By no means do I feel like this means we have reached the finish line. We have definitely not. Our adventure with “3-Day Potty Training” seems to be turning into “3-Day x 2 x 2 (?) Days of Potty Training” and that’s being optimistic – let’s keep hoping in “days” and not “weeks” or “months”!
So today felt like we were treading backwards up until about 6:30 PM. Throughout a majority of the day, we were dealing with hefty accidents (large puddles) and running her over to the toilet only for her to quickly say “all done” with nothing to come from it. On the one hand, she was going about 4 hours between accidents, which told me she was holding her bladder somewhat, but on the other hand, we weren’t communicating effectively with one another.
I started to really think this Lora Jensen is bonkers despite her track record with her 8 successfully trained children. Then something changed.
Today has been a bit less traumatizing. I write that with a big headache (as I wait for the Excedrin to kick in), since today I’ve been holding my own pee and forgetting about hydrating myself, haha. How appropriate!
The method doesn’t change from Day 1 to Day 2. Same ol’ same ol’. Don’t leave the house, don’t ask “do you need to go potty?” (though we are guilty of throwing this phrase in on accident, a couple times), offer rewards for successful potty visits, keep a close eye on your child, keep them busy right next to you, and slather on a good healthy heaping of positivity, praise, and love. Continue reading
20-30 pairs of Minnie Mouse and Disney’s Frozen underwear. Check.
Moist (FLUSHABLE) wipes for post-potty bottom cleaning. Check.
Potty chair AND mini potty seat. Check. (chair for the car, mini seat for the house)
Rewards chart for stickers as well as mini chocolate candies for going in the potty. Check.
Fluids fluids fluids. Check.
Fibrous foods (pears, other fruit, veggies, beans, brown rice). Check. (I am not condoning Metamucil or other like-supplements for your child)
Plan to stay indoors and at home for three consecutive days. Check.
Crossing your fingers that your toddler will pee her entire bladder’s worth in the tub tonight so she doesn’t pee in the bed. Desperate check. Check check check. Please please please (yeah right, wishful thinking)
After the last couple of weeks, it’s nice to be home.
After that one afternoon in daycare, Jia and I jetted off to Charleston SC for my brother’s wedding. Little did I know that Jia was on the edge of her sanity, scared and afraid I would leave her at any turn. We arrived in SC to my mom greeting us at the baggage claim/terminal exit. I got her out of her car seat, hoping she would run over to my mom. She just stayed with me and buried her head in my legs, but I figured that was a normal shy response. No biggie. Then, when mom picked her up, she would start whimpering “Mommy, mommy??” but as long as she was close by me, she would tolerate being distracted by mom. This changed when we walked outside with our luggage to see my dad waiting for us. The minute she saw dad, she started to worry; started to cry. I installed her car seat into their back seat as she wailed and wailed. We kept reassuring her that I was coming with her, but she couldn’t hear me through her tears. I picked her up and placed her in the car seat and she threw up all over herself. This was a first. Continue reading
Gabe manages to spread his food everywhere. Notice the lack of rice on his face.
Greetings from Leavenworth, WA, for those of you keeping track of our whereabouts on your Rand McNally US Atlas and/or Google Map. It’s a quaint, German-themed touristy town about two-ish hours East of Seattle, nestled in a small valley in the Cascades. It’s gorgeous and warm (highs in the 90s-100s). We’re at another theater-based retreat, on the grounds of the lovely Icicle Creek Center for the Arts. Unfortunately, I have little or no babysitting help out here, so I am the de facto parent all day. And this week Gabe has made some spectacular developmental leaps—mostly in the psychological sphere.
And by “psychological sphere,” I mean he’s either been deliberately sabotaging my efforts to keep things somewhat clean/orderly or he’s really hitting his stride as a toddler. I think, based on the smirk and twinkle in his eyes and the cackling laugh, it’s the former and not the ladder. Also, I’m basing this on the fact that he’s now got some opinions and is being “difficult” at times, generally about what he wants to eat and when. The answer to this week’s question What does Gabe want to eat? is: berries. Of only the blue-, straw-, or rasp- varieties. And everything else might as well be poison or a toy. In any case, these two facts point to what I’m fairly sure is a growing craftiness of the practical joke variety—which I would normally wholeheartedly endorse. But it’s been a long week and it’s only Friday. How long of a week?
Here’s an incomplete list of Gabe’s exploits in the last 24-hours, complete with attempted silver linings:
Gabe enjoying some fresh-picked, Maine raspberries.
We wrapped up a week at the Jenny’s parent’s house, sadly departing our lovely lakeside retreat in Maine. Which is all to say, we’re on the road again, this time to NYC and then Seattle for almost two weeks. But the time in Maine was relaxing, as Gabe’s schedule was split between three adults (a great ratio for childcare), and I reflected a bit on my time being the primary parent.
One of the best parts about being the primary parent is that you get to witness, and sometime be the agent of, the small changes in your child’s behaviors and actions. They might start using a spoon as a tool (like, to eat) instead a toy (like, a yogurt catapult). Or maybe they learn to close a door or can identify their head (shoulders, knees, and/or toes).
And for some reason, I really love these small moments. I find them precious. And I mean “precious” in the literal meaning, “of great value,” not like how some creepy adults say it, He’s just so precious!, with its Gollem-like undertone of I’m-going-to-steal-your-baby-now. In any case, these small moments are the most special to me because they’re all around and constantly happening with young kids, if you keep your eyes open. The problem is that they’re so fleeting and near impossible to grasp and hold on to in any meaningful way.
This week marks the first week of ten weeks of travel, as we’re now on the road in Philadelphia. It also marks the first week of mostly primary parenting. I say “mostly” because my wife will still be helping out a ton, as will her parents for about a week, and of course the legions of babysitters across the land that will hang out with him. But I’ll be the primary, as Jenny is working on a bunch of really cool projects both on the phone with her agents and directors, and on the ground.
Speaking of which, we just found out that we’ll be covering a new piece of ground, as she was selected for another development project, this one in Chicago. The only time available to do it was the two weeks between our time in Waterford, CT and Seattle, WA—which is exactly where it fits! So now we’ll be doing four playwriting development series in four states (but with only one toddler, thank god). Holy logistics, Batman.