May 07 2008

It’s Potty Time…

We’ve been sidling toward toilet training with Cole, somewhat as one would if one was trying to collar a potentially rabid dog. We are nervous about making too big a deal about it and calling attention to our efforts but, at the same time, it needs to happen. I’m looking forward to the days of no more diapers, though I realize the days of expecting no accidents and competent and thorough ass wiping are still years hence.

To this end, we’ve been pushing our luck and letting him be in “big-boy” underpants for a time before bed. So far, we’ve had a couple of pee accidents and one poo- no more than we really expected. The last couple of times he’s stayed dry the whole time, which I don’t know if I should attribute to his greater awareness or dehydration (he’s not REALLY dehydrated, just sometimes doesn’t drink that much in the evening).

On the suggestion of our daycare provider, we have not purchased a potty, and instead invite Cole to sit on the normal toilet (her reasoning is that they won’t get a potty anywhere but at home, so they should get used to a normal toilet as soon as possible, which is logical, I suppose). The problem with this is that Cole is totally uncomfortable on the toilet, and has yet to actually pee or poop while there. Ever. This leaves me wandering around after him in the house, watching for signs that he may have to go and regularly feeling the front of his undies to check for pee. Such fun! Or… not.

So tell me- in your experience, do kids figure it out eventually (like, before kindergarten?) or should we break down and buy a damn potty already? Any tips?

May 07 2008

Of COURSE…

…You need to see the shoes!!

May 07 2008

Momma Gonna Smack You Up

We have a VERY firm policy of not hitting/spanking Cole. Ever. John and I were both spanked as children and we feel that it did nothing to make us better behaved, and everything to make us feel like hitting is a way to solve problems. We both had trouble with fighting as kids (though only when provoked), and I wonder if it had anything to do with the hitting we saw demonstrated at home. The ONLY time I see it as an acceptable measure is if the child’s actions would have led to serious harm coming to themselves or to another. Only then it is a logical consequence.

But yesterday… ooohh boy, yesterday tried my resolve.

Cole has a supernumerary tooth, which I believe I’ve mentioned in the past. Because of this, we have to take him to a special pediatric dentist. However, because we also live in the middle of Senior Citizen/Nowheresville, we have to travel over an hour to get to his dentist. Which sucks. As if having to pay for a special dentist wasn’t enough, I also have to take half a day off work to go…

Anyway.

We had to leave before Cole’s normal lunch (breaking routine), and, though I can vouch for the fact that his bean/cheese/rice burrito was especially delicious, he was having just about none of it, instead insisting to me every 5 seconds that he MUST have apple juice and NOW please. So, no lunch was ingested – at least, not enough to make a difference.

So he slept on the way down, had his juice (SUGAR!!), and was a precious doll for the Dentist. He even made it through a full cleaning, which shocked the hell out of the Technician. He collected his toy and sticker prizes and we went on our merry way.

And then I had the GALL to go into a store to look at shoes.

He was happy enough at first, trying on all the ladies’ shoes (too funny to watch him trying to walk in open-back heels with the plastic security tie still connecting them), but when he wouldn’t hold my hand or stay next to me in the line to pay, the shit hit. And by ‘shit’ I mean Cole.

He screamed and screeched in my arms, first hitting and kicking me, then head-butting me when I pinned his arms. There was no way to put him in time out, there was no way I could just walk away. I had to hold him, pinned and pissed, until I completed my transaction and could walk out. And I wanted, at that moment, to slap him back, just to show him how it felt.

But I didn’t, and he had calmed down by the time we got to the car. We had a chat about his horrible behavior and we went on with our day, which turned out pretty nicely afterall. And I felt better because all I had to endure was the embarrassment of having “that toddler” for a little while in front of people I don’t know and will probably never see again, instead of the crushing guilt I would have felt for hitting him.

And it was worth it, because I also came away with a pair of bright red, patent, slingback, wedge-heel Kenneth Cole heels. And shiny red shoes make everything a little better.