Splitting Hairs

Little sister had her first haircut this weekend, bangs only.

Robster got his fluffy "Uncle Matt" hair trimmed down.

No one cried, so there were lollipops all around.

It's amazing what a "bangs" haircut has done to make Annie lose her baby-ness.  It's toddler preschool mayhem around here now!

The New Mom War: Potty Training

I'm a smart person.  At least I think I am.   I am dedicated.  Devoted.

Work hard and parent hard.  Decent at my job. 

Kind to animals.  I recycle.  Tithe to a church.  Donate when someone runs at marathon.

Have fairly happy and fairly healthy and inquisitive and kind and active and friendly kids. 

You know, winning at parenting basically.  Winning at life even, most of the time.

The kids?  They know letters.  They hug friends. They ask to be excused from the table. They say hello and good morning to strangers. They say thank you and please and your welcome and let you wipe their noses.     You know, as you do.

I've met my parenting match.

(Well the other one.  Annie is going to be my parenting match for the next eighteen years).

The other parenting match.

Potty training.

And y'all? 

Potty training is a sh*t head.

And said sh*thead is the fodder for the new Mommy wars and is bringing back some PTSD fro the breastfeeding Mom guilt days.

We were so awesome back in November. Yes.  November.  10 months ago.  When we took the first "hey he's reading a book on the potty" cute photo.

And sit he did.

And sit he will.

But the real deal?  The stuff that big-boy-omg-you-need-to-do-this-for-preschool-entrance?  He's not made of it.

He can.  He even will. 

But also, he won't.

And I'm officially the Mom at preschool whose kid is supposed to be totally potty trained who is at her wits end.

I've gone all Kelly Mom on the internet for potty training information. 

Why this?  What that?  What cues are we missing?  Are we asking often and correctly?  Did we do pantless weekend right?  Did we do stickers and reward bowl accurately?  Are we teaching or forcing? 

And what genius invented auto-flush toilets, AKA TODDLER'S SATAN.

We are only napping in pullups to catch said poops.  We are using potty watches so he can have ownership.

We switched to a school for many reasons, but one being that the new one had a little more understanding of a potty policy. 

We travel with huge Ziploc bags.  Everywhere for costume changes.

We visit the potty before, after, during every transition.

We ask. 

We don't take no as an answer.

And damned if he doesn't come home with poop pants.

And on the way to school say... "THE POOP.  IT'S COMING"

Daily.

We are working the washer's sanitize cycle to its max.

Lesson learned. 

I'm sure the teachers hate us.

I hate this part of us.

Never turn to the internet message boards for potty training answers.

Apparently, I'm a coddling 1st world mom who is lazy.

There's something developmentally wrong with our little dude.

There's something parentally wrong with me.

I should have done this 18 months ago.

I'm giving him life long control issues.

You know, anonymous or known advice giver because I LOVE rinsing undies.  And doing laundry.  And did I mention the number of Clorox wipes we go through?  And said Ziploc baggies?

And clearly I'm setting him up for a lifetime of OCDbulimixetyrexia.

It's enough to mess with an already stressed Mom mind with school and life and job changes.

So y'all? 

Remember when we were talking about pumping and supply and latching and bleeding and crying and block feeding and the witching hour and fenugreek and more pumping and OMG is my kid starving during the breastfeeding wars?

Just know that some of us are doing the best we can.

PS, I know what to do.  I've read all the articles.  All the surveys and advice and tricks and means.  Don't pass them on.  Please.  They make the mama fur bristle on my back.

Judge not.

Can you judge this face?

Climbing steps

When we opened the door this morning to AH's room we were faced with her on top of changing table with all of her diapers and wipes strewn all over the floor.

The is the fourth time she had climbed out her crib and this last time made it plain that it was time "convert" her convertible bed.  This was actually was (for once) pretty easy. 

Now we get keep our fingers crossed and hope she can handle her new found freedom.

As of this writing she is still awake.


Keep us in your thoughts.

++++++ 10:22PM Update +++++++++

It's going to be a long night.

Just pictures

When you don't have time to write, I can give you pictures.  Like ones from his birthday presents we never opened until a week ago?
(Sorry, thank you notes coming.  Potty training being used as an impetus)
(PS, its working)

Zoops

Say you have a Saturday morning and the moment you wake up your power blows?

Why you decide to go to the ZOO!

Family fun day!

Dress the kids in their water sandals.  You know for the otter splash pond.

Man, parking was easy this morning.

Dang, where's the pig?

And the bear?

And the otter?

And the elephant.

The chimp.

The gorilla.

The prairie dogs are even seeking AC.

Whew.  It's hot.

Make awkward conversation at the pizza playground about how empty it is.

Visit reptile building even though you hate snakes and it creeps you out.

Sure is empty at the zoo.

Oh eldest kid?  You outgrew your water shoe?  Your foot is bleeding after the mile long zoo march?

Hint:  Don't go to the zoo when it is 95 degrees and 150% humidity.

Welp, there's always the carousel.