Monday, May 5, 2014

Dear Lily, 

All right so here's the deal. I tried to potty train you LAST year. And you were afraid. You were petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. What? Geez Miss Gaynor. Stop popping up in my life. Anyway. So potty was a no go last year. Serious petrification. So if you're sitting there thinking, "Mom waited til a week before I turned 3 to potty train me?", stop that judging this instant. We tried. You weren't down like any kind of clown. So overnight I decided we were going to do it. (All great decisions are made overnight, right?) And it was going to be done in three days. That's all the rage these days. After infant training, which I also tried and realized very quickly I was much too lazy for. Then I realized you were going to Dad's on Monday night and didn't want to start something so radical and turn your whole life view upside down then have you go change the routine for a night then come home and be confused on how this new thing goes. But we went potty shopping on Saturday anyway. And you picked out your Lightening McQueen potty. That makes super loud race car noises instead of flushing. Which is amplified in a small bathroom. Now mom's petrified.

Anyway, by Saturday night you wanted to set up the potty. Which is actually like step 3 in the whole 3 days process. 1 and 2 being wake up, throw away absolutely all diapers, eat a big breakfast and talk about today's the day you become a big girl THEN set up and discuss the potty. You can thank good old nursing school for mom needing numbered instructions. So we rushed through discussing the potty. Which turned into "You get a sticker or starburst AFTER you pee in the potty." Queue the wailing and tears. In case you're not into those sorts of things later in life, just know you REALLY are into stickers, tattoos and starbursts at this stage. Then the next hour was devoted to mom getting lots of stickers and starbursts for going potty.

And a new owl mug.

Which she was gonna get anyway but it was her big prize and it matches your new owl jar that holds the starburst rewards.

And she figured she'd need coffee for this venture.
Fresh pants, wipes, TP, stickers, starbursts, books to read.



During this time, you cried wolf a lot. "I go potty!" Nothing. But whatever. Practice is good. You just missed a couple steps and would have failed your check off at this rate. But there's no grade at mom's. And there was a lot of silly singing during this time. Which is probably where Gloria got into my head. Well after that got old, you went and grabbed a pair of underwear to put on and went on about your business. I reminded you to let me know if you needed to go potty.

Next thing I know you're running in circles, as is usual, but you end up in the bathroom going potty in the potty! Through the underwear but we can learn that step later. Naked baby it is. I was elated. We got a sticker AND a starburst. We called Grandma. Who you didn't care to talk to anyway so the calling stopped there. (Who mommy was supposed to call like a week ago. Oops. Anyway. In case things haven't changed in 10 years, please remember your mom has the memory God gave a stump. And be forgiving. Remember I potty trained you. Which I hope is completed in 10 years.)

Sooooo yes. Potty happened. Praise, clapping, yay Lilys, dancing, all that happened. I showed you how to empty it into the potty. Fast forward about 5 minutes. You run back into the bathroom, of your own volition, and I'm pretty sure empty your bladder. I sort of peeked in and was promptly ordered out. WELL. Big Lily likes her privacy all of a sudden. Then, like a BIG girl, you emptied it into the big potty like I showed you.
Only not exactly like I showed you.
Not at all like I showed you.
There was no wiping involved and pee splashed everywhere. Sigh. At least you won't be peeing standing up. Well, accurately at any rate.
Excited, as you can see.


Fast forward to last night. Feverish, chills, no appetite for fruit snacks (which means you're sick, dying or dead)...we shall utilize a diaper. Cuz if you're in mom's bed we are not messing with night one of potty training. We will start nap and night tomorrow. This morning. I was brushing your hair and you started crying! I thought for sure the sunscreen yesterday didn't work and your scalp was burned and here I was scratching it! But no. You tinkled in your chair a bit. So I scooped you up and scuttled you off to the potty. I felt terrible cuz you wouldn't stop crying so I gave you a sticker in anticipation. And it worked. You stopped crying and finished going in the potty. Yay Lily! Today is also different in that now you call me in to go potty with you. Privacy is overrated anyway. But I still haven't had to ask you if you need to go. You just march in there. I'm telling you, this is going so much easier than last time.

I don't know what we're gonna do when we have to go out. Like to the park as I told you we would. I didn't think you'd be using the potty when I told you we could go. I hate to put a diaper on, but I haven't really gotten to the "You're ready to take a trip outside!" part of the book. Which I'm pretty sure happens on day 2 but it's not AWAY from the house. I think that's day 3. And we're technically starting the 3 day thing for real tomorrow.

**Update** I've discovered why you want me to go potty with you all of a sudden. You can't get the stickers open. I feel used.

So the next thing we will work on is throwing away the tissue paper, not flushing it. I feel like that will work in my favor in the long run. Also, not wiping your FACE with the same square you wiped elsewhere with. EWWWWWWWW.
Don't worry. I still love you. Even though the wet underwear we put in the bucket in the tub attracted ants in 2 hours. That's what they invented Borax for.

Much love (but no kisses cuz i know where that paper has been),

Mom




Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Veggies Tales Cover by Marcia



And now it’s time for silly songs with Marcia. The part of the show where Marcia types and emails out a silly song.  Our curtain opens as Stephanie, having come back from women’s Bible study, is trying to start up her Ipad.  Having no success, Stephanie cries out…

Steph: What’s wrong with my Ipad? What’s wrong with my IPad?  What’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong… with my Ipad?

Narrator: having heard her cry, Lily enters the scene.  Shocked and slight embarrassed at the thought of having had too much fun on the ipad, she regains her sweet look and says: I think the battery ran out of juice!

Steph: My poor and dead Ipad, my poor and dead Ipad, my poor and dead, my poor and dead, my poor and dead, my poor and dead, my poor….and dead Ipad.

Narrator: Having heard Steph shout, Thomas enters the scene. Sleepy and slightly embarrassed because he just rolled out of bed, he quickly wakes up and says: You charged up the ipad just a bit ago.

Narrator: Steph is taken aback. She remembered charging the ipad overmight.  She tried turning on the ipad, and only the apple would show on the screen.  What does this mean? Will she have to call apple? Where is the serial number? Where is the box for the Ipad? Why isn’t the drawer opening???

Steph: Oh why is the drawer stuck? Oh why is the drawer stuck? Oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why is the drawer stuck?

Narrator: Having heard Steph fight with the drawer, Grandaddy enters the scene.  Shocked and slightly taken aback at the sight of Steph beating the drawer, he regains his composure and says: Jiggle the drawer until the drawer comes unstuck!

Narrator: Steph jiggles the drawer.  She shook the drawer until the hammer falls back inside the drawer.  She quickly grabs the box, and calls Apple with the serial number.  Apple says: We think time will solve all your problems!

Narrator: Feeling a deep sense of let-downed-ness, Steph writes down the case and contact numbers of apple and laments:

Steph: Not fair for my Ipad. Not fair! My poor Ipad. Not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair! My poor Ipad!

Encore!
 Thank God for my iPad. Thank God for my iPad. Thank God thank God thank God thank God thank God... For my iPad.

The End.

P.S. Time did not fix my iPad. Lots of wailing, wooing, and boohoo-ing fixed my iPad. That and fiiiiinally getting it to turn on, back up and restore. Shew!!!! It's been a long afternoon.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Midnight Happy Hour

We all know the biggest no-no as a mother is to wake your sleeping child. Well, my name is Stephanie and I like to hold my baby before I go to bed. Sometimes it's enough to know that she's still breathing and hasn't been kidnapped, but most of the time (especially since the door creaks) I get to pick her up and rock for a minute, tell her I love her one more time, put her back, watch her wriggle around and then fall back asleep. Now. Try being anyone else besides me and doing that and I will rant at you and threaten to come to your house and wake all of your sleeping children RIGHT after they stop crying and fall asleep (insert Audricon).

I think the people that tell you not to bother your kids after bed time just don't want you to have one serious special time each night or two with your little, tiny, helpless baby. Remember when you were trying to make dinner earlier today and your toddler did everything but entertain herself? Remember during dinner when every "want another bite?" was met with rigorous head shaking and every limb flailing to keep food away? Remember when NOTHING worked except holding her in one arm while stirring the pot, pouring milk, saying 'the fridge is going to bite your finger if you don't remove it' while putting the milk back, starting the microwave and setting the table with the other? Well, THAT child is nowhere to be found. When the door creaks and you hear her stand up and say "hey!" you only smile and feel your heart grow bigger than the Grinch's (really, hormones? Is threatening tears necessary?). Of course, your reverie is only slightly fractured by the sound of the wind being broken multiple times by this adorable creature. Mahvelous. After all, I have done myself a favor. I'm sure her tummy hurting would have woken her up much later at night when I was fast asleep and lets face it- who really wants to revisit the glory days of sleep deprivation? 

Bottom line- if you need a quick shot of happiness-similar-to-that-of-a-quiet-beach, take a break from fixing the rest of the world and go let your baby hold you with her unquestioning love. Oh, the hardships of having just one sprout on your family branch...

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

How big is Lily? Soooo big!

'Twas the night before Wednesday, and all o'er the sink
The dishes were piling, chink, chink, chink, chink, chink.
The eggs were fast beaten, 'til foamy with air,
The cook's fingers sticky, and flour in her hair.

Oh! The horrors of finding a first birthday cake!
Deprive your sweet baby of a chocolate-y bake?
Is it child abuse to give any sugar at all?
Do we skip the whole cake? Sugars and all?

We're not against sugar- no such revulsions-
Neither do we want her going into convulsions.
We're sort of an in-between household I guess
She's got to have something worthwhile of the mess!

A compromise is called for! The point will be moot.
A banana cake is healthy, her most favorite-est fruit,
Who knows if she'll eat it? Too healthy you say?
Well, the frosting is CHOCOLATE, mom's favorite all day!



Monday, May 7, 2012

This is the story of how I lost my mind.

Once upon a time, on a dark, dark night, there was an evil witch. We shall call her Ouisa. (She has nothing to do with this story except to make me happy. And every good story has a villain. And I can't very well make LILY the villain. And it's not like I'M the villain- I'm the victim here.) There was also a beautiful Indian princess named Tiger Lily. (This was before Captain Hook's time.) Now, Tiger Lily was just a baby when this story takes place. Tiger Lily's mother, Anastasia, already had much on her hands. (Random insertion- I KEEP trying to press the space bar twice on my laptop to place period at the end of a sentence. #iphonemusclememory) Ahem. Anastasia spent her days feeding Tiger Lily Cheerios in their wigwam in Russia and breaking up head butting contests between the Princess and Toto, the big smelly dog. This is what they looked like.