So. We're potty-training.
Enough said.
Enough said, but I will say more...
Potty training with my older daughter was quite the adventure. She showed all the signs of being ready, she is totally intelligent and verbal, and I naively thought, "This won't be too bad!" I really, really tried to be realistic and my head thinking, "Potty training is challenging. There will be times of frustration. She won't pick it up right away..." But really in the back of my head I knew MY daughter is amazing and wonderful and above-average and potty-training, as with most other tasks she takes on, would be a piece of cake.
Somehow I didn't anticipate the tears, and the yelling, and unending cleaning up of mind-blowing messes.
Yes, I know potty-training isn't supposed to involve tears and yelling. "Supposed to" being the key phrase. Just like breast-feeding is supposed to be natural, and six month olds are supposed to sleep through the night, and on and on and on.
Granted, Violet did pick up potty training amazingly fast. By the second day she was going either number one or two almost every time we sat her down on the toilet! And by the end of that week was really only having about two accidents a day. I was absolutely floored!
But now we're six weeks in. And there's still good days and bad days. Today was a good day, only one major accident. Wednesday on the other hand, was a bad day. But I guess when you combine diarrhea with potty-training it would be bad for any child.
So, six weeks in we're not there yet. And that's to be expected, but it doesn't make the pee on the couch or the poop on her hand from where she sticks her hand in her dirty diaper or the bucket of stinky diapers any less frustrating. Just like when you know your extremely busy grocery store will only have three lanes open when you have a full cart and you're in a hurry. Expected? Yes. Frustrating? YES.
This too will pass....
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, August 3, 2009
Miracles Still Happen... and They Have Hands
"When it gets warmer and it rains- and it's not lightning!- you can go out and play in the rain."
This is the promise we have been making to Hope since May. Little did we know it would decide to stop raining in Wisconsin for about two months. The lakes and rivers have been down. All the grass is brown. (Well, except for the lady down the street who is obviously obsessive-compulsive about her lawn.)
Finally last Saturday- rain! It began to pour. It was daytime. It was not lightning. And it was warm. All Hope's needed criteria. She took one look out the window and blurted out, "Can I play in the rain?!?" So we sent her out, Minnie Mouse nightgown and all, and she fulfilled her summer dream. It was adorable and fun and very summer carefree-ish.
Being the typical mama that I am, I made sure I had the digital camera and video camera in hand, and captured precious footage of my three year old running through the rain, splashing in puddles, and laughing. I even enjoyed Violet not enjoying the rain. My husband, parents and I laughed as she would step out wanting to play with her sister, then feeling the wet, aerial assault would wrinkle her nose and run back in the garage.
When Hope announced she was finished, I grabbed a wet child under each arm and wrestled them inside with admonitions not to do anything or touch anything but go straight to the bathtub, which they did.
Fast forward four days...
My in-laws were in town from Ohio and we were heading out the door to watch an aerial stunt show at the country's biggest airplane convention.
"Have you seen the video camera?" I asked my husband.
He hadn't. We searched the places we would normally keep it, then all the other places we might accidentally set it down. Then, backtracking to the previous rainy Saturday, we looked all over the garage. Nowhere.
We left for the stunt show with no video camera, my husband reassuring me, "It will show up." But I had a fear taking root. A fear that I had set the camera on the bumper of the car. A fear that in the chaos of taking two kids in from the rain and giving them a bath, the camera had been left on the car's bumper until one of us drove away with it until it bounced off... who knows where. I wanted to cry- and couldn't. Just a small electronic gadget, and yet, the avenue of preserving my family's memories.
Looking back on my own childhood, my parents will tell you today that one of their regrets is that they never bought a video camera. They still wish they had moving footage of our family's memories. Knowing this, a mini-DVD recorder was something my husband and I sacrificed for when we were expecting our first child. We pinched our pennies and purchased that small electronic gadget... that would enable us to record and save priceless, irreplaceable moments in time.
After a week, we resigned ourselves to the fact that our video camera was lost. Maybe crushed on a road somewhere, maybe in some stranger's hands, but gone nonetheless. I contemplated making a flyer about our lost camera and passing it out around the neighborhood. After all, if the camera had fallen off the car, it couldn't have landed far, right?
Imagine our surprise when my husband received a message on Facebook from a stranger saying, "I think I may have your video camera..." We were instructed to call the police department if the video camera was ours and they would give us the number for the person holding the camera.
Phone calls were placed and returned and I was overjoyed Friday when a woman came to our door holding our camera! She and her husband had been driving a mile from our home when they saw the camera laying the road.
Knowing nothing about video cameras, they eventually figured out how to watch the enclosed video to see if there were any clues such as us saying our name or a video showing the front of our house. The video of Hope and Violet in the rain showed our front yard, and they spent part of one day driving around the neighborhood where they had found the camera looking for a fire hydrant and large rock matching the ones in our yard from the video. They called the local police department, but no report had been filed. (The thought never even crossed my mind...)
It took a couple of days before the husband of this duo accidentally opened the door to the mini-DVD (knowing nothing about video cameras, this hadn't occurred to them before). Praise God I had written our last name on the disk, as well as the date I put it in the camera. Finally- a clue! They enlisted the help of a family member who was familiar with the internet and Facebook who looked up our last name and discovered my husband- located near where they had found the camera.
What followed was a Facebook message, several phone calls, and a joyous reunion! With a small... electronic... gadget.
This is the promise we have been making to Hope since May. Little did we know it would decide to stop raining in Wisconsin for about two months. The lakes and rivers have been down. All the grass is brown. (Well, except for the lady down the street who is obviously obsessive-compulsive about her lawn.)
Finally last Saturday- rain! It began to pour. It was daytime. It was not lightning. And it was warm. All Hope's needed criteria. She took one look out the window and blurted out, "Can I play in the rain?!?" So we sent her out, Minnie Mouse nightgown and all, and she fulfilled her summer dream. It was adorable and fun and very summer carefree-ish.
Being the typical mama that I am, I made sure I had the digital camera and video camera in hand, and captured precious footage of my three year old running through the rain, splashing in puddles, and laughing. I even enjoyed Violet not enjoying the rain. My husband, parents and I laughed as she would step out wanting to play with her sister, then feeling the wet, aerial assault would wrinkle her nose and run back in the garage.
When Hope announced she was finished, I grabbed a wet child under each arm and wrestled them inside with admonitions not to do anything or touch anything but go straight to the bathtub, which they did.
Fast forward four days...
My in-laws were in town from Ohio and we were heading out the door to watch an aerial stunt show at the country's biggest airplane convention.
"Have you seen the video camera?" I asked my husband.
He hadn't. We searched the places we would normally keep it, then all the other places we might accidentally set it down. Then, backtracking to the previous rainy Saturday, we looked all over the garage. Nowhere.
We left for the stunt show with no video camera, my husband reassuring me, "It will show up." But I had a fear taking root. A fear that I had set the camera on the bumper of the car. A fear that in the chaos of taking two kids in from the rain and giving them a bath, the camera had been left on the car's bumper until one of us drove away with it until it bounced off... who knows where. I wanted to cry- and couldn't. Just a small electronic gadget, and yet, the avenue of preserving my family's memories.
Looking back on my own childhood, my parents will tell you today that one of their regrets is that they never bought a video camera. They still wish they had moving footage of our family's memories. Knowing this, a mini-DVD recorder was something my husband and I sacrificed for when we were expecting our first child. We pinched our pennies and purchased that small electronic gadget... that would enable us to record and save priceless, irreplaceable moments in time.
After a week, we resigned ourselves to the fact that our video camera was lost. Maybe crushed on a road somewhere, maybe in some stranger's hands, but gone nonetheless. I contemplated making a flyer about our lost camera and passing it out around the neighborhood. After all, if the camera had fallen off the car, it couldn't have landed far, right?
Imagine our surprise when my husband received a message on Facebook from a stranger saying, "I think I may have your video camera..." We were instructed to call the police department if the video camera was ours and they would give us the number for the person holding the camera.
Phone calls were placed and returned and I was overjoyed Friday when a woman came to our door holding our camera! She and her husband had been driving a mile from our home when they saw the camera laying the road.
Knowing nothing about video cameras, they eventually figured out how to watch the enclosed video to see if there were any clues such as us saying our name or a video showing the front of our house. The video of Hope and Violet in the rain showed our front yard, and they spent part of one day driving around the neighborhood where they had found the camera looking for a fire hydrant and large rock matching the ones in our yard from the video. They called the local police department, but no report had been filed. (The thought never even crossed my mind...)
It took a couple of days before the husband of this duo accidentally opened the door to the mini-DVD (knowing nothing about video cameras, this hadn't occurred to them before). Praise God I had written our last name on the disk, as well as the date I put it in the camera. Finally- a clue! They enlisted the help of a family member who was familiar with the internet and Facebook who looked up our last name and discovered my husband- located near where they had found the camera.
What followed was a Facebook message, several phone calls, and a joyous reunion! With a small... electronic... gadget.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Actions Really Are Loud
"I don't understand why you want to wear nightgowns to bed every night. I buy you perfectly nice pajamas, and you never wear them because you always want to wear nightgowns. If you want to wear nightgowns all the time, then I won't buy you pajamas anymore."
Thus I chastised my daughter one morning as we changed her our of her nightgown into shorts and a tank top.
To which she responded, "Do you know why I want to wear nightgowns to bed every night? It's because I want to be like you, Mama."
Stab.
What parent hasn't had a moment like that? Looking with disdain on something your child is doing, only to realize that they are only trying their best to follow your example.
It brings such unexpected, maybe even unwanted, weight to our decisions as parents. Why should we bear such weighty responsibility? Is it fair that what used to be such easy, inconsequential decisions now are not so easy, and bear consequences? Is this what we signed up for when we participated in procreation?
In one word? Yes.
When you have a child, you suddenly have a tiny disciple. Someone watching you, following you, copying you. Whether you're aware of it or not, whether you intended it or not, whether you want it at all. Suddenly, everything you do... matters.
Gulp.
What's more, we can't even just tell our children the right thing to do. Or better yet, have them watch a video series, go to a seminar, and read a good book about "How to Be a Good Person". They won't be shrugged off so easily. Nope, they're becoming little versions of you.
The day will come when our example will matter less, our words and explanations will be understood a little better- though still not necessarily followed, and they won't intentionally try to be so much like us anymore. But today they are small. Today they are pure and untainted by life and experience and pain. Today they are learning all they know about life and being human from us.
So when you look past all the books and flashcards, when you silence the words and nagging, when you remove the clamor of voices and lessons:
What are you really teaching your children?
Thus I chastised my daughter one morning as we changed her our of her nightgown into shorts and a tank top.
To which she responded, "Do you know why I want to wear nightgowns to bed every night? It's because I want to be like you, Mama."
Stab.
What parent hasn't had a moment like that? Looking with disdain on something your child is doing, only to realize that they are only trying their best to follow your example.
It brings such unexpected, maybe even unwanted, weight to our decisions as parents. Why should we bear such weighty responsibility? Is it fair that what used to be such easy, inconsequential decisions now are not so easy, and bear consequences? Is this what we signed up for when we participated in procreation?
In one word? Yes.
When you have a child, you suddenly have a tiny disciple. Someone watching you, following you, copying you. Whether you're aware of it or not, whether you intended it or not, whether you want it at all. Suddenly, everything you do... matters.
Gulp.
What's more, we can't even just tell our children the right thing to do. Or better yet, have them watch a video series, go to a seminar, and read a good book about "How to Be a Good Person". They won't be shrugged off so easily. Nope, they're becoming little versions of you.
The day will come when our example will matter less, our words and explanations will be understood a little better- though still not necessarily followed, and they won't intentionally try to be so much like us anymore. But today they are small. Today they are pure and untainted by life and experience and pain. Today they are learning all they know about life and being human from us.
So when you look past all the books and flashcards, when you silence the words and nagging, when you remove the clamor of voices and lessons:
What are you really teaching your children?
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
First Sunburn
My beautiful, fair-skinned baby got her first sunburn today. In her three and a half years of life on this planet, I have managed to protect her delicate skin from the damaging assault of the sun's rays. The smell of summer in the Songing household is sun screen.
Hope went to a friend's house for the day. Today, which happened to be the hottest day Wisconsin has seen so far this year. Today, when Hope decided she would wear a strappy pink sundress. Today, when the girls spent most of the day playing outside in the sprinkler.
I instructed the friend caring for my daughter as soon as I walked in the door and dropped her off that Hope would need sunscreen while playing outside. I mentioned how sensitive her skin is.
And then this evening as I packed for an upcoming family visit I noticed Hope's arms we very... pink. I took a closer look and found bands of reddening skin on her arms, the back of her legs, and the back of her neck. My heart dropped.
I know it's just a sunburn. I know it's practically part and parcel of childhood. I know it is not serious and will be gone in a few days.
But to see that damage to my baby's skin, damage that has been avoided all this time, damage I wasn't personally there to protect her from; angered me, frustrated me.
And whom am I angry at? Not at Hope, who, up until today, did not even understand what a sunburn was. Not at my friend even, who did abide by my instructions to apply sunscreen to Hope. (Although obviously not thoroughly enough...!!!) Not at anyone really.
I'm just frustrated by the situation. I'm frustrated that tomorrow morning my little girl is going to wake up feeling like her arms and legs are hot, tender, and itchy and that I won't be able to take it away for her. And though I've prevented this situation all her life, I wasn't able to prevent it this time. I'm frustrated that she is hurt and I can't help her.
...And yet, I know that this is only the beginning. She is three years old. I have no idea the situations and problems that are going to arise over the coming years. The scraped knees, the sprained ankles, the fights with friends, the broken hearts... the complete unfairness of life.
As the years pass, Hope will face more and more hurts that I am not able to fix. Hurts much worse, and longer-lasting, than a sunburn. And as a mother, I want to wipe away her tears, and hold her close, and take the pain away. And I can't. I would take the sunburn myself if I could... but I can't. All I can do is comfort her and encourage her and try to ease the pain in the little ways that I am able. And I hope as she experiences the pains of life, that I can explain to her that this pain will pass, and life will go forward, and she has the opportunity to be better because of it.
Hope went to a friend's house for the day. Today, which happened to be the hottest day Wisconsin has seen so far this year. Today, when Hope decided she would wear a strappy pink sundress. Today, when the girls spent most of the day playing outside in the sprinkler.
I instructed the friend caring for my daughter as soon as I walked in the door and dropped her off that Hope would need sunscreen while playing outside. I mentioned how sensitive her skin is.
And then this evening as I packed for an upcoming family visit I noticed Hope's arms we very... pink. I took a closer look and found bands of reddening skin on her arms, the back of her legs, and the back of her neck. My heart dropped.
I know it's just a sunburn. I know it's practically part and parcel of childhood. I know it is not serious and will be gone in a few days.
But to see that damage to my baby's skin, damage that has been avoided all this time, damage I wasn't personally there to protect her from; angered me, frustrated me.
And whom am I angry at? Not at Hope, who, up until today, did not even understand what a sunburn was. Not at my friend even, who did abide by my instructions to apply sunscreen to Hope. (Although obviously not thoroughly enough...!!!) Not at anyone really.
I'm just frustrated by the situation. I'm frustrated that tomorrow morning my little girl is going to wake up feeling like her arms and legs are hot, tender, and itchy and that I won't be able to take it away for her. And though I've prevented this situation all her life, I wasn't able to prevent it this time. I'm frustrated that she is hurt and I can't help her.
...And yet, I know that this is only the beginning. She is three years old. I have no idea the situations and problems that are going to arise over the coming years. The scraped knees, the sprained ankles, the fights with friends, the broken hearts... the complete unfairness of life.
As the years pass, Hope will face more and more hurts that I am not able to fix. Hurts much worse, and longer-lasting, than a sunburn. And as a mother, I want to wipe away her tears, and hold her close, and take the pain away. And I can't. I would take the sunburn myself if I could... but I can't. All I can do is comfort her and encourage her and try to ease the pain in the little ways that I am able. And I hope as she experiences the pains of life, that I can explain to her that this pain will pass, and life will go forward, and she has the opportunity to be better because of it.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Moms Don't Have Time to Get Sick
I got a cold from my daughter on Sunday night. I thought, "No big deal, she just had a runny nose and cough. It only lasted two or three days. I'll just suck it up and pull through."
Wrong.
So far I've had a runny nose, itchy and watery eyes, an extremely sore throat, sinus congestion, and drainage from my nose and throat causing, finally, a cough. How did Hope make it look so easy?
On Monday I tried to rest and take it easy. We turned on cartoons for the whole morning and just sat around. I took a generic Claritin which, sadly, did absolutely nothing. However, I still had my chin up, I was sure Tuesday would be better!
I woke up Tuesday morning with a killer headache from stuffed sinuses and a piercingly sore throat, cancelled an appointment I had that morning but still pulled myself and kiddos out of the house for a meeting I had organized with some other mommies. At this point I'm now on Benadryl, so as I hung out with my friends and tried to keep my kids in check, I felt like my head was stuffed with cotton and I could fall down into a deep sleep at any moment.
By Tuesday afternoon, I grew tired of attempting to rest and recover. I realized- as I always do after more than one day of being sick- mommies don't have time to be sick!
And on another note- sorry to you working moms, this is just an aside, you honestly do have my utmost respect- this is espcially true for stay-at-home moms. Here's the deal, if you are a full-time working mom and have child care set up for your children, you just send your kids off to their normal care and go home and rest. Easy peasy! This doesn't work if you're a stay-at-home mom, you get sick and... you're still at work. It never leaves or gives you a break. The same tasks and routines that were there yesterday are still there today. Everyone still needs your help, and the ones who are shorter than waist high don't seem to care that much about your sore throat and runny nose.
So just like Clair Huxstable (on the episode when both her and Cliff got the flu at the same time), I have decided that I'm done being sick. Tonight my husband took the girls to church and left me at home all alone. I have two blissful hours of peace and quiet. And then? I'm done being sick. Sorry, body, but you have to suck it up now. Get back to work! Virus, we can meet again in say... seventeen years?
(For evidence that I truly do feel for sick moms and believe that we should use common sense and take care of ourselves, see How to Take Care of Your Kids When You Are Sick.
Wrong.
So far I've had a runny nose, itchy and watery eyes, an extremely sore throat, sinus congestion, and drainage from my nose and throat causing, finally, a cough. How did Hope make it look so easy?
On Monday I tried to rest and take it easy. We turned on cartoons for the whole morning and just sat around. I took a generic Claritin which, sadly, did absolutely nothing. However, I still had my chin up, I was sure Tuesday would be better!
I woke up Tuesday morning with a killer headache from stuffed sinuses and a piercingly sore throat, cancelled an appointment I had that morning but still pulled myself and kiddos out of the house for a meeting I had organized with some other mommies. At this point I'm now on Benadryl, so as I hung out with my friends and tried to keep my kids in check, I felt like my head was stuffed with cotton and I could fall down into a deep sleep at any moment.
By Tuesday afternoon, I grew tired of attempting to rest and recover. I realized- as I always do after more than one day of being sick- mommies don't have time to be sick!
And on another note- sorry to you working moms, this is just an aside, you honestly do have my utmost respect- this is espcially true for stay-at-home moms. Here's the deal, if you are a full-time working mom and have child care set up for your children, you just send your kids off to their normal care and go home and rest. Easy peasy! This doesn't work if you're a stay-at-home mom, you get sick and... you're still at work. It never leaves or gives you a break. The same tasks and routines that were there yesterday are still there today. Everyone still needs your help, and the ones who are shorter than waist high don't seem to care that much about your sore throat and runny nose.
So just like Clair Huxstable (on the episode when both her and Cliff got the flu at the same time), I have decided that I'm done being sick. Tonight my husband took the girls to church and left me at home all alone. I have two blissful hours of peace and quiet. And then? I'm done being sick. Sorry, body, but you have to suck it up now. Get back to work! Virus, we can meet again in say... seventeen years?
(For evidence that I truly do feel for sick moms and believe that we should use common sense and take care of ourselves, see How to Take Care of Your Kids When You Are Sick.
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