Tag Archives: potty training

Things are looking up and other assorted musings

30 Nov

Well, at least I got rid of my cold anyway.  I gave it to poor Hubby who came home early last Tuesday feeling like something the cat wharfed up.  But I don’t feel too bad for him – after a trip to the doc, he came back with prescription cough medicine (lucky bastard) and had a week off between sick days and the holiday.  He was a lot better in a day or two.  I feel like I’m totally going to jinx myself saying this but, somehow, someway, Mr. T didn’t get it.  I have no idea how that happened, but I’m thanking all of my lucky stars, and maybe some not so lucky ones, too. 

Jr. High Lawfirm still isn’t any better, but if people are going to behave that way, then I’m totally fine with them not speaking to me.  Saves me the hassle of telling them to go play hopscotch on the interstate.  Why do some people have nothing better to do than drum up drama?  Really, take up scrapbooking for something, for crying out loud.  I’m up to my eyeballs in medical records in the Case From Hell, but I’ve about got that file eating out of the palm of my hand.   Other than that, it’s been eerily quiet at the office so far this week.  Which is usually a sure sign that something is going to hit the fan soon.  I’m so optimistic, right? 

How is that you can have an entire week off, but because of a holiday feel even more tired than before?  Seriously, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m not in the least bit ready for Christmas, I would already be counting down the days until my next day off.   And how the hell did it get to be almost Christmas, anyway?  I’m tired of saying “I can’t believe it’s ____ already.”  I’m convinced that as soon as I utter those words, time speeds up just to screw with me. 

You know what’s hilarious?  Watching in the rear view mirror as the person behind you has a conniption fit because they haven’t figured out that everybody is going 25 mph because it’s a SCHOOL ZONE.  Honking the horn and gesturing wildly without bothering to notice why everyone is going the same excruciatingly slow speed only makes you look like a total jackhole.  I would have gone slower just to screw with her but I was too busy laughing and watching my mirror.    Of course, my 3 year old doesn’t miss a thing.  He repeatedly asked what the honking was about, and how do you nicely explain that someone is just being a douche? 

Oh, and entertainment in the car tonight courtesy of Mr. T:   “I’m Superman!”  Me: “Oh really?  Superman, huh?”  T: “Yeah, I’m Superman.  (in a very serious, tough sounding voice)  Don’t mess me up!”  Me: “Do you mean ‘Don’t mess with me?'”    Yesterday he told us he was concentrated at school.  I have no idea what he meant by that, or how he learned that word, I was just totally amused that he knew the word “concentrated.”   I also wasn’t lying when I said my kid might read before he is potty trained.  He sounded out all the letters on the Petsmart can lid this weekend.  I’m sure we wont’ be able to get away with spelling P-I-Z-Z-A for long before he figures out what we’re talking about.  His teachers have assured me that he will go potty soon, and that he’s just resisting now because he knows I want him to.   *sigh*  I guess I should start talking about how awesome Pull Ups are?  I know I should be able to outsmart a 3 year old, but it’s proving easier said than done. 

I hope everybody had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

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Potty success! (Sort of)

25 Oct

I was so excited last night, I could hardly contain myself.   We were visiting some friends last night, we had dropped by on our way home after dinner.  We were outside, in the front yard, and Mr. T would occasionally grab his crotch & kinda dance around.  Hubby asks if he has to go potty.  He said he did & they went inside to the bathroom.  Less than 2 minutes later, they came back out.  As I had predicted 30 seconds prior, T changed his mind the minute it looked like he might have to actually sit on the toilet.  So a few minutes later, he starts doing the same thing again.  This time I took him to the bathroom….and he peed!  Like, right away!  The only time we’ve been able to get him to pee on the potty before was if he sat there for like 30 minutes.   Oh, I made such a big deal about it.  I told him he could make a big announcement to EVERYBODY that he peed in the potty. (Editors note: did you know the spell checker doesn’t like “peed”?  Huh.)

The cutest part was when he went outside and, of course, proudly exclaimed that he had peed!  In the potty!  And washed his hands!  And the soap was blue!  Then their dog sauntered up, probably to see what all the commotion was about.  T squatted down in front of the dog and said, “Doggy, I peed in the potty!”  Cutest. Thing. Ever.  Ok, at least the cutest thing this weekend. 

Of course, I’m thrilled to death and immediately imagine that this is the beginning of the end for Pull-Ups in my house.  I’m envisioning T being completely trained and going to the potty from here on out.  Aaaaand, that’s where the dream ended.  This morning he said he wanted to go, but as soon as we got near the potty, nope.  Ain’t gonna do it.   He was actually begging me to put his Pull-Ups back on.  *sigh* Oh well, at least it’s some progress!

And it’s Monday, or, “The Day We Don’t Speak of” in my house.   Back to wading through medical records and depo summaries; juggling cases/priorities and hoping that I don’t get an email or phone call with a project that must be done right away.  Here’s hoping I might actually get something finished & off my desk today.

Wanted: 3 year old tamer & potty trainer

21 Oct

Work has mellowed out (a teensy bit) this week so I’m back to worrying about my son and how he’s not potty trained.  And how he’s dead set on pushing all of my buttons.  At once.   Once upon a time, I was so excited that he was moving on from the “terrible two’s”.  It was so close I could taste it.  Then somebody said, “Oh, wait until he’s 3.  That’s the worst.”  Whuck?  Why do people wait until you’re at the end of the 2’s stage, and think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, only to tell you, “Guess what?  That light is a Mack truck & it’s carrying a ton of bricks!  Have fun!”   Yeah, yeah, I know.  Every kid is different.  But seriously, I know a ton of people who complain about the 3’s.  Some mean, rotten person even told me that 4’s were no fun either.   C’mon, we barely got into the 3’s and you’re telling me it gets worse?  Just stab me in the heart and get it over with already.

In all honesty, I really don’t worry about what other people say.  Mr. T is going to do whatever it is he is going to do, and I’ll deal with it.  But, damn, if he isn’t acting like a typical 3 year old lately.  Case in point:  Driving home the other night, he starts whining and says, “Mommy, I wanna go hooommmme.”  (Long, drawn out and whiny.  Did I mention whiny?)  No problem, for once we’re doing what he wants to do.  “Okay, good, because that’s where we’re going.  We’re going home.”  Mr. T took 2 seconds to digest this and then starts, again with the whiny, pathetic voice, “No, I wanna go to schooooolll.”   Super.  Since we’re doing what he said he wanted to do, now he wants to do the opposite.    We’re working with him on the whining, telling him to just ask nicely, and “We can’t hear whining.”   It works once you remind him, but dear Lord, why is whining the default setting on 3 year olds?  Is there an override for that? 

The potty training is simply a battle of the wills at this point.  He’s not willing to do it, so it’s not happening.  And I’m not pushing him.  I know he’ll do it when he’s ready.  Then I get all concerned that maybe I’m not doing enough to get him there.  That’s one of the great things about being a Mommy: you usually worry no matter which course of action you take.  Am I pushing too hard?  Am I not bringing it up enough?  One day he’s asking to use the potty (although not actually going once he’s on it) and other times he wants nothing to do with it.  Nope, totally content to wear Pull-ups.  *sigh*  Seriously, I’m willing to pay someone to potty train him at this point.  Is there a “potty whisperer”? 

(Warning: Rant ahead)  Don’t even get me started on the teacher’s aide who asked me Monday if he had any siblings.  Now, let me say this:  Monday was a particularly bad day, complete with a total meltdown once we got to daycare.  Oh, what fun that was – screaming, pushing, throwing himself on the ground, etc.  I can’t even tell you what he was upset about.  I took him in the bathroom to have a private chat, which then he decided was a great opportunity to throw a plastic footstool.  Awesome.  Needless to say, that was another day that I did NOT get to work in a timely fashion.   So when I picked him up that afternoon, I was greeted with that question from the teacher’s aide.  No, Mr. T doesn’t have siblings.  And he’s not going to have any.  What I should have asked was, “Why?”  But I didn’t.  Even when she said, “Oh, that’s what I thought.”   At the time, I was frazzled, tired and just wanted to go home.  T was running around like a wild hyena and all I wanted to do was corral him to the door & go home.  Once I got in the car, I started thinking, “What the hell did she mean by that?”   Then I started getting pissy and of course, I’m assuming that her thinking T was an only child had a negative connotation.   Screw her, my kid is great.  Yeah, he’s 3 and he likes pushing the limits lately.  But he’s polite, sweet, smart, charming, funny and the cutest frickin’ kid you’ve ever seen.  How many kids say “Excuse me” and smile sweetly every time they fart?  He’s been around other kids on a nearly daily basis since he was 8 weeks old.  He shares, hugs friends when they are upset, and loves playing with his friends on the playground.  He’s also happiest when you’re reading him a book or showing him how to draw shapes.  He’s not missing on anything by not having a sibling and he’s certainly not spoiled.  I’ll be damned if I’m going to have “one of those” kids.  So, Ms. Teachers Aide Who Only Has Known My Kid for a Month, SUCK IT.  (Gee, do you think I’m a bit touchy about it?) 

But he did the coolest thing tonight.  He tried to draw a T for the first time!  And he did an awesome job!  Okay, so T’s aren’t exactly the most challenging of the letters, but I was proud of him.  He said, “I can’t do it, Mommy.”  And then, he did it!   Then he drew a monster truck (of course) and for the first time I can think of, it actually looked like something vaguely resembling a monster truck and not scribbles.   Then he flipped the page and drew a pumpkin – with a smiley face!  So, having a 3 year old isn’t so bad after all.  Maybe I should tape the pumpkin drawing up in my car somewhere to remind me it’s not all whining and meltdowns.

Juggling

7 Oct

Juggling seems to be the theme of my life lately.  I know I am completely not alone in this feeling.  There are plenty of people, working moms and non-moms alike, who probably think, “Welcome to the frickin’ club!  You want a cookie or something?”  (And truthfully, I will never say no to a cookie.)  Anymore, it just seems like if I’m not juggling chores at home, I’m juggling cases at work, bouncing back and forth between working on my own cases and assisting our newbie paralegal get her feet under her, and juggling my own time of what I want to accomplish and what I need to accomplish.  Oh yeah, I also have a husband that I have to fit in there somewhere.  Just yesterday I was thinking that I am adding more to my plate with volunteering as the treasurer on the parent board for my son’s preschool and committing more of myself to my blog, when I have been whining all along that I never have enough time.  However, I felt a bit more energized and challenged; ready to tackle anything and everything.  Um, can you say temporary insanity?  Maybe it’s the permanent variety instead. 

Then reality comes crashing down, as usual.  I received an email from Boss A letting me know of a depo that was just scheduled and the need to have two very voluminous depositions summarized before then.  Which reminds me that I just got some additional medical records in this case which need to be organized, summarized and disseminated to the experts, then I must update my memo concerning records we still need.  And there’s a large stack of medical bills from the plaintiff in that case that are mocking me from the corner of my desk.

I have another stack of medical records received via authorization in another case that need to be logged, bates stamped and produced to other parties before also being organized, summarized and disseminated.  Never mind that we are quickly approaching a trial date on a case that I knew nothing about two months ago.  And a huge case that was in limbo is now back in action.  I think I’ll stop here before my brain implodes.

I’ve always performed better when I was challenged, but this is borderline ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with me?  I know I’m a masochist because, hello, I work in litigation and more specifically medical malpractice.  But I really do feel like I’ve gotten out of my rut mentally since taking on more.  Your Honor, I plead insanity. 

On the home front, T is beginning to show some little signs of being ready to use the potty.  Yay!  He told his teachers the other day that he wanted to wear his undies and did sit on the potty, but didn’t go.  He had 1 accident in his undies and was wearing another pair when I picked him up.  Since we were going out to dinner, and I am NOT brave enough to try public outings without vinyl covers or Pull-ups, he went back into a Pull-up when we got home.  But – at least he’s thinking about it.  On the way home last night, he said he wanted to go potty.  Unfortunately, it’s a long ride home and by the time we got there, he changed his mind.  But, again, he’s thinking about it!  Oh, and he’s turning into such a little BOY and not the sweet, cuddly toddler he used to be.  Yesterday, his toy dinosaur was eating a sweet little chick finger puppet from last Easter.  It used to be that his animal friends played together and raced monster trucks.  Now they are carnivorous.  *sigh* Another bittersweet reminder that my little guy is growing up.

Here I am again

4 Oct

Today I find myself at home during the almost middle of the day to wait for the TV repair guy.  To Hubby, this equates to the elusive “Mommy’s time alone” that I keep bitching talking about.  I say it does not, because being home in the almost middle of the day means that at any moment, an attorney could be looking for me.   And I stress about things like that.  Being home and “stressy” doesn’t equal happy, relaxing Mommy time.  At any moment, one of my bosses could be looking for something or need something, and my not being there could throw a big wrench in the works.  No, I’m not indispensible.  But they tend to get all knee-jerky and say things like, “If you’re going to have an unforseeable TV catastrophe (and your husband cannot be there even though he’s the one who scheduled the damn thing) then you need to give me advance notice!  And have someone cover for you!  And read my mind so you can figure out what I need before I do!”   In reality, I’ll probably get back to the office and no one will have even noticed I’m gone.   There is always the possiblity, though, that I’ll get the knee-jerk instead.  Especially since we’re getting ready for trial.  Technically, litigation attorneys are ALWAYS getting ready for trial but every legal staff member knows that trial prep really doesn’t start in earnest until about 4 weeks before the trial date.    But “trial prep mode” will have to be another post.  And oh, what a fun post it will be.

Anyway, this morning was also another one of those mornings where being a mom of a 3 year old and being employed full time didn’t mix very well.  I am not a morning person.  Never have been, never will be.  So getting up bright and early and making it into the office before 8:30 has never been a frequent accomplishment of mine.  (Except on trial days, but I can thank adrenaline for that.)  This morning I bartered with the alarm clock for another few minutes (once…or twice) and went about my AM routine.  Mr. T was not in his obstinate, I’m-going-to-do-the-opposite-of-what-you-want-me-to-do-because-I’m-three , mode so we actually had a chance at getting out of the house at a decent time.  Now, I haven’t mentioned it much but we’re still in the throes of potty training.  And it’s not going very well.   T has just decided that he isn’t interested.  Yep, he agrees that all the “big boys” at school go pee pee on the potty, but not him.  He’s perfectly happy in his Pull-ups, thank you very much. 

So, we’re ready to head out the door and I’m all, “Yay, I might actually make it in by 8:30”.  I check T’s Pull-up and he’s still dry, so I offer the potty.  Nope, he doesn’t have to go.  Super, let’s roll.  We get out the door and three-quarters of the way to the car when T looks at me with this horrified look on this face and says, “Mommy!!!  I’m peeing!!!!”  Now, this shouldn’t be some big revelation.  He’s been peeing in his Pull-Ups or a diaper all his life.  It wasn’t leaking and running down his leg or anything.  Just ordinary urination.  I told him we’d change his Pull-up when we get to school.  Nope, that’s not going to work.  That would be too easy.  He gets all whiny and puts on his scruntched up, not happy face, “Nooooo, please I want you to change me now?!!”  (Insert really, really whiny, pathetic voice.)  He rarely asks to be changed but NOW it’s just too unbearable to go on.  For the love of God, I was “this close” to getting out of the driveway at a decent time.   So on one hand, I’m happy that he’s acknowledging this and wants to change.  On the other hand, I JUST WANT TO GET IN THE CAR!   My mommy side wound up winning out over my professional side (of course), and we went back inside.   T then insisted he still had to sit on the potty, so he sat.  And did nothing.  And then said, “Please I want a race car?”.  Nope, sorry, it doesn’t work that way.   But you have to admire him for trying.  *sigh*

The TV guy is done so I should go back to work.  This kinda did work out to be not so bad Mommy Alone Time.  And I got to eat some of the carrot cake in the fridge.  So, not so bad.  Just don’t tell Hubby, okay?  I don’t want him to think I actually enjoyed this.