6.07.2013

Potty Training 103

“It's been said that adults spend the first two years of their children's lives trying to make them walk and talk, and the next sixteen years trying to get them to sit down and shut up.
It's the same way with potty training: Most adults spend the first few years of a child's life cheerfully discussing pee and poopies, and how important it is to learn to put your pee-pee and poo-poo in the potty like big people do.
But once children have mastered the art of toilet training, they are immeadiately forbidden to ever talk about poop, pee, toilets and other bathroom-related subjects again. Such things are now considered rude and vulgar, and are no longer rewarded with praise and cookies and juice boxes.
One day you're a superstar because you pooped in the toilet like a big boy, and the next day you're sitting in the principal's office because you said the word "poopy" in American History class (which, if you ask me, is the perfect place to say that word).”
― Dav Pilkey, Captain Underpants and the Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People



mmhmmm....I did totally take this pic...you know you would want to.


I'm not quite sure what it is with my boys and learning to use the toilet.
Kendall was like, 'lets get this party started!'
This summer the beast will learn to use the potty. He honestly has no interest in this. But he is 3. And sometimes with the male species you just have to make them do it.

With my offspring potty training occurs with some good old fashioned bribery. I have no shame in it.
It's quite simple you get one awesome thing that they want within budget of course. We aren't talking a trip to Disney because you can piss in the pot.

This can take some time to figure out what the ultimate thing might be because they are very flighty. One day it might be Legos. One day it might be a hockey net. The next it will be superheroes. So you really have to hone in on what it might be that has them just salivating to get their hands on. Then you get that item, you show it to them, and then like an awesome mom, you sit it right on top of the fridge out of reach completely.

I have narrowed this down for Jake to be a Razor Scooter. He is still cruising around on his three wheeled scooter, but every chance he gets he swipes one of his siblings and takes off with someone chasing after him. The kids in the hood are all about the scooters this summer.  There is always a pile of them on my front lawn which apparently is their parking garage. I don't know how they tell whose is who's because there isn't much of a color selection, but at the end of the day, they do. You might even catch me racing them down the street. I take no responsibilities for injuries acquired while trying to kick my butt. It's balls to the wall, every man for himself. Listen, a mama has to get her highs somewhere.

Candy treats are restricted while potty training. No one in this house gets any sort of candy until the potty trainee uses the potty. We then we all get a piece and make the biggest deal over a miniature Reese's cup or lollipop like we are getting the best thing in the entire world handed to us just because a certain someone uses the potty.

We take no prisoners here.

I have attempted to take him undies shopping a few times. He has absolutely zero interest. I'm like super excited in the Target aisle, 'Jake!!!!!!! Look these have the Wolverine on them, his whole face on the back!!!! These are so awesome!!!' He looks at me like everyone else in the aisle in that moment like, 'Seriously Lady, its underwear.'

A kid is ready for potty training when they stop mid sentence, let out a sigh with a look of relief on their face and say, 'I just peed,' and that's all there is to it. So I will get excited all over the Target underwear aisle and peace meal pieces of candy. The scooter will be placed on the fridge and the sticker chart will go right under it...we don't get that scooter until all we do is pee in the pot during waking hours and deuce in the toilet 5 times in a row with no accidents, just skid marks.

Mama don't play.

Watch out for puddles on the hardwood when you come to visit...puddles and flip flops can be killers. You've been warned.

I'm thinking about potty training the cat too. Sister can really mess up a litter box in her old age. Something tells me, the cat might win this race.






6.05.2013

Hen's Night

I am not a party animal by any means.
O.k. well perhaps I used to be at one point in time. I will admit that there were many times that the kitchen or bathroom tile felt just absolutely heavenly to my then nauseous and room spinning self, from too many lemon drops or way back in the day zimas with jolly ranchers placed in the bottle. Oh. It still makes my stomach churn when I think of those. I think I need to go and find some nice cold tile for a few minutes...be back.

I really find it astonishing that I wasn't concerned in the slightest about the sanitary wrongness of these actions. There are moments I am so not proud of that I would look at my friend who was lying inches from me vowing the same things as I, to never ever drink that much again, and then thanking the nice cold floor for being so healing. The whole thing just ridiculous. Was Dave Matthews really that awesome that we needed to see him 23 billion times in the same place or was that just the haze? The jury is still out.

I will admit, many fun times. None of which my daughter will be having.
Now, there is just no way I would choose to partake in times like these on purpose.
Beyond all the unnecessariness of it, have you woken up with a hang over with children?
Let me just tell you, HERE is the beginning of the day and then end of the day is like in North Dakota and you have to get there while carrying three children on your back, walking, barefoot, with one of them banging Thors Hammer into your head. This is what a hangover feels like now. You cannot just sleep the day away flat out on your back, drool coming out the corner of your mouth. Responsibilities people!!!

So when it comes to Bachelorette Parties you can imagine that all things that a Bachelorette Party were when you are in your mid twenties, kind of becomes a little unnecessary when you get into your thirties. I know. I am fuddy duddy. But going to see male dancers is never as it was in the movie, Magic Mike. It just isn't, and that's why its the movies. POP!! And there, I burst your bubble. I readily admit if you told me that I was going to a party and Channing Tatum was going to be dancing and then, although not in the movie, Ryan Gosling was going to make a special appearance, I could be persuaded to change my mind. But this is not the case and it never will be. I live near the Jersey Shore. This should be enough said.

My baby, baby sister is getting married in just under two weeks. The man she is bringing into the family is probably the best thing around. He's a great cook and a great personal trainer, and you can't ask for more then that. Ok, ok, he does have some pretty awesome qualities as well. You should totally meet him. Ask him to get you in shape and also cook you some pasta. Really, if I knew he was cooking for me at the finish line of some triathlon he trained me for, I would totally do it. Now I'm hungry.


In the wedding party,  there is a wide range of lady status' all from the same family. One is pregnant, one isn't 21 yet and certainly does not drink yet...in college...6 hours away from home...come on, one had 3 children to return to, care for, and over all function for,  and two are probably age appropriate for an over the top bachelorette shin dig. So meeting in the middle was probably pretty necessary.

So my other baby sister, the preggo, took the reigns, and planned the party weekend out of her homebase in Delaware. We had some spa treating in her living room, because why go out when you can drink wine and eat teenie weenies at home while someone else is soaking your feet? Not only that, it was 50 million degrees outside. At one point my mom and aunt decided to take a walk and were back within 10 minutes; heat, wine drinking, and brisk walks are not a good combination, in case you were wondering, cause they apparently were.


So we lazed the afternoon away doing this and answering prompted questions surrounding bachelorette ideas...like worst date ever...thing you noticed first about your future fiance. She totally said his butt, and come on, he totally has to sell his product...who would work out with a trainer who doesn't have a good bum?


We then got all gussied up for a dinner out on the town. My sister had chosen a tapas themed restaurant that I would totally recommend you hit up on your next jaunt to Wilmington, Delaware called Orillias. As previously mentioned, I do not partake in any excess drinking on purpose. I am a little bit strange, in that if the taste of the alcohol is stronger then the taste of the rest of the stuff in the beverage then I am out. So here is where Sangria might come into play. O.k. maybe it did come into play and by the end of the dinner my cousin sitting next to me were totally picking the fruit out of our empty glasses to eat with our fingers. We are that classy, but fruit that has been soaking in that yummy beverage is soooo good after downing like 8 glasses...dude, some of that food was spicy!
 


After plate upon plate upon plate of food, and a conversation in the bathroom about liking subway tile, but not before a brief inspection of teeth by other resident fruit eater of her sister and my other cousin, we headed back to my sisters house for some desserts and go to Bachelorette Party games. By the way...if you are in need of a Penis Pinata for any event, please let me know, my sister ordered one that did not come in time for the party. You know for a Bris, a gender reveal party, something like that. This will go totally fast, get your bid in.


I totally do not remember falling asleep. I am however keenly aware of the headached and dry mouth I had the next morning all while my eye makeup was smeared down my face. Again, classy.


We had some yummy breakfast and a vat of coffee each, and they headed out for yoga. I skipped this part of the event to get home to my children...I totally had a big day ahead of me, being North Dakota is so very far away.



Oh and I am totally not getting paid for this product advertisement. However, after a night of drinking, some spanish food, and 64 ounces of strong coffee with cream you might feel a little rumble. Sticking with the classy theme, I recommend THIS product to have by your commode. No joke. Works fantastically. If you live with a man, it might just be a necessity. Just sayin.