Potty Training May Kill Me: #2

vector_toilet_original_1Potty training has begun! It all started when my three-year-old son went to his new preschool. On his third day, when I picked him up, his teacher said “How do you feel about potty training?”

I said, “He’s just not interested in it. They’d ask him every time they changed his diaper at his old school and he never wanted to do it.”

She said, “We’d like to start potty training him next week.”

It was all I could do not to say, “I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” read more

Getting back on the horse

imagebot (8)When we first got to Maryland, we couldn’t move into our house because we were waiting for our stuff. We stayed with a close friend on her horse farm for a week. Since then, my daughter’s been dying to ride a horse.

My little girl took to the horses right away. Our friend, Elaine, let her come along to feed them, and my daughter couldn’t pet them enough. We couldn’t do a riding lesson while we were there because Elaine didn’t get home until dark, and when she did have time, the weather didn’t cooperate.

We moved out of Elaine’s a month ago and my daughter’s never stopped talking about the horses. So last week I asked Elaine for a riding lesson. We had a scheduling conflict so my daughter had to choose between a trip to her happy place — the American Girl store — and riding. I was shocked when she chose riding. She was psyched. On Saturday morning, we all went to Elaine’s to watch my daughter’s first lesson. read more

The Finger

imagebot (6)I picked up the phone. My husband was on a conference call and had already missed his call waiting twice. “This is Sherry from preschool. Your son hurt his finger and the nail has ripped off. He’s been a trooper so far but can you come?”

“We’ll be right there.” We were already in the driveway, on our way to pick the other car from the mechanic’s. We headed straight for preschool as I cursed the 15 minutes it takes to get there. We finally arrived, jumped out of the car and they took us to him. He held up his thumb and started to cry as I picked him up. A Band-Aid hung loosely around his thumbnail. His thumbnail hung loosely at the top of his finger and his hand was covered with blood. The preschool director explained to my husband that the kids were cleaning up and a little girl dropped a block on his finger. He’d asked them for the Band-Aid. She gave us a wet washcloth to wrap around his finger to absorb the blood. read more

Back to normal, and not soon enough

imagebot (1)One. More. Day. Tomorrow starts the first normal week we’ve had in two weeks. Fifteen days, to be exact. Fifteen long days.

School started last week, on Thursday, but it snowed Friday so school was cancelled. At least we got a one-day reprieve. My husband and I don’t have any alone time these days unless both the kids are at school during the day. Since we moved, the kids won’t go to sleep in the new house without a parent in the room (See “Home Strange Home” below), so we rarely see each other at night.

We were luckier than some parents. Our son’s preschool is also a daycare so it was open most of the break. Only our six-year-old daughter was home with us for all of that time. She takes up a lot of our energy. She bores easily and then she starts trouble or she whines. It’s not like we don’t give her attention. We do. We play with her. My husband taught her checkers and chess. I bake with her. We made peanut butter cookies. We take her to the supermarket – she likes anyplace that sells stuff. We even had a girls’ day. I took her swimming and to lunch and to fro-yo, but we can’t compete with the entertainment that school offers. read more

Home Strange Home

BedI hate bedtime. In the old house, the kids took a while to fall asleep but they did sleep early enough to give my husband and me some time alone at night. Not so now. Since our first day in the new house, both kids require one of us to sit with them until they fall asleep. It’s not quality time, either. We just sit there and wait. By the time that’s over, I have to go to bed. I really miss my husband.

Neither kid is comfortable in his/her room yet. Our six-year-old daughter has to keep her light on, despite the hallway light blaring into her room. No exaggeration. You could read by it. She’s the feisty one. She’ll lie down while my husband reads her book, but after that, while he’s sitting with her, presumably so she’ll fall asleep, she’ll open her eyes, sit up, talk, arrange her stuffed animals, ask to brush her doll’s hair, complain that she’s too hot, cold, you name it. Of course we redirect her, but she’s the stubborn one too, so bedtime with her is excruciating. She goes to bed at 8:15 and doesn’t sleep until almost 10. read more