Two Steps Behind

Sometimes when you're a parent, everything can seem like a blur. Days can seem like endless cycles... Clean the playroom, go to the bathroom, eat your dinner, get ready for school, is it bedtime yet, you need a bath, stop annoying your sibling, don't ask me about getting a pet again, yes we can read a story, yes you can color as soon as you clean the playroom, please only jump off the couch to the mat one person at at time - and stop doing it until the playroom is clean or you'll bust your face and break your toys, oh hey it's bedtime, please be still so I can brush your teeth, get your pajamas on, say five things you're thankful for, pray, tuck in, didn't you just go to the bathroom - why are you up, collapse, sleep, repeat tomorrow.

And that was just the evening.

You go ahead and splash... I'mma sit in the garage and stay dry.

But sometimes parenting affords you the opportunity to just slow down and watch.

This summer we took a lot of outings. We went to our favorite seashore state park, we went on hikes on local trails, we checked out the aquarium, we went to our favorite indoor playground, we visited the Clydesdales.

Those of you with kids know that there comes a point when the reality hits you that your children are no longer completely dependent on you and with this comes a whole range of emotions. Some parents feel freedom at no longer constantly needing to feel strapped to a dependent being. Some parents feel sadness at the loss of the baby days, the snuggles and baby smells and stretchy little baby fingers and squishy baby faces. There's a whole litany of feelings that come along with realizing that your kids are entering "the next phase".

There was a point as I was following my kids ride their bikes one day that it occurred to me that I was taking a lot of pictures this summer of the BACK of my children. Behind them while they rode their bikes, behind them while they balanced across rocks, behind them while they led the way through the woods. From a bench while they climbed play structures and slid down slides. From the shore of the lake while they splashed around in their floaties, ready to get up and pull them in as necessary. The moments in which I needed to direct, to guide, to reign in, to make sure they were immediately at my side are diminishing. My children require the guidelines and rules of whatever activity we are doing, to be reminded to go to the bathroom, provided food for the occasion.

At five and three, I went from needing to be integral to their activities to being two steps behind them at all times. Close enough to intervene, far enough to allow independence.

Swimmies on, Mom's watchful eye 20 yards away...

The feeling that I felt at this: Amazement.

Here are these beings that just a few short years ago required me for everything. And little by little they learned new skills and built on those skills and got stronger and faster and formed opinions and desires and have their own motivations - and now here we are.

I follow them on foot, power walking as they pedal along in front of me. I remind them to stay on the path as they lead the way on beaten paths in forests. I stay close by as they climb rocks, ready to reach out a hand or grab them when they need support.

I am amazed at how they have grown, how they have developed, and how they no longer need me to the same degree to do certain things. And while I long for the day when I no longer hear the words shouted through the house "MOM - I NEED MY BUTT WIPED!!!", I rest in these moments when they straddle between relying on me and relying on themselves.

As they continue to grow, I know that the gap between needing me and not needing me will do the same. That they will learn to properly wipe their own backside, to walk themselves into school, to make their own snacks, to get up on their own without waking me up, to go out with their friends alone, to drive, to go to college, to become their own people with their own lives.

Because yes, I've already made it clear to them that they will not live in my house when they grow up. We've compromised and they can live next door. In their own house. But not here.

Take flight, kiddos...

Here's the thing - as our kids grow, as WE GREW... their parents - OUR parents - were always two steps behind them. Those two steps look differently as they grow. Now I walk behind their bikes and wait on benches at the park. Soon it will be waiting on a bench at the mall while they do their own Christmas shopping and "Meet me back here in 45 minutes". Then it will be reminding them that all they need to do if they're ever in a situation they aren't comfortable in is to pick up the phone and I'll come and get them. Then it will be telling them what finding a job is like, what relationships are like. Relaying my experiences, drying tears, driving to jobs, bringing chicken soup to college dorms (if they live close).

Helping them when they move into their first home, have their weddings, and start families.

As our children learn skills, we too are learning. We are learning what it's like to raise up and let go, all the while providing an appropriate safety net for them to fall into if they need it.

When they need it.

Right behind you guys...

We are learning what it looks like to always be two steps behind.

Top 5 Things I Won't Miss About the Toddler/PreK Phase

In approximately a week and a half I'll begin the process hated by parents everywhere of training my child to use the toilet and no longer urinate and defecate at will in their pants. Seriously - have you ever heard a parent say "Boy, I can't wait to start potty training!" because I certainly haven't.

Potty training is tedious, frustrating, and boring. I would rather wake up every 2 hours to nurse again, and I've already shared my thoughts with you all about babyhood and not missing it.

But... since kids can't crap their pants forever... here I am, getting ready to potty train my daughter - the more headstrong of my two children - and release her from the chains of the diaper.

And this has got me thinking. I LOVE this phase with my kids. They're adorable, they play together really well, they haven't gotten a verbal filter yet so some of the things that come out of their mouths are hilarious, they're discovering how things work and how to navigate the world and take healthy risks. They're at the perfect age for short day trips and still nap in the car allowing us to take longer adventures sometimes. And the best part - they still think I'm cool and awesome, and so there are pretty much endless snuggles, hugs, kisses, high-fives, and silliness abounds.

There are things, however, that I won't miss about this stage. And so I give you, in no particular order...

1. Diapers - Since I've already opened this door, I might as well close it. I've managed to find decent diapers at a good price at our closest Aldi's, but I'm still spending $37.47 for 216 diapers for one kid each month. That's $449.64 in diapers for an entire year - and I just recently found them at that price, which means I had been paying more than that. So let's say $500-600/year on diapers for ONE kid, and for Evie's first year of life I was diapering 2 kids. Go on and vomit now on how much I've spent in diapers, and if you've got more than two kids go on and vomit twice. Do you have any idea what I could be doing for FUN with $500-600/year with my kids? Like... a lot of things. that's what. Never mind that there's very little appealing about wiping up a behind full of squished, disgusting poop that either I didn't smell or a kid didn't alert me to right away and is now smeared all over their behind rather than being in a nice neat little patty with simple wiping required for cleanup. As much as I hate potty training, it's temporary and then I won't have to worry about diapers again.

Pro Tip Find a "family restroom" with a single
toilet and a mirror. Entertainment!
(as long as they don't lick it...)

2. Wiping Behinds in General: My 4.5-year-old son started potty training when he was 3 and recently has gotten tall enough (he's a little guy) to be able to stand up to pee at the toilet or at a little kid urinal. This has given him more independence in going to the bathroom and along with this more confidence. Mom, however, has not let go of the reigns when it comes to wiping his behind after a number-2 evacuation. I just... I don't quite trust his balance to reach back to wipe his bum without falling in the toilet yet. But he has a knack of knowing the exact wrong times to sneak into the bathroom to drop a deuce... like when I'm in the middle of washing dishes or my personal favorite - changing his sister's smooshed, disgusting, poopie diaper (because she can never have an easy poopie diaper when her brother needs to take a crap). Yes, I look forward to the days of not needing to assist in the bodily waste process on a regular basis, saving those efforts for the times when they're sick and can't quite make it to the bathroom in time.

I'll add to this that I also won't miss when going to the bathroom outside of the home becomes a family parade affair. I was standing outside a public restroom in Ogunquit this summer while waiting for my husband to come out and struck up a conversation with a mom who was waiting for her son. She wasn't with him. He was just going to the bathroom. I put that one in the "things to look forward to" column, even if she was standing outside the door yelling in to make sure that he was OK. She wasn't trying to juggle several small kids in a small stall knowing all the while that a line was accumulating outside the door, listening to you repeat the words "don't - NO - do not touch that!" several times in an increasingly impatient voice with every repetition.

"Most Likely to Need a Boogie Wipe"

3. Snot: Another fantastic way to pay for my kids' post-high school training/education would be for a quarter to drop out of the sky every time I hear some variation of the phrase "Mom, I need a boogie wipe". Now look, I'm lucky in that both of my kids have always been great about actually blowing their nose and not just inhaling it back into their heads, and they're good about asking for a wipe as soon as it drips halfway between their nose and their mouth so it's not getting all over their face. But at peak cycle during a cold - especially if both of them have it - I hear those words at LEAST 25 times a day. Or more. I've never really counted. It's a lot. So I patiently wait for the days when they are tall enough to reach the tissues (and I trust them not to make a disastrous mess of tissues everywhere) and blow their own nose on their own time.


4. Everything Is Dangerous: My 4-year-old son is a fairly compliant child. If you tell him something is dangerous and he shouldn't do it, he tends - and always has - to retain that information and avoid the thing like the plague. As such, he's never gone through my purse and I'd never had an issue leaving it in reach. My 2-year-old daughter, on the other hand, is the kind of kid who needs to learn and investigate things for herself in order to be satisfied - she is the "let me check and see" type of kid. As such things get pretty... heart-attack-inducing sometimes. I now need to put my purse on a high shelf at home because I walked out of the bathroom the other day to find my 2-year-old daughter had gone into my bag (a punishable offense alone for many reasons) and went to the bottom of it, got out the EpiPen, removed it from its medical bag AND its plastic storage casing, and when I walked out of the bathroom had removed the safety cap and was trying to reinsert it where it belonged (and by the way - touching the EpiPen is also a punishable offense because of the seriousness of misuse). This same child several days later had managed to reach high up on the counter (again - touching things on the counter without permission is a punishable offense here because they can't see what they're reaching at yet and may get hurt), pull down a bottle of gummy vitamins, remove the "childproof" cap, and begin to eat them (she's fine).

There will be a time when my children will know not to touch a stove incorrectly, be able to discern medicine from food, respect our private spaces like purses and special keepsake boxes, not write on each other with markers, how to properly handle a knife, and just generally not be a menace to their own safety. That time is not now... but when it comes, it will be nice to not constantly feel like at some point today I'll be calling 911 or taking a trip to the walk-in or ER.

"Evie... you need to give her boobs."

5. Lack of Filter: I sometimes love the things that come out of my kids as a result of not having a filter yet... BUT. Last night while drawing, my 2-year-old daughter announced "Mom! I'm drawing you! I made you a vagina!" To this my 4-year-old son looked over and said "Mom, she did, she drew

you a circle vagina... Evie, you need to give her boobs." When we're at home I tend to have a little more grace with this; they're little, they're learning about their bodies, and the last thing I want is for them to be ashamed of their bodies or to think that their bodies are weird and horrible. But there's also a line for appropriateness that we try to teach them... vaginas and boobs are private parts, kids, and we don't just go parading them around, so please don't ever draw those on your school work because they're special private parts. Or when my kids watch out the window of a Burger King at someone parking their car near ours and then waits until the drivers come in to say as loud as they can "Hey Dad! Those guys did a very bad job parking... they're not even in the LINES!!" Look... guys... it's not that adults don't giggle like kids at the words "vagina" and "penis" or mutter under their breath "Geez... what a horrible parking job..."... it's just that we have filters now. And so we're not used to this lack of filter that you all have. So while the penis/vagina/butt talk and humor kind of makes me laugh a little bit, I am going to continue to pray daily that you don't start shouting it out in the middle of Target - which, by the way, thanks for (so far) not shouting those things out in the middle of Target.

Crap... there was that time you asked me rather loudly if Mickey Mouse was a boy and did he have a penis... never mind.

Look, I know that each phase as their things that you worry about or won't miss or don't want to deal with - I won't even get into the things I'm already worried about for the teenage years. And while these things are annoying, frustrating, and heart-attack-inducing - this is certainly an incredibly sweet phase that I am enjoying the heck out of and it may end up being my favorite once they're all grown up. The fascination, the snuggles, the sweet voices, the tiny hands, the crawling into bed with me at 5:00 AM and going back to sleep curled up with a little one in my "spoon"... it's an amazing stage of life and overall - I love it.

But let's be honest.

Diapers are seriously the worst.

When I Look Back, I Feel...

Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me.

I read these blog posts of parents of kids who hit preschool age and find their independence and they have these moments of wistfulness remembering sweet baby sweat smells and how small their babies were and how fast that time seemed to have gone by. Oh those wonderful days of nursing and snuggling and knowing that you were your baby's whole world, and now they're growing and when oh when did that happen... and I feel...

...nothing.

I remember my first year as a parent. I was depressed and didn't know it for 10 months. I was constantly worried about my son's size and not knowing what to do about that croupy cough he got at 9 months old. I overstressed about what food I fed my son and why wasn't I keeping the house clean and how do I get the social contact I just lost by coming home to look at a baby. A baby who, while incredibly cute and snuggly, doesn't speak English and communicates by blinking and pointing. A baby who wouldn't sleep unless I sang him "Boston", "Piano Man" and "Knee Deep" on rotation (no other songs worked... seriously).

All I wanted was to make it to toddlerhood. I even told God I was OK with only having one baby. One was enough.

Then... just as toddlerhood started to come into focus and I thought relief might be on the way... I got pregnant again.

Almost 2 years and 1 week old

My daughter was born a month before my son turned 2. She came into the world screaming, she made sure her presence was known. She had to sleep strapped into a baby seat for the first six months of her life so that she would actually sleep instead of gagging on reflux... which of course made me not sleep because I knew babies "aren't supposed" to sleep in anything other than on their backs flat in a sleep sack or swaddle. My son, my husband, and then my new baby all got colds. During the 2nd month of my daughter's life, we housed 2 teenagers and totalled a car. I got an 8-week ear infection. The last thing my new baby wanted to do during any of this time was snuggle or slow down - she wanted to move, so by the time I could come up to breathe I was contending with a 4-month-old who wanted to do nothing more than crawl. By the time she was 6-months, I was trying to make sure I didn't trip over a baby who would surprise me crawling underfoot while I was cooking dinner. She was climbing and giving me heart attacks at 8-months, and was using short sentences by a year.

If my daughter was ever one of these sweet babies you read about in blogs and books... she hid it well.

As my children hit their various milestones and as I look through old pictures and think back on the tiny people they were, I don't get wistful. I don't become bittersweet at how fast the last 4.25 years have gone by or regret not stopping and playing more cars or reading more stories instead of washing dishes. I would be lying if I said I wished I built more blanket forts or rocked my babies just a little bit longer or that I cherished that last nursing session with both of my kids. I longed for the days when an outing to a park or a museum didn't require a stroller and working around nap schedules or making sure I could breastfeed someone comfortably.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, there were several times that we thought we were going to lose her. I had a hematoma, I had cervical bleeding, I slid down the stairs on my behind leading me to modified bed rest for 2 weeks (which is exactly what the stay-at-home mom of a toddler wants to be doing). During one particular moment of panic, I remember looking at my husband and saying "I know I keep panicking and crying, but I just can't get rid of the feeling that we're not going to be able to keep her."

2.5 years and 8 months old

Sometime during the 6th month of my daughter's life as she crawled around my kitchen on her belly... it hit me - I'm not going to be able to keep my kids. God has given them to me for but a short period of their lives... then I need to let them go. Part of parenting, I've realized through prayer and consideration, is doing that slowly and starting at a young age. So when, at 8 months, my daughter decided to start climbing up the stairs - I didn't stop her. I let her go. When my son decided on a walk at 3 years old he didn't want to hold my hand and instead wanted to run up ahead and pick up sticks and pretend to be a pirate - I didn't stop him. I let him go. I let them run and do things for themselves while keeping a safe distance, watching and making sure they are safe.

God has gifted us with free will... He does the same for us. We run free while He keeps us at a far enough length to allow us independence, but is there for us when we fall. He suggests boundaries, He lets us grow, He lets us make mistakes and feel hurts so that we grow.

They are not mine to keep. They are growing. They want to do for themselves. They are their own people - they've shown me that since the day that they were born. And since that day I have prayed - "God, let me take these personalities that You have gifted them with and use me and use their Daddy to grow them into whatever person You want and have designed them to be. Let us be Your hands and feet in their lives and help them to discover Your plan for them."

And so as they grow and they discover themselves and they do for themselves and they reach out to help each other and others and figure out how to navigate the world... not once have I felt wistful at what has been. I felt a brief guilt over needing a c-section with my son and I felt a brief guilt over not being able to have one-on-one time with my daughter in her early days... but those feelings of guilt have passed and have been replaced with one overwhelming emotion.

Pride.

My kids are only 4 and 2 and they are far from perfect. They are human, and they are kids. They don't always listen, they act out, they are fresh, they don't always eat the dinner I put in front of them.

But my daughter at only 2 years old asks to help wipe down tables and asks how she can help you and my son since he was only 1.5 years old will be the first one at your side if you are sad or upset (even if the reason is that you're another kid in trouble and in time-out, he's concerned). I marvel at the hearts that they are growing to love others, I am amazed at the love they have for each other and the bond they are growing together. I beam with pride when they insist on doing something themselves and then perfect it.

My kids at 4 and 2 dress themselves, put on their own shoes (usually on the right feet), and generally obey safety rules. Strollers are no longer a requirement for most outings (we will be renting one at Disney primarily for storage and napping) and sometimes they can even help carry things.

3.5 and 1.5 years old

I was looking through old pictures last night, organizing on our server the hundreds of pictures we've taken over their daily lives. I came across a video of my daughter at about 14 months, toddling around the driveway while her brother looked on, digging away in the garden. "Evie," I heard my husband's voice say, "don't climb up the stairs." The video moved away from the moving toddler as he redirected her several times before she finally just gave up and walked away, but not before casting a defiant look that said "Fine... but those stairs are mine later."

This is when I had the thought... is there something wrong with me? Am I broken because I am not feeling any of the wistful feelings or bittersweet thoughts that I read about in blogs? Why don't I feel any of those "Wow... time sure does fly..." feelings that I keep hearing about?

Instead I felt wonder, amazement, and pride at how much my daughter has grown in the last year. My heart grew three sizes as I watched my son's face in the video and thought about how much he loves his little sister and watches out for her.

Last night as I sat and mulled over these things I realized... there isn't anything wrong with me.

Every child is different. Every parent is different. Every person is different. 

Maybe I am too close to the baby stage to "miss" it and in several years I'll see this differently. Maybe I won't. Somehow, I just don't know that I'm wired to look back and long for the days of babyhood. I'm incredibly excited to see my kids grow into their own people and see what God has designed them to be. When I see old pictures and videos, I am amazed at how far they've come and find it hard to believe they were ever so little... because now, they're just NOT.

And that's OK.

It's OK that I don't long for (or don't think I'll long for) those days of babyhood and it's OK that you do. It's OK that I am not that worried about holding on a little longer and it's OK that you are. It's OK that I want to make sure the dishes get done and it's OK that you're leaving them there.

It's OK.

This morning my 4-year-old son threw on some slip-on shoes and walked out to the end of the driveway to pick-up the newspaper, a job that he asked if he could do. No, Mom, don't come with me - I can do it myself.

If they paid children to say those words - "I can do it myself" - few would pay for college.

I watched from a safe distance as he went to the end of the driveway (they threw the paper about 5 feet in from the "end"), turned around, and came back.

My heart swelled with pride as I watched my little boy's face reflect a confidence boost because I trusted him and gave him room to do something himself.

I'll keep on praying that they will open their heart to God's plan for their lives. I'll continue to keep my distance away and my arms outstretched. I'll continue to watch in wonder as they grow and become their own person. I'll wait for them to need me and I'll try to be patient as they pull back and come back in their own times.

And I won't wonder if there's something wrong with me anymore.

I'm doing OK.

And so are you.

4 years and 2 years (and a couple of months) old

Top 5: "They Didn't Tell Me That..." About Parenting

I've been a parent now for 3 years, 8 months, and 28 days (thanks to the duration calculator I found for letting me know exactly how long it's been - helpful tool). It's been a countless number of ups, several downs, and an infinite amount of teachable moments. I have been stretched, I have celebrated, I have grown, I have felt small. I have never felt more awake and alive and I have never felt more tired.

It all depends on the day, maybe even the moment.

Over the last 3 years, 8 months, and 28 days I've read a number of blog posts, articles, books, and social media snippets about parenting. Silly memes about toddlerhood, heartfelt posts of mushy moments, snarky recounts of grocery store tantrums, comments filled with opinions and advice, technically and medically written articles about the pros and cons on everything you can think of. Between all of the things - you would think that the average plugged-in mom who reads and tries to do research and stay on top of things would have found out all of the things and have covered all of the "they didn't tell me THAT about parenting" that's out there.

Little life-changers. Cute, ain't they? 

But no. No no no. There were other things. And these things that no one warned me about are so minute and silly that maybe you think they're not worth me sharing.

Oh, my friend, but if they happen to you - you'll thank me. Or maybe you're reading this in solidarity saying "OH HECK YES" with every word. Maybe you have your own little things that you've never seen show up in a blog post or journal article that you wish someone had told you. Whatever.

Maybe this is just a means for me to vent and you've heard all of these and this post is boring to you. My apologies. My blog, my monkey. Or something.

So what didn't anyone warn me about...?

Parenting: It's a messy job... and... well... we do it.

Dry Hands: When I was working full-time, I was filling my water bottle 3-4 times a day (at least) and was applying hand lotion every time I got back from washing my hands in the bathroom. My hands were so soft - I would get compliments at the end of the winter when I would get manicures at how soft my hands were considering how dry people's hands get during that time of year. Enter motherhood. I'm now changing diapers (and using their accompanying wipes), cleaning messes, and forgetting my gloves when I leave the house. I am lucky if I remember to apply lotion in the morning and at night as part of my routines. Water... well... I have a bottle, and I struggle to make sure that I fill it 2-3 times in a much, much longer day. My hands - as a result - have been cracking due to dryness for the first time in as long as I can remember. It's frustrating and I work to remember to hydrate myself and my skin - but I constantly fail. And I start over again.

My Clothes Became Frumpy: I stand in front of my closet these days and realize that my wardrobe has changed drastically. Where it used to consist primarily of clothes that I wore to look presentable and at least semi-professional, it's now full of clothes that I don't care if they get covered in snot/paint/food/whatever in the course of the day. I was going out for drinks & apps with Steve the other night and pulled 4 shirts out of the closet before I found one that wasn't covered in grease stains (presumably from turning away from cooking to break-up a toy quarrel or from greasy covered hands diving in for a hug). When did it happen that I couldn't even find a presentable outfit to go out on a simple date and feel like - to quote Michelle Pfieffer in "One Fine Day" - "a woman and less like a dead mommy"? But there it is.

If you haven't seen the movie - after this mishap, she wears a dinosaur t-shirt.
Because that's what Moms carry around for spare clothing. Seriously.

You Need To Remember That You CAN Be Sexy: Now here is something that is never ever talked about out loud. I've read what seems like a million blog posts or snarky comments about women who just don't want to even think about sex at the end of the day because they're sooooo tiiiirrrred and just don't feel like they even want to THINK about sex when their husband gives them "that look". Um... hello? Am I the ONLY mommy out there that wants to remember how the children got there in the first place? And how much FUN it was? Man, my husband WANTS me and I WANT him and... and... I just do. not. feel. sexy. It's not that I don't want to have sex - I just feel like that "dead mommy" I was just talking about and how in the world could he want someone that's tired and has dry cracked hands and looks so danged frumpy. Pick up, Buttercup... do something about it. Kids are in bed? Turn on the sexpot, Sweet Cheeks. Look at him and see the hotness that he is - no, forget that, you already know that. Look in the mirror - even when you're a dead mommy - and see the hotness that HE sees. Even if it's just a fast-action go before you crash - we can't lose that part of ourselves. And we should freaking talk about it more. Out loud. Seriously.

Good-looking AND an awesome dad? Seriously. This guy deserves me to sex it up once in a while.

Time With Girlfriends Isn't Always Quality: I had this picture when I came home from working that all my friends who were also at home full-time and I would get together and our kids would play and we'd be able to catch up and talk and sip coffee. Oh no. Such is not the case. We spend time discussing our kids, chasing our kids, gulping coffee, and lamenting that we should attempt to get together with our husbands (or without) and withOUT the children. Playdates do NOT allow for quality grown-up time. Neither do trips to the mall playground, the park, an ice cream stand, a museum... whatever it is, they're just not times for quality adult time. I know what my girlfriends with kids look like and those without are very patient and gracious with me as I send emails/texts and we have the occasional phone call.

(I bet now is when you're like - oh, Top 5... here comes the sappy "But I Love My Kids" bullet point. Well, you're totally wrong. You already know I love my kids, let's be real. We all love our kids and we all can't believe how fast they grow and we all wish we could hold on to time and blah blah blah. That's not what this post is about. Moving on.)

You Suddenly Hate Yourself as a Child: I was the only one (that I can remember) my mom never looked at me and said that she wished I had a child that was "just like me". In fact, she's occasionally called me "the easy one" - but somehow, I feel like that couldn't be the case. Because I threw massive temper tantrums as a kid. And as a tween/teen I bottled everything up and withdrew until I just completely exploded. My daughter is an incredibly dynamic, intelligent, well-spoken, hilarious 21-month-old who inherited my temper tantrums. How... was... I... not... raised... by... gypsies??? This morning she held a football in her hand while wearing a Tom Brady jersey. Her brother put on a football helmet and said "Throw me the football, you're Tom Brady and I'm Edelman!". She proceeded to have a full-scale meltdown because she wanted to be Tom Brady. What.... the...???? What... I... Mom: I know you read every one of my posts. You've said a number of times that this is just like how I was as a kid. I'm sorry. I am publicly apologizing. No one person has wanted to make me inhale a bag of chocolate chips while hiding in a dark closet like my daughter does when she has a "meltdown morning".

Temper tantrums don't happen while they're sleeping. Just as a heads up.

Look - I love my job. I looked at my husband when we got married and told him that my dream job would be to have two wonderful children and to be a stay-at-home mom. This is seriously the best gig ever and my kids have helped me to grow and expand and get closer to God and learn more about myself than probably any other people have in my entire life. But it ain't glamorous, and it ain't clean, and it ain't June Cleaver.

(Here's your mushy closer... are you ready?)

But for all the cracked fingertips and snot-stained t-shirts and temper tantrums in the world... I wouldn't ever trade it. There's not a moment that I don't look around at the beautiful mess that our life is and thank God for it.

Potty Training By the Seat of My Pants

I gave up on the concept of letting books dictate my parenting style right around the time that Steve read something in a book that told him our kid should be stacking blocks at 9 months old.
OK... now if you're an experienced parent you're probably laughing. If you're a new parent you might be worrying, wondering what I'm going to say next about it. If you're not a parent who knows what you're thinking... so I'll just continue.

I'll wait for the experience parents to finish laughing and telling stories about what things parenting books told them that were ridiculous too before I continue. Are you good now? Okay. I'll go on.

That night I took the book from him, closed it, and told him he was done because NONE of Will's 9-month-old playmates were stacking blocks. And in all honesty I haven't opened up a parenting technique book since despite recommendations on books about sleep methods and separation issues and whatever. I am currently about two chapters into "The Five Love Languages for Children" and have really only read books about how to make sure you don't go off the rails as a parent. I read devotionals and books about how to understand my kids and relate to them, but I don't generally speaking read specific parenting books that include milestones to look for.

Actual screenshot from today of my "Goodreads" app.
I won't tell you how long it took me to get to 17% read.
The other book you can't see from the screenshot? Schindler's List.
I won't tell you how long it took me to get to 50%, or how long it's been collecting dust.

I don't have room in my life for that kind of stress. I just don't.

As such, when I decided that it was time to begin potty training Will - I didn't even ask for recommendations. I just decided it was time. I brought Will to pick out underwear. I bought a small potty. I bought a seat insert for the big potty.

No books, no searching for advice. Just some anecdotal information from other moms who talked about it and a general knowledge of my kid and how he operates.

We are four-and-a-half days into the experience, and so far it's been... interesting. I've mentioned before that I think that moms sharing their experiences can be wonderfully beneficial, so I figured I'd share a few of the things that I've learned and experienced with you.

1. Poop is scary. Over the winter, Will had a "naked phase" during which time I moved the potty into the kitchen. He peed on the floor but pooped in the potty during these 4 hours, so I assumed (foolishly) that pooping would be the easier thing for him to experience. This is not the case. The moment he started to make that scrunched up face indicating that a load was about to be dropped out of his behind, I picked him up and brought him into the potty. Crying, wailing, and near-tooth-gnashing ensued. "NO I DON'T WANNA POOP ON THE POTTY!!!" echoed off the walls and probably was heard by my neighbors. Ten minutes later he pooped. I did the whole positive encouragement thing and reassured him that it was great. I've been bringing him with me in when I poop so he can see that it's really not a big deal - everyone poops. You know... maybe I should just get him that book, come to think of it...

Anyways, he's genuinely scared of pooping in the potty. We've gotta work on that. I refuse to rub his back and hold his hand in his college dorm bathroom. 

Available for purchase on Amazon! 

2. Bribery... I mean... rewards... are awesome. Is it really bribery if I give him chocolate chips after he uses the potty? I read or heard somewhere on some website or blog or something that you shouldn't reward kids for things that they should just do as part of life. Among these things are putting their clothes in the laundry, making their beds, helping with the dishes, and using the bathroom. I don't know about that. It seems to work when you reinforce the behavior and then phase it out as time goes on once it's just rote behavior.  There's something to be said for conditioning practices, and for crying out loud it makes me feel like I'm putting that BA in Psychology to good use. I don't have my son throwing a temper tantrum when he doesn't get his single chocolate chip for peeing right before bedtime, and he's certainly not getting one for peeing in the bathroom at Target. But so far it seems to be working and helping him to pay more attention to what his body is doing so he can make it to the bathroom. This is enough for me to continue to feed my kid a chocolate chip when he pees and 2 if he poops. No accidents all day? Kid, you're getting a mini-Hershey's.

One for one and two for two - get it? I'm so clever...

3. Fun for the whole family! Our almost 15-month old daughter has been getting in on the fun. Every time Will needs to use the potty, she's running in right behind us. If he's on the big potty, she'll plop on the small one and start tearing off tiny pieces of toilet paper to drop between her legs into the pot. I've been told that the second child will often want to train early because the first one is using the toilet, so I have (for the most part) been allowing her to follow us in there. What I have noticed is that she can be distracting for Will sometimes, so I have to meter it and sometimes she doesn't get to come in (see number one above about number twos). This, of course, lends to a meltdown because the potty is just so darned exciting! Either way, she's getting involved in the process and has gotten a few new words out of it (bathroom - bah-ruhm, chocolate - chot-tit, and hands - han). And let's not forget the high-fives from everyone when Will is successful in the bathroom-going endeavors. Most necessary. 

4. Kids say (and do) the darndest things. Today while I was waiting the requisite 3 minutes (arbitrary amount of time I wait for Will to try and pee), I noticed that Will was flexing his pelvic muscles to make his little tiny penis bounce. This... this didn't start at home. This started in the bathroom at Target. So I asked him, "Will, whatcha doing?" to which he said "Making my penis bounce."

Of course.

This bouncing led to him giving himself a tiny person erection (which he didn't question). I drew no attention to any of what he was doing other than asking and let it go. When he was done with his 3 minutes (he didn't go, presumably because he was doing the aforementioned) we pulled his pants back on, washed his hands, and went on our way.

The next time he saw his penis, the tiny person erection had of course passed. This led to him screaming from our bathroom "OH NO!! Mommy! My penis fell down!!!"

It's times like these that I am sad that we can't laugh at more things as parents so as to not discourage our children or make them think they are strange. I assured him he was completely fine. He felt better. And then we went into the "poop is scary" phase (see number one about number twos above... again).

Note: I share this story with you because kids are ridiculous, and if no one warns you then your kid will do something like this and it will freak you out. No one warned me about certain things... so... you're welcome for this story. 

Because these two are ridiculous... never a dull moment.

5. They WILL figure it out. Today after breakfast, I was cleaning up the kitchen when I noticed Will standing perfectly still pinching at the crotch of his pants with a strange look on his face. "Will," I said, "I think you need to pee, Buddy." He scrunched his face up all concerned and said "Yeah I do", so we rushed to the bathroom and missed an accident by the narrowest of margins. After he was done and his hands were washed, I explained to him that if he felt that again where he thought he had to pinch himself that he should let me know. "Will, make sure you say 'Mommy! I need to go to the bathroom right away!' and we'll get you there super duper fast... OK?" Sure enough, within minutes of being home from the store he got a concerned look on his face again and said "Mommy INeedToGoPeeRightAwaaaaaaay!!!". We jumped up, ran to the bathroom, and missed an accident by an even narrower of margins than the narrowest. I've been watching as he's been paying more and more attention, and it's been pretty cool to see him discover what his body does and how to handle it.

The war zone. I even got a stool to reach the sink.

So I didn't read a book on this and I'm totally flying by the seat of my pants to teach my kid how to use the potty, but it seems to be working out OK. It might take me longer than a day or a weekend or a night or even a week like some books will say - and some people have used those methods with great success - but I'm all right with that. To quote so many parents that I've talked to about it - very few children go to kindergarten without being relatively potty trained. 

And also to quote so many parents I've talked to and a mantra we tend to stand by: You have to do what works best for you and your family. Take all the advice, cull it and tailor it for your needs, make your own story.

That's what works best for us. 

That and chocolate chips. 

I Can't Wait... But I'll Surely Miss...

It was one of those nights last night that left all four members of my family at a lower-level of cope this morning.

The baby woke up at 2:00 AM for a diaper change and looking for a nursing. Then again at 5:00 AM, ready for the day.

The toddler woke up at 2:00 AM-ish, presumably due to a bad dream. He did not go back to sleep until after 4:00 AM.

This meant that Mom & Dad also slept terribly after staying awake until after 11:00 PM just enjoying each other's company. 

Of course the first thing I thought this morning as I made breakfast in a sleepy haze was that I couldn't wait until they were old enough to get through a bad dream by themselves, get themselves to the bathroom and back to sleep, find their own glass of water, and let Mommy sleep. 

Sweet, luscious, delicious, wonderful sleep. I haven't seen a full 8-hours since I got pregnant with our son almost 4 years ago. 

Then it hit me that for every "I can't wait until..." 

there's a "...but I'll surely miss" right behind it. 

I can't wait until Evie has finished nursing... but I'll surely miss those daily moments of bonding with my sweet baby girl. 

I can't wait until Will can sooth himself back to sleep after a scary dream... but I'll surely miss his small, timid voice calling for his Mom and Dad in the middle of the night, looking for comfort. 

I look forward to the day that I can get a full night of solid sleep again... but I'll surely miss those quiet moments of cuddling with my kids while they're still so small. 

I am excited to see them start school so I can have more productive days... but I'll surely miss tickle mornings, silly dancing, and little hands "helping" me with dishes. 

I can't wait to only have to cook one dish for a meal... but I'll surely miss the toddler-speak uttering the words "I don't die dis, peas I have some maca-oh-nee?". 

I can't wait to be able to leave my kids in child care without a meltdown long enough to get in a workout at a gym/sit through a church service... but I'll surely miss the big hugs I get from those little arms when I appear to "rescue" them, reminding me that they need me. 

I can't wait for Evie to walk as her primary mode of transport... but I'll surely miss watching her smile that wide smile as she power-crawls around the room, wiggling her little diaper bum. 

I can't wait for my kids to start to get into reading chapter books so I can share with them some of my all-time favorites... but I'll surely miss their little bodies cuddled on my nap as I read them some of their current ones. 

I will breathe a small sigh of relief when my primary soundtrack isn't loaded with kids' music... but I will miss the excitement my kids get when "We Are the Dinosaurs" or "The Elmo Slide" come on the play list.

It will be so nice to be able to have my kids get themselves in or out of a car and into a store... but I'll miss the containment that having carseats and my double stroller currently provide. 

I will be so glad when I don't have to say "No, don't do that" all the time... but I'll miss the giggles that they have when they dump the box of cereal all over the floor and start playing in the mess together. 

I'm excited as my kids learn more and more words and I'm able to better communicate with them... but I miss Will's adorable pointing, and I know I'll miss Evie's expressions and one-baby-word sentences. 

I can't wait to hear my kids say their nightly prayers without thanking God for a cartoon character... but I'll definitely miss their quiet little voices also thanking Him for Mom, Dad, and each other. 

Someday the robins will fly into the yard and Will won't give them a second glance.

Someday climbing up on the "lego box" to look out the window won't be such an accomplishment that Evie grins and gets excited every time she does it. 

Someday I'll long for the days where they took afternoon naps. 

Someday they're going to take their bikes out of the driveway and go to the corner store for pizza and soda on their own. 

Someday they're going to go to a play-date without me staying there with them.

Someday they're going to drive themselves to school, to work, to their friends' house. 

Someday they're going to grow up and I'll miss so much about now. I know this. I'm already living through it with each passing month.

But as much as there is a list of things that I'll miss, 

I cannot deny that there is so much that I'm also so excited for 

what's coming up for these kids as they grow.

You know what?

I won't miss poop in the tub though.