Happy Easter and Passover everyone! For me, Easter is the end of Spring Break as I know it. School was scheduled to be closed on Monday, but we finally got the comp time for one of the eight snow days that we had to work. Funny, that’s how I remember comp time working in the business world too.
Thanks to my son’s preschool, spring break was pretty easy for me. His school is also a daycare, so it doesn’t close during school holidays, plus it has a school-age program for my six-year-old daughter. I used to feel guilty about sending her, but I simply cannot provide the level of entertainment that she requires. And her therapist (that’s another story – See Major Meltdowns: From bad to worse) says she needs a lot of structure, so it turns out that sending her was the right thing for her all along. read more
It all started two weeks ago. My husband got a new job that came with a new commute. His old job had him working at home. I liked having him home. We had a good morning routine. We got the kids out of bed, dressed them, got them breakfast and then we’d all eat as a family. Then my husband would walk my daughter to her bus stop and I’d drive my son to preschool.
The new commute would change all of that. My husband had to leave earlier, so no more family breakfast, no more teamwork in the morning. Sort of. These days we divide and conquer. My husband wakes my three-year-old son early, gets him dressed and takes him to school. I wake my daughter, get her dressed, have breakfast with her, and get her to her bus.
It would make sense for me to handle both kids, because I’m home, but we decided on the new routine for two reasons. First, my son is potty training and he always has to poop right about bus time, and if he had to wait, either he’d poop his pants on the way to the bus or my daughter would miss the bus waiting for him to poop. Second, whenever I brought both kids to the bus stop back in Seattle, my son would drag his feet and cry and carry on all the way to the bus stop. My daughter was always lucky to catch the bus. read more
For all of you who aren’t into all the potty talk, I apologize. Next week’s post will not be about potty training, I promise. But whenever we have a success that has potential to help other parents, I like to share it. I love to hear about your successes too, because God knows I need all the help I can get!
I thought it would never happen. But it did. It DID! This week my son pooped in the potty! And all it took was two bribes, lots of frustration and a whole lot of trying.
As I said last post, thanks to the herculean efforts of his preschool staff, my son learned to pee in the potty in about three weeks, but pooping was a whole different story. Every day he pooped in his underwear and every day I cleaned it up. My husband has always changed diapers but changing poopy underwear made him “sick.” He did gag pretty convincingly, I’ll give him that. Having poopy underwear did not seem to bother my son. He didn’t enjoy it, because the few times I said he’d have to wait to get changed, he wasn’t happy. I made him wait because I was weary of changing him, and I thought maybe giving him a disincentive to poop his pants might push him closer to the toilet. I was wrong. read more
Potty 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
I 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