seemed a little upset, so I just reminded him gently that pee only goes in the potty and not on the floor. He hasn't had an accident since. We've been out to stores, the lake, Grammie's house, no pull up on just-in-case. I just watch for him to start dancing, bring him to the bathroom with the Prince Lionheart Potty Ring I got ages ago and he goes. 

Today he even started telling me he needs to go to the potty which is another huge step I think. He's never been huge on sharing his thoughts and feelings with words. He even sat and tried so hard to poop on the potty. I'm not sure if he just didn't have to go or what because after sitting for a little while and a little talking about it he gave up. 

So the only to-do's left in Sam's potty training are:

• Saying he has to go with consistency
• Walking over to the potty himself without being prompted
• Pulling his pants up and down
• Nap and night time dryness which really only comes with age

I'm so proud of us. I feel like we're battle worn now; that I've actually done some real parenting and everyone has come out of it feeling positive and our goal was accomplished. I'm putting a damn sticker on his chart for myself. 

Next up is going to have to be Abby. She's so ready to learn. She pushes Sam off the potty and wants to sit on it a thousand times a day. She hates being wet and tells me when she wants to be changed or when she's going to poop. And now she has big brother to watch. According to the readiness checklist in the Elizabeth Pantley book I mentioned in the last potty post, she's more ready than Sam was, but I didn't know what self esteem issues I'd cause by training little sister before big brother. Like I said, this one was touchy and scary for me. I wouldn't want to screw up and make Sam a serial murderer. 

And lets be honest, even if I was the worst potty training parent ever and Sam grew up to become a mass bomber or mall up skirt video taker, I'd still love him as long as he came home and told me about his day. 

11 Great Things about MY Preschooler

A few days ago on Facebook, I saw a link to an article (I think posted by Daily Mom), about the great things about preschoolers. I read it and its so sweet. 

11 Great Things About Preschoolers

I definitely got what the writer was saying about wishing away the littleness of her first child and being excited to move on to the next stage. I did the same thing with Sam. I couldn't wait for him to roll over, walk, talk, sleep through the night or whatever. Looking back, I think this is why I felt like I needed to have another baby so soon (they're only 20 months apart). I missed the little baby stage that I had wished away, but I think this is natural for first kids. 

A brand new parent wants to see her baby's first steps and first words and experience all of those firsts that are so exciting and we put so much value on as a society. Parents LOVE to compare at what age their kid hit all of these important milestones vs. other kids. It's nice to be reminded to live in the moment and suck up all of these little things while they're around forever. 

So without further ado, here are 11 great things about MY preschooler. 

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1. He thinks I can fix anything. Even broken sidewalk chalk. Which is not, in fact, fixable. 

2. He states the obvious. "Mama! I'm eatin' cookies in the bathroom!" "Mama! You have claws! And       bears have claws!" "Mama! Abby stinks! She pooped!"I get squeaky voice news bulletins about every 10-15 minutes on average. 

3. Everything is brand new, even if its not. Every time we go outside is like going to Disney World for the first time. Same with car trips, the store, toys he's lost and re-found. He sees life through perfect un-jaded rose colored glasses. 

4. He negotiates. He has an idea of what he really really wants. But he's open to negotiation. Two cookies ("Two cookies mama! One two!") can easily become one granola bar, or even string cheese if you make him feel like it was his idea the whole time. 

5. He's a teacher. He loves learning new things but more than that, he really loves showing them to Abby. So far he's taught her how to sit on the potty, wash her hands, and take the leaves off of strawberries and throw them in the trash. It really makes my life easy. 

6. He still cuddles. I mean obv. He's my 'best boyfriend.' I relish his hundred million hugs and kisses a day because I know there will come a time when it'll be like pulling teeth. 

7. He's a bookworm. Every night before bed we read. And read. And read. At times there is a pile of books next to his bed, and I can' ever tell him no more. He can also recite the Very Busy Spider and Brown Bear, Brown Bear. I'm so grateful he has a love of books and not screens. 

8. He knows how to relax. A man needs his rest. Sam's main chill spot is right in the middle of the couch, with a drink, and usually with his legs crossed. The latest addition of the all white briefs makes it perfection. 

9. He loves animals. Having compassion for creatures that need caring for is such an amazing quality to have and I think it shows so much more depth of character than holding only human interests at heart. 

10. He finds joy in little things. Bubbles, a hot bath, a handful of M&Ms, a really cool bug on the window screen, all still hold wonderment and happiness. He's not yet moved into the realm of material possessions or needing knock out over the top activities to make his day. I'm hoping to hold onto this for as long as possible. 

11. He's compassionate. If anyone sheds a tear of makes a sound hinting at distress, he's there with as many hugs and kisses and "it's otay"s it takes to make you feel better. He has a huge heart, and wants everyone to be as happy as he is. 

Potty Journal: Week 2

The last time I wrote about Sam on the potty I was aaaaalmost at the end of my rope. Frazzled. Frustrated. And I had no idea what to do next. 

Over the two days that followed, he had more accidents on the floor than he had been having initially. Lysol and paper towels were our best friends. 

Something has happened over the rest of week though. Something clicked for him. 

That peeing every ten seconds problem? Gone. 

The frustration and discouragement? Gone.

The really huge problem I thought we could never get over: peeing in his pants and not knowing/ caring? Gone.

It took the better part of a week of peeing on the floor and in his (super cool) new underwear, but with gentle reminders he now seems to know that pee doesn't go all over the floor or in his pants, but ONLY in the potty. He gets it. 

He now refuses to pee in his pants. In the past three days he has been totally accident free except overnight, which isn't really an accident as overnight dryness is about physiological growing, not understanding or executing a task. 

I still put a pull up on him at nap time and obviously at bedtime. Today though he did wake up dry from his nap but I'm still using pull ups just in case. 

Today we even went out to the store with my mom and brother, potty seat in tow. He started jumping around and wiggling so I knew he had to go. We went into the big, scary, (even for adults) public bathroom and he went! Right away! No sitting and coaxing for 15 minutes. It was awesome.

I feel like I'd been dreading this particular milestone since he was a baby. Its like, a BIG one. I know he still has a long way to go; he doesn't pull his own pants down or say that he needs to go using words, and poop is pretty much luck if it goes in the potty or not (but we haven't really talked much about poop yet) and I know that he still may regress and go back to having accidents, but I feel like we have a good foundation. He gets the concepts, he seems proud of himself for learning and I think now I have SOME clue what I'm doing. 

Things that Helped and Things that Didn't

*I loved the book The No-Cry Potty Training Solution. It totally goes along with my stress free, gentle parenting approach. Rereading certain parts really helped get through those initial dark potty days, after the initial enthusiasm wore off and before the success started to kick in. 

*A lot of places talk about hyping the whole new underwear thing, but honestly, Sam could take them or leave them. He really doesn't care about clothes and prefers being naked to anything. It definitely wasn't a huge catalyst to peaking his interest, but now he really likes wearing them.

*He did respond to the whole sticker chart thing. It's just a piece of paper taped to the bathroom wall. I got books and sheets of all different kinds of stickers and he gets to pick whatever one he wants. It's a nice little reward that doesn't cost a fortune or fill my house with junk. 

*TMI but the watch-and-learn method really works too. He watched both of us and we told him what was going on and then I propped up the mirror so he could watch himself and that helped him out too.

*Lastly and most importantly, the best decision I made through this whole thing was letting him run around naked and pee on the floor. Sure it was a mess and stressful, but n hindsight, I think this is what really got him to get what's going on with that "need to pee" feeling. 

Now he's free to relax like a little man. Tighty whities, chillin' on the couch with a beverage. 

Friday Night BFFLs

  Let a 3 year old stay up way way past his bedtime and then try to take a picture and this is the result. Quality. 

Our Attachment Parenting Journey; First Birth Story

       I was inspired to write this series of posts after describing The Baby Sleep Book and The Attachment Parenting Book by Dr. William and Martha Sears, RN in the Book List post. Writing what I thought was going to be a simple book review began bringing up old memories and feelings for me from what was a very difficult time in my life. 

     Shorty after finding out that we would be having a beautiful baby boy in November 2010, we found out that Jeff would be over seas for the end of my pregnancy, possibly the birth and the first six months of Samuel’s life. We were both devastated. Instead of being excited to welcome our child into the world, I was fraught with anxiety over missing my husband, guilt over him having to miss all of the precious firsts that I would be present for and so frightened that I wouldn’t be able to care for Sam on my own. 

It's a boy!

        It was a very scary and frightening time. As I think about it, I still have a lot of anger and resentment that that sweet precious time in all of our lives was stolen. The first pregnancy and new baby as newlyweds is a once-in-a-lifetime thing that can never be replaced and we were not allowed to experience it. I had no idea what I was doing during my pregnancy. I knew I was vomiting, a lot, every day, but I didn't concern myself with learning about my pregnancy, educating myself on childbirth, infant care or what to expect after Sam was born. I thought that going to the OB for my check ups was all you were supposed to do, and I basically sailed through my pregnancy distracted over the loneliness I was experiencing with my husband so far away.  

     Thankfully Jeff was allowed to come home for three days to see Samuel come into the world. It was such a blessing at the time and such a surprise, that I knew being induced in these three days was essential to our family function. Even though I was a week before my due date and I was very unfavorable to go into labor I didn’t care. I needed my husband with me for the birth and I needed him to see Sam as a newborn before he left again. I would never chose a planned ‘premature’ induction for my family again. It took three days on pitocin for Sam to be born. It was unbelievably painful, scary and frustrating. I was confined to the bed and made to lay at an uncomfortable angle for the sake of the monitors. The nurses were rude to me, as if I were expecting the impossible and one even told me to just go home. Another said I would end up with a cesarean.  
     
     In the afternoon of the last day, I opted for an epidural, which I was determined not to have, but the contractions on pitocin were too much to bear. It didn’t work and took 7 attempts to place. I was also told not to use it as it would “drop [my] baby’s heart rate.” My water broke during an internal and was meconium stained, what I now know is a result of the intense contractions caused by artificial oxytocin.     A few hours later and after 30 minutes of pushing, Sam was born. Immediately after, pediatricians were called to the bedside, as well as several other nurses. I asked, frightened, if my baby was alright. I was met with that false “YUP!” and big grin that I use on family members when I have a very ill patient but have too many urgent things to do to be bothered to stop and give any explanations. I still don’t know what the term ‘punky’ describes, which was the only explanation I was given. Then the nurses took my baby away for the ‘routine hospital testing,’ first bath and circumcision that we had requested. 

Jeff co-sleeping with Sam before
we knew what it was.

       
     That night, when it was finally time to go to bed, the nurse told me to NOT, under any circumstances, sleep with Sam. She told me a horrible story about a baby who had fallen and gotten trapped in the side rail and died. I was encouraged to swaddle him in the hospital blanket and put him down in his artificial, plastic bassinet to sleep. I was left alone to try to breastfeed, assured that the lactation consultant would be in sometime the next day. I felt pressured to fill out the nursing log to their exact specifications, even trying to force Sam to nurse when it didn’t feel right. I was so happy that my little family was together at last, that I tried not to feel the sting of disappointment that I knew I had sacrificed the birth I wanted, that breastfeeding was not going well and I was constantly suppressing the urge to just get home where I could give him a bottle and not worry.
        
     The first night home was what I now know a perfectly normal night in that Sam did not stop crying all night. He would not sleep in his crib, he wouldn’t eat. Jeff and I were beside ourselves. We called the pediatrician at 3am saying certainly there was something wrong here, why was he crying so hard? Was he sick? In pain? The nurse on the other line end of the line said he was probably very hungry and to give him

a bottle. So we did. And he peacefully slept. And there ended breastfeeding. She also instructed us to bring him in first thing in the morning for a weight check. Which we also did. I now see how silly all of these things were. Of course he cried all night, he missed the safe warm comforts of the womb. He missed all of his needs being continually met. He was not ready to have been born but he was. We spent our last day together traveling to the pediatrician’s office for this weight check. Of course he lost weight. He was 2 days old, that’s what they are supposed to do. But we sacrificed this precious time together because we were fearful.
   
       In the very beginning of this well baby check, the nurse practitioner told be that after Sam was born he had a fever, and the cord had been around his neck several times, making him lethargic at birth. All of this was new information to me. Then she snapped at me words that I will never forget: “What, do you just hold him all the time? You have to put him down you know.” This was the moment I began distrusting the mainstream medical care culture and severely doubting my abilities as a mother.