I was wandering around the house picking up things and returning them to their proper place, gathering up laundry, and generally just tidying things up when I realized my son was following me around.
"What are you doing, Cory?" I asked.
"I'm your shadow. What are you doing, Mommy?" How cute, right?
"I'm cleaning up our messy house."
"Can't you make time?" He asked.
"Make time for what?"
"Make time for me!"
Oh geez, the GUILT! I have to admit, I sometimes get too wrapped up in what I'm doing and find that I have unintentionally ignored my kids. I'm very sensitive about this because it's a characteristic of mine that I'm ashamed of and trying to overcome. So, how do I overcome this?
I don't know.
Honestly, since that day, my shadow has become more apparent. Now my son insists he be in the same room with me at all times. In fact, he has to be holding my arm, hand, or sitting in my lap.
Isn't it terrible to be so loved?!
Sometimes... YES!
It really wears on me. I thought it might help if I spent at least 10 minutes per hour playing with him. It's the longest ten minutes ever, and he gets annoyed when his brother tries to join in. I admit I'm not very creative when it comes to playing dinosaurs and cars, so I find myself going a little nuts. He likes doing crafts, so we do one of those every day.
Anyway, I have to say, this attachment thing is getting really crazy. He's four years old, so I would think he wouldn't want anything to do with me. What do you do when your child freaks out if you use the bathroom? Follows you around so much you trip over him? Throws a tantrum when you leave him with his dad?
I left to get my hair done, and when I returned, there was my son on the driveway crying and shouting, "You were supposed to play with me!"
Oh, the GUILT!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Potty Training Woes
It has been two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS devoted to nothing but potty training my two boys! I was tired, frustrated, annoyed, disgusted, and throwing my hands in the air!
In venting my frustrations, a friend offered me a book about potty training your child in one day.
Yeah Right.
Well, I thought it might have some good advice anyway, and I was right.
Yesterday morning, I woke up bright and early, telling myself I would not lose my temper at all that day, that I would devote my whole day to my kids. I would neglect my duties as a wife and homemaker, to be 100% devoted to potty training.
I decorated the bathroom with balloons and streamers. I made special charts with a picture of Chuck-E-Cheese on them. I made a "Super Hero Drink" (1/3 apple juice, 1/3 water, 1/3 sparkling cider), dressed them in their super hero pajama tops (no pants today), and we had a party.
It did not go well the first couple of hours.
Even though the kids were excited about the party and the new charts (I have tried charts before), they still had a lot of accidents.
I set the timer on my stove for 30 minutes, and took them without fail every 30 minutes. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that 30 minutes was too long a time between visits. I was especially discouraged when they both pooped in their underwear in the first hour. I was ready to just give up for the day because my boys normally only poop once a day--but at very unpredictable times.
I decided to stay at it, however, because of the "Super Hero Drink". I don't usually let my boys drink much juice because 1-Cory used to be addicted to juice and that was all I could get him to drink AND eat, and 2- too much gives them diarrhea.
The second reason is why I decided to stick to it.
I knew I was taking a risk dressing them only in underwear, knowing that they could be having bouts of diarrhea all day, but if this was the only to teach them to poop in the potty, I was going to do it.
After a couple of hours of taking them every 30 minutes, and cleaning up too many accidents, I started setting the timer for every 10 minutes.
At about 3:00 in the afternoon, I was ready to sit in the puddle of their poop and cry myself to death.
My four-year-old called to me while I was helping my two-year-old, and said, "Mommy, there's poop running down my legs!"
I ran to see what had happened, and immediately wished I hadn't. It was all I could do not to reach my swearing quota for my lifetime. There was a giant puddle of poop underneath him, and a lovely little trail all the down the hall and down the stairs.
After wiping him down, I put them both in the tub to play for a while. Meanwhile, I managed to clean up the poop and run some laundry and get some dinner in the oven. After the bath, I got them back in their underwear and attempted to get them on the potty again. It was while I had my two year old on the potty that I saw my four year old grab his stomach in panic.
I immediately lifted him off the ground and ran to the other bathroom, where he pooped in the potty, not once, but four times!!!
WAHOO!!!
I made such a big deal about it, we called Daddy at work, we called Grandma, we had a parade, he got TWO stickers on his chart, and he was so proud of himself.
The boys stayed dry for the rest of the evening until bedtime when I tucked them in with pull-ups on.
I stayed up until 2AM finishing the laundry, cleaning the floors, and prepping for the next day.
Today, all I have to say is:
I am reading this entry at their weddings. They owe me BIG time for this.
I haven't showered in three days, I am running on little sleep, the fumes from all the cleaners have given me a headache, my back is killing me from carrying unwilling boys to the bathroom, and my hands are raw from all the washing.
No one is motivated anymore, but I keep setting that timer, handing out praise, swallowing my rage, giving out stickers, and hoping for the day I don't have to do this anymore.
Thank goodness it's the weekend. Now the husband gets to get in on the "party". Bwa ha ha ha.
In venting my frustrations, a friend offered me a book about potty training your child in one day.
Yeah Right.
Well, I thought it might have some good advice anyway, and I was right.
Yesterday morning, I woke up bright and early, telling myself I would not lose my temper at all that day, that I would devote my whole day to my kids. I would neglect my duties as a wife and homemaker, to be 100% devoted to potty training.
I decorated the bathroom with balloons and streamers. I made special charts with a picture of Chuck-E-Cheese on them. I made a "Super Hero Drink" (1/3 apple juice, 1/3 water, 1/3 sparkling cider), dressed them in their super hero pajama tops (no pants today), and we had a party.
It did not go well the first couple of hours.
Even though the kids were excited about the party and the new charts (I have tried charts before), they still had a lot of accidents.
I set the timer on my stove for 30 minutes, and took them without fail every 30 minutes. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that 30 minutes was too long a time between visits. I was especially discouraged when they both pooped in their underwear in the first hour. I was ready to just give up for the day because my boys normally only poop once a day--but at very unpredictable times.
I decided to stay at it, however, because of the "Super Hero Drink". I don't usually let my boys drink much juice because 1-Cory used to be addicted to juice and that was all I could get him to drink AND eat, and 2- too much gives them diarrhea.
The second reason is why I decided to stick to it.
I knew I was taking a risk dressing them only in underwear, knowing that they could be having bouts of diarrhea all day, but if this was the only to teach them to poop in the potty, I was going to do it.
After a couple of hours of taking them every 30 minutes, and cleaning up too many accidents, I started setting the timer for every 10 minutes.
At about 3:00 in the afternoon, I was ready to sit in the puddle of their poop and cry myself to death.
My four-year-old called to me while I was helping my two-year-old, and said, "Mommy, there's poop running down my legs!"
I ran to see what had happened, and immediately wished I hadn't. It was all I could do not to reach my swearing quota for my lifetime. There was a giant puddle of poop underneath him, and a lovely little trail all the down the hall and down the stairs.
After wiping him down, I put them both in the tub to play for a while. Meanwhile, I managed to clean up the poop and run some laundry and get some dinner in the oven. After the bath, I got them back in their underwear and attempted to get them on the potty again. It was while I had my two year old on the potty that I saw my four year old grab his stomach in panic.
I immediately lifted him off the ground and ran to the other bathroom, where he pooped in the potty, not once, but four times!!!
WAHOO!!!
I made such a big deal about it, we called Daddy at work, we called Grandma, we had a parade, he got TWO stickers on his chart, and he was so proud of himself.
The boys stayed dry for the rest of the evening until bedtime when I tucked them in with pull-ups on.
I stayed up until 2AM finishing the laundry, cleaning the floors, and prepping for the next day.
Today, all I have to say is:
I am reading this entry at their weddings. They owe me BIG time for this.
I haven't showered in three days, I am running on little sleep, the fumes from all the cleaners have given me a headache, my back is killing me from carrying unwilling boys to the bathroom, and my hands are raw from all the washing.
No one is motivated anymore, but I keep setting that timer, handing out praise, swallowing my rage, giving out stickers, and hoping for the day I don't have to do this anymore.
Thank goodness it's the weekend. Now the husband gets to get in on the "party". Bwa ha ha ha.
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