Early Saturday morning, shortly after 3 a.m., I heard Sam calling for me. I got up, retrieved him from his bed, and helped him sit down on the little potty. TJ followed us within a minute, muttered something about having to go potty too, used the big toilet (standing up, as he always does) then shuffled back off to bed.
Sam was sitting on the little potty observing his big brother. After TJ left, Sam commented, "If TJ pooped standing up, it would get all over the rug."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. I told Sam he was exactly right.
Who knew potty training would provide so many good blog posts?
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Privacy, please!
Around 2 a.m. this morning, I woke up to the sound of Sam frantically calling TJ's name. I got right out of bed and got to the boys' room by the time Sam said TJ's name for the third time. For some reason, TJ is the designated night prowler, and Sam wanted him to go and get me so that he could go potty. I told Sam next time to call my name, or come and get me himself. TJ was dead to the world and slept through all the yelling.
I helped a sleepy and anxious Sam get on the potty. He started rocking back and forth saying, "Mama, just sleep!" I told him I understood he was tired and that it wasn't always fun having to go potty in the middle of the night. Once again, he said, "Mama, just sleep!" I gave him a hug and told him he could go back to sleep as soon as he went potty. "No!" he replied. "I said, 'Just LEAVE!' " Oh. He wanted privacy. I stepped out of the bathroom and 30 seconds later he was done.
He pooped in his cloth trainer 3 times today, so we haven't gotten that part figured out yet. Oh well. We took the boys out to dinner, and he stayed dry and didn't need to use the potty while we were out. He's afraid of public bathrooms and had us bring my mom's potty along (hers is slightly bigger than our potty, so we've been using that). I was glad we didn't have to use that in the minivan.
He drank a lot of Sprite at dinner, so I had the brilliant idea to wake him up and put him on the potty a few minutes ago (it's just after 11 p.m.). Failure. He did not appreciate being woken up, and just sat on the potty and cried. He was unable to go. I put him back in bed. I'm sure he'll be getting me up around 2 a.m. again....
I helped a sleepy and anxious Sam get on the potty. He started rocking back and forth saying, "Mama, just sleep!" I told him I understood he was tired and that it wasn't always fun having to go potty in the middle of the night. Once again, he said, "Mama, just sleep!" I gave him a hug and told him he could go back to sleep as soon as he went potty. "No!" he replied. "I said, 'Just LEAVE!' " Oh. He wanted privacy. I stepped out of the bathroom and 30 seconds later he was done.
He pooped in his cloth trainer 3 times today, so we haven't gotten that part figured out yet. Oh well. We took the boys out to dinner, and he stayed dry and didn't need to use the potty while we were out. He's afraid of public bathrooms and had us bring my mom's potty along (hers is slightly bigger than our potty, so we've been using that). I was glad we didn't have to use that in the minivan.
He drank a lot of Sprite at dinner, so I had the brilliant idea to wake him up and put him on the potty a few minutes ago (it's just after 11 p.m.). Failure. He did not appreciate being woken up, and just sat on the potty and cried. He was unable to go. I put him back in bed. I'm sure he'll be getting me up around 2 a.m. again....
Thursday, April 22, 2010
No longer a saga...I think it's a potty conquest
Sam has been dry since Monday at nap. Not even a drop in his diaper or trainer. He is getting much better at going potty when we ask him to (like right before leaving for Cuddle-Up Time last night), and not dragging each episode out for hours on end.
Today, he pooped on the potty. And immediately told Grandma he wanted to call me at work. So, she helped him do so. He is so funny. He's proud of himself, but he also acts like it is no big deal. He has it all figured out now. End of story.
I should probably start working on Nolan, but I want to savor this moment for awhile!!
Today, he pooped on the potty. And immediately told Grandma he wanted to call me at work. So, she helped him do so. He is so funny. He's proud of himself, but he also acts like it is no big deal. He has it all figured out now. End of story.
I should probably start working on Nolan, but I want to savor this moment for awhile!!
Nolan's Longest Sentence So Far!
Yesterday, the boys had their usual random assortment for snack. Nolan had a bowl with a graham cracker, a few mini marshmallows, and a handful of M&Ms in it. He inhaled it (Nolan doesn't chew, he just breathes in his food), and returned to the kitchen.
"Mama, I need more M&M" he informed me. I cracked up. His only grammatical error was forgetting to make M&Ms plural. And he forgot to say please. But after I gave him more candy, he said, "Tank you!"
"Mama, I need more M&M" he informed me. I cracked up. His only grammatical error was forgetting to make M&Ms plural. And he forgot to say please. But after I gave him more candy, he said, "Tank you!"
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Potty Saga, Day 2
Well, it did go better today, but it started out early. Sam woke up TJ at 1 a.m., and TJ came and got me. Sam had to go potty. My first thought? "Nooooooo!" I pictured myself sitting on the bathroom floor for 3 hours with him. Well, tired Sam pees much faster than awake Sam. The whole procedure, including hand-washing, only took 10 minutes.
This morning was a bit more stressful. Sam (who stayed dry all night) told Bill at 7 a.m. that he had to go to the bathroom. He didn't actually go until 11:15. But we are getting there! He stayed dry all day and went to the bathroom a total of five times.
He's not ready to poop on the potty, and I am fine with that. He went a little in his diaper right before bedtime (I had him in a diaper for that very reason). He's so obsessive about things I was afraid he would constipate himself if he decided he wasn't going to go on the potty or in his diaper. We will deal with that obstacle later.
This morning was a bit more stressful. Sam (who stayed dry all night) told Bill at 7 a.m. that he had to go to the bathroom. He didn't actually go until 11:15. But we are getting there! He stayed dry all day and went to the bathroom a total of five times.
He's not ready to poop on the potty, and I am fine with that. He went a little in his diaper right before bedtime (I had him in a diaper for that very reason). He's so obsessive about things I was afraid he would constipate himself if he decided he wasn't going to go on the potty or in his diaper. We will deal with that obstacle later.
Monday, April 19, 2010
3 years, 8 months, 26 days
That is exactly how long it took for my son Samuel to start peeing on the potty. I suppose you could say today was a momentous day. But I am exhausted and I am sure my mom is too.
I worked today. Late this morning, my mom called and immediately put Sam on the phone. He told me he did something that would make me happy and that I loved him (yes, he told me that I loved him. I laughed. He is right of course). Eventually, he 'fessed up to having gone potty one time for Grandma. She said it was quite a battle. He stayed dry all night (which he often does) and she informed him that today was the day. She put him in underwear and kept putting him on the potty until he could not hold it anymore and finally went. She got him to go a second time this afternoon.
Tonight, I got him to go once. It took 3 hours. It was agonizing. We moved from the little potty to the big potty...forward facing, then backward facing (some kids feel more secure that way). We moved the potty to the kitchen so I could make dinner. We went back to the bathroom while Bill finished dinner. We ate at 7:00. Sam ate half of his dinner while sitting on the potty. He kept assuring me he did not have to go, so I would pull his pants up and 60 seconds later he would be doing the potty dance and pleading with me to put him back on the potty. Eventually, I needed a break and to get a few things accomplished so I called good old Mom and she sat with him for 45 minutes. Sam watched Backyardigans while sitting on the potty. Then...it was bedtime. I put Sam in his pajamas and put him in bed. Mom left. 5 minutes later, Sam comes running down the hall crying. He REALLY had to go and did not want to wet his diaper. I put him on the potty for the gazillionth time and he went. We were both so exhausted that there was no big celebration. Just a hug and I put him in bed where he promptly went to sleep.
I hope this goes more smoothly tomorrow. Sam clearly does not understand how little patience I possess. I keep picturing myself spending the entire day in the bathroom with him. I will definitely be assembling our meatloaf during nap time so that we actually eat during the dinner hour.
We will survive this. No one has ever died during potty training (parent or child)...have they??
I worked today. Late this morning, my mom called and immediately put Sam on the phone. He told me he did something that would make me happy and that I loved him (yes, he told me that I loved him. I laughed. He is right of course). Eventually, he 'fessed up to having gone potty one time for Grandma. She said it was quite a battle. He stayed dry all night (which he often does) and she informed him that today was the day. She put him in underwear and kept putting him on the potty until he could not hold it anymore and finally went. She got him to go a second time this afternoon.
Tonight, I got him to go once. It took 3 hours. It was agonizing. We moved from the little potty to the big potty...forward facing, then backward facing (some kids feel more secure that way). We moved the potty to the kitchen so I could make dinner. We went back to the bathroom while Bill finished dinner. We ate at 7:00. Sam ate half of his dinner while sitting on the potty. He kept assuring me he did not have to go, so I would pull his pants up and 60 seconds later he would be doing the potty dance and pleading with me to put him back on the potty. Eventually, I needed a break and to get a few things accomplished so I called good old Mom and she sat with him for 45 minutes. Sam watched Backyardigans while sitting on the potty. Then...it was bedtime. I put Sam in his pajamas and put him in bed. Mom left. 5 minutes later, Sam comes running down the hall crying. He REALLY had to go and did not want to wet his diaper. I put him on the potty for the gazillionth time and he went. We were both so exhausted that there was no big celebration. Just a hug and I put him in bed where he promptly went to sleep.
I hope this goes more smoothly tomorrow. Sam clearly does not understand how little patience I possess. I keep picturing myself spending the entire day in the bathroom with him. I will definitely be assembling our meatloaf during nap time so that we actually eat during the dinner hour.
We will survive this. No one has ever died during potty training (parent or child)...have they??
It gets more interesting...
Yesterday, I dropped Sam, pardon me..."Baby Kitty" off at Sunday School. When I picked him up after class, his two teachers were chuckling and wished me luck. Sam was holding his hands out and was carefully holding FOUR invisible kitties. He informed me two of them had names. Their names?
"Laipson" and "Shimaling". Seriously. They rode home in the cup holder next to his booster seat. Of course.
I am still deciding whether Sam is the weirdest kid I have ever met, the funniest kid I have ever met, or if he is an outright genius. Maybe he is all three.
"Laipson" and "Shimaling". Seriously. They rode home in the cup holder next to his booster seat. Of course.
I am still deciding whether Sam is the weirdest kid I have ever met, the funniest kid I have ever met, or if he is an outright genius. Maybe he is all three.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Sam's Alter Egos
Sam is quite a character. Lately, this means that he IS something else. In the past two weeks, Sam has transformed into:
Princess Leia
R2D2
C3PO
Toby the Cat
Joyce the Cat
A meteor
An airplane
A baby kitty
A flying baby kitty
Did I forget any? When Sam IS something else (right now he is a baby kitty), he will not answer to his name. I must call him a baby kitty. Mostly, it's really amusing, but when I am trying to tell him to do something, it gets awfully annoying to have to remember who or what I am talking to.
The baby kitty (Sam) stayed dry for over 5 hours on Wednesday. He wore underwear for half that time. Still not producing in toilet. I think he wants to see how far my patience will stretch.
Princess Leia
R2D2
C3PO
Toby the Cat
Joyce the Cat
A meteor
An airplane
A baby kitty
A flying baby kitty
Did I forget any? When Sam IS something else (right now he is a baby kitty), he will not answer to his name. I must call him a baby kitty. Mostly, it's really amusing, but when I am trying to tell him to do something, it gets awfully annoying to have to remember who or what I am talking to.
The baby kitty (Sam) stayed dry for over 5 hours on Wednesday. He wore underwear for half that time. Still not producing in toilet. I think he wants to see how far my patience will stretch.
Making Progress
Nolan has his two-year well child visit on Wednesday. At his one-year visit, he wasn't on the chart for height or weight. As of Wednesday, his stats were:
33 inches (14th percentile)
29 pounds (61st percentile)
So let's just say he's made up a lot more ground in the weight department than the height department. That boy is solid and he loves food! I'm hoping that having him play outside a lot this summer will help him slim down a bit. Otherwise, he's going to get difficult to lift and carry soon.
Nolan knows how old he is, he knows several colors, a few letters, and he likes to count ("One, Two, Three, Go!" is a favorite sentence). However, when the doctor asked him questions, he gave her blank stares. I guess he wants to hide his brilliance.
33 inches (14th percentile)
29 pounds (61st percentile)
So let's just say he's made up a lot more ground in the weight department than the height department. That boy is solid and he loves food! I'm hoping that having him play outside a lot this summer will help him slim down a bit. Otherwise, he's going to get difficult to lift and carry soon.
Nolan knows how old he is, he knows several colors, a few letters, and he likes to count ("One, Two, Three, Go!" is a favorite sentence). However, when the doctor asked him questions, he gave her blank stares. I guess he wants to hide his brilliance.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Easter 2010
Easter egg hunt in Coopersville:
(TJ is in the green jacket and green tee-shirt toward the right of group.)
Dying Easter eggs:
(Sam tasted a spoonful of the vinegar and is now explaining to his father that it doesn't taste very good)
Easter Sunday:
(TJ is in the green jacket and green tee-shirt toward the right of group.)
Dying Easter eggs:
(Sam tasted a spoonful of the vinegar and is now explaining to his father that it doesn't taste very good)
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Little Bug's Birthday
Nolan is my little bug. He may be approaching 30 pounds now, but he will always be my little bug.
He turned two on April 1st. We spent a lot of time talking about it ahead of time, to help him get excited.His birthday was a beautiful day. Lots of sun, and the temperature was in the low 80s. Not sure when that will happen again! Nolan got lots of play clothes, and assortment of new trucks (there is no such thing as too many trucks, in Nolan's opinion!), and a big wheel bike. He's too short to reach the peddles, but he has already figured out how to scoot up and down the driveway.
Friday, April 9, 2010
What?!
Last week, Sam was playing outside, and I was trying to convince him to come in. He is still obsessed with sprinklers and has spent a lot of time wandering the yard, checking them out. A few broke over the winter, and he has made sure his father is aware of this dilemma.
As I was calling to Sam, I noticed he was bent over the grass by the edge of the driveway. I thought he was monkeying with another sprinkler head. He finally stood up and walked towards me. As he headed my way he said, "It's okay, Mom. The snake went back down in the hole."
Oh heavens. I hate snakes. I have told him a dozen times since then NOT to mess with snakes in our yard, but to let me know when he finds them. I will move them out to the weeds with a shovel. I know they are just garter snakes, but they DO bite!
And, in case any of you hears a comment from TJ, please let me assure you that he is not a racist. TJ is on a Star Wars kick. If he isn't playing our Lego Star Wars Wii Game (which is a lot of fun to watch him do), he's watching one of the Star Wars movies, reading a Star Wars book, or playing pretend Star Wars with Sam (who is either R2D2 or C3P0, depending on his mood). The problem? TJ is fascinated by Darth Vader. But he can't remember his name. So he calls him "Black Guy". I keep correcting him, but he hasn't stopped.
Sam is really taking this robot thing to a new level. He now talks with his hands, just like C3Po. He also speaks with beeps and hums, like R2D2. He expects me to know what he's saying. Life is never dull around here. I keep trying to convince him that robots don't wear diapers, but he isn't buying that theory yet.
As I was calling to Sam, I noticed he was bent over the grass by the edge of the driveway. I thought he was monkeying with another sprinkler head. He finally stood up and walked towards me. As he headed my way he said, "It's okay, Mom. The snake went back down in the hole."
Oh heavens. I hate snakes. I have told him a dozen times since then NOT to mess with snakes in our yard, but to let me know when he finds them. I will move them out to the weeds with a shovel. I know they are just garter snakes, but they DO bite!
And, in case any of you hears a comment from TJ, please let me assure you that he is not a racist. TJ is on a Star Wars kick. If he isn't playing our Lego Star Wars Wii Game (which is a lot of fun to watch him do), he's watching one of the Star Wars movies, reading a Star Wars book, or playing pretend Star Wars with Sam (who is either R2D2 or C3P0, depending on his mood). The problem? TJ is fascinated by Darth Vader. But he can't remember his name. So he calls him "Black Guy". I keep correcting him, but he hasn't stopped.
Sam is really taking this robot thing to a new level. He now talks with his hands, just like C3Po. He also speaks with beeps and hums, like R2D2. He expects me to know what he's saying. Life is never dull around here. I keep trying to convince him that robots don't wear diapers, but he isn't buying that theory yet.
Sam's breathing treatment
I know, I know. I've been slacking off on the blog lately. I've been busy, and I need to upload some pictures, so that makes me procrastinate...
Bill was out of town on very short notice Monday-Wednesday of this week. It was spring break, it was cold (cuz it's Michigan!), we were dog-sitting, and I came down with a cold. Good times. All 3 boys successfully caught the cold from me. Tuesday night, I put the boys in bed with no problems. They all seemed fairly healthy at that point. Around 10:45, I let Puka outside one last time, then put her in her kennel for the night. As I headed into my bedroom, I thought I heard her whining. I paused, because I wanted to make sure she wasn't going to start barking. Then I realized what I heard wasn't the dog, but it was coming from Sam and TJ's room. The noise quickly got louder.
Sam was having some sort of breathing episode. The healthy child who had gone to sleep two hours earlier, was now wheezing every time he inhaled and coughing a horrible, seal-sounding bark with each exhale. He woke up in sheer panic and burst into tears. A crying child who can't breathe is even worse than a calm child who can't breathe. He kept choking out, "Pound me on the back, Mama! I can't breathe!" I scooped him and brought him onto my bed so he wouldn't wake up TJ. I kept trying to get him to calm down so that I could leave him long enough to grab his nebulizer. I cannot tell you how grateful I was to have that nebulizer. We certainly would have been heading for the Emergency Room if it weren't for that little device.
I finally got Sam to calm down long enough for me to grab and assemble the nebulizer. Sam held that thing tightly over his mouth and breathed in every drop of albuterol. I was still feeling slightly panicky, so I called my mom, just to review his symptoms with her. At that point, I was still trying to determine if he had croup, or if this was an asthma attack, or if this was just Sam catching a cold. By the time he finished the treatment, Sam was calm. I gave him a dose of the strongest cough medicine we have, put Vicks on his chest, and then reassured him that the medicine would help him sleep. Sam's response? "I KNOW that, Mom". At that point, I smiled. My Sam was back.
I tucked him in bed and fussed around, propping him up with extra pillows. Sam's comment? "Umm...MOM! You can GO now!" Yes Sir! He went back to sleep almost immediately while I dug out a humidifier (which I had just cleaned and put away for the summer). I wasn't taking any chances.
Wednesday he seemed okay, Thursday he was wheezing like crazy. That child does not have healthy lungs. I can handle injuries, vomit, you name it. But when he can't breathe, it scares me. I told Bill not to be gone the next time that happens. No...I'm tough. I can handle it! (at least, that's what I am telling myself)
Bill was out of town on very short notice Monday-Wednesday of this week. It was spring break, it was cold (cuz it's Michigan!), we were dog-sitting, and I came down with a cold. Good times. All 3 boys successfully caught the cold from me. Tuesday night, I put the boys in bed with no problems. They all seemed fairly healthy at that point. Around 10:45, I let Puka outside one last time, then put her in her kennel for the night. As I headed into my bedroom, I thought I heard her whining. I paused, because I wanted to make sure she wasn't going to start barking. Then I realized what I heard wasn't the dog, but it was coming from Sam and TJ's room. The noise quickly got louder.
Sam was having some sort of breathing episode. The healthy child who had gone to sleep two hours earlier, was now wheezing every time he inhaled and coughing a horrible, seal-sounding bark with each exhale. He woke up in sheer panic and burst into tears. A crying child who can't breathe is even worse than a calm child who can't breathe. He kept choking out, "Pound me on the back, Mama! I can't breathe!" I scooped him and brought him onto my bed so he wouldn't wake up TJ. I kept trying to get him to calm down so that I could leave him long enough to grab his nebulizer. I cannot tell you how grateful I was to have that nebulizer. We certainly would have been heading for the Emergency Room if it weren't for that little device.
I finally got Sam to calm down long enough for me to grab and assemble the nebulizer. Sam held that thing tightly over his mouth and breathed in every drop of albuterol. I was still feeling slightly panicky, so I called my mom, just to review his symptoms with her. At that point, I was still trying to determine if he had croup, or if this was an asthma attack, or if this was just Sam catching a cold. By the time he finished the treatment, Sam was calm. I gave him a dose of the strongest cough medicine we have, put Vicks on his chest, and then reassured him that the medicine would help him sleep. Sam's response? "I KNOW that, Mom". At that point, I smiled. My Sam was back.
I tucked him in bed and fussed around, propping him up with extra pillows. Sam's comment? "Umm...MOM! You can GO now!" Yes Sir! He went back to sleep almost immediately while I dug out a humidifier (which I had just cleaned and put away for the summer). I wasn't taking any chances.
Wednesday he seemed okay, Thursday he was wheezing like crazy. That child does not have healthy lungs. I can handle injuries, vomit, you name it. But when he can't breathe, it scares me. I told Bill not to be gone the next time that happens. No...I'm tough. I can handle it! (at least, that's what I am telling myself)
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