Archives for posts with tag: potty-training

I’d told Boy that if his diaper was dry for three nights in a row, he could sleep in undies instead of a diaper. In early December, we’d go two nights and have a wet diaper the third. Good rule, I thought, patting myself on the back. Glad I hadn’t set the bar at two nights!

For weeks now, his diapers have weighed the same in the morning as they did at night. Due to a rash, we’ve had to have a dalliance with disposables after more than two years of cloth. They felt so foreign, so wrong, so wasteful…so easy. I’d touch them to see if they were dry – they sure were! Of course, I couldn’t tell if they were dry from being dry or dry from being disposable. With cloth, you know – even if you have a AI2 and have to reach inside to check. I wasn’t about to cut his diapers open to feel the magic beads or whatever lives inside the diapers (small, inflatable fairies? They’d have one of the worst jobs ever!).

I decided I’d try the switch to underwear on a Friday – no wet bed to contend with on a school night, if it all went wrong. And it didn’t.

I might be a bit sadder about leaving this stage behind if it were the cloth diapers I was giving up now. However, in these use-it-once-and-move-on diapers, there’s no nostalgia, no “remember when’s.” We’re disposing with disposables, and I’m glad. I just hope that the rest of the nights are as dry as last night.


October 6th, Tuesday. Boy had his first car ride (and out-of-the-house trip) in underwear. He stayed dry, which the car, the Piggly Wiggly, and I all appreciated. Woo hoo! Within two or three weeks, he had fully transitioned to underwear during the day. Celebration!

October 6th, Tuesday (same day). Boy had his first real experience throwing up. There was a lot of orange food involved: cooked carrots, raw carrots, goldfish – so as you can imagine, this was quite the first. Sadness.

This was also Girl’s full week of fall break, her first real break from kindergarten (excluding Labor Day). She, too, spent it sick. Pretty much the whole week, between them. We each had a turn. Not the most fun we’ve ever had.

November 13, Friday. Yes, that’s Friday the 13th. No, we wouldn’t have picked it that way. Today, the house that Boy and Girl have dubbed “The Bluestone House” finally became ours. Their very own home – it will be Girl’s fourth home of residence but only Boy’s second.

November 30, Monday. Girl first tried and subsequently succeeded at tying shoelaces. Hooray! (And did you know that one method involves making two loops, not one? And apparently, it’s easier??) At school, beginning on December 1st, kindergarteners could get into the Jingle Bell Club. Once they showed their teacher that they could tie their shoes, they got to wear a jingle bell necklace every day at school for the rest of the month. Her entry into the club didn’t come until roughly two weeks later, but she’s now a confident shoe tie-er – not bad for someone who still has no shoes with laces.

December 9, Wednesday. Girl, Boy, and I all got haircuts. For Girl, it was her first time donating hair (two of the cutest little braids). She was delighted to have chin-length hair and never once thought she’d made the wrong choice. I donated mine, too (yea!). For Boy, it was his first not-at-home haircut. All the same, I think I’ll be cutting his again next time, which should really be today!

December 22, Tuesday. After going to the public library for an ornament-making craft, Girl got her first library card and checked out her first book: William & the Missing Masterpiece by Helen Hancocks. She was so proud of herself!

December 25, Friday (Christmas at the grandparents’ house). Boy was given his first pack of gum – Glee Gum, just like Girl got for Christmas when she was two – and chewed up a storm. Glee covered how he felt about it. (Sure, he swallowed a good bit, too…maybe we should call it “swallowing gum” instead of “chewing gum”!)

December 27, Sunday (our bonus Christmas at home). Girl received her own mug, “I (heart) Cupcakes!”, and was delighted. Sometimes, it’s the funny little things that are your own that become special.

January 2, Saturday. Girl read two books all by herself. I think she just holed up, snuggled in, and lost track of time. (What a great way to spend a day!) She read a Magic School Bus Chapter Book, Rocky Road Trip, and a Geronimo Stilton book, A Cheese-Colored Camper.

January 9, Saturday. Boy and Girl got to make pasta with their Auntie Lou. This was a first, and they enjoyed cranking the machine and helping to pull the pasta out. Family visit: yea!

After Matthew came home from a conference in Seattle (his return is always like a gift for the kids, whether it’s after a trip or just a morning at work), he unpacked his sack, Santa-style. (He should have laughed “ho-ho-ho,” too!) Among the goodies was a gift rolled in newspaper for Boy. He unrolled and unwrapped then said in high-pitched delight, “My very own mug!” His says “Seattle” and has one scene with a blue sky, clouds, and folks covered by umbrellas and another scene with a grey sky, clouds, and folks covered by umbrellas!

January 10, Sunday. Our first snow of the season that stuck. There was a little snow in December, the kind that decorates the air but not the ground, but this was enough to make a heavy powdered-sugar showing. Delight again! “I bet the house is wearing snow!” said Boy, upon seeing the snow on the ground, trees, and playset.

January 11, Monday. My first blog post in too long, my first reminder of the year of the many kinds of things that happen and pass all too quickly (or, in the case of stomach bugs, not quickly enough!) in the lives of small children.

Happy New Year, 2016!

Two years. Two weeks. Two days. That’s how old my Earth Day birthday girl is.

Numbers are big these days. Last week, three days of fever (so sad! so unlike her!). Three balloons for her birthday, two of them mylar. She can count a bit: one mouth (she scrunches her lips to ascertain that, yes, there is only one mouth), two ears (she touches them, reassured), two eyes (seeing out of them seems to be proof enough), one nose (a touch to the side, like Santa, but without rising up the chimney), and…three feet. Ah. Well. She can count to twelve, but give her three things in a dish, and she’ll count “One, two, dee, doh, die, dih, deh, eight, nigh, teh, weh, teh,” running through all the numbers in her repertoire. A fine counter she is – as long as the number is one, sometimes two, or twelve.

Her awareness of time is growing, too. When she saw her juice on the table, she was it was “from yesterday.” And it was. A couple of days later, she saw and then was happily eating a sucker, always lollipops to her, or really, “wahweepops.” I asked Matthew, “When you were a kid, did you eat the swirled Lifesavers suckers?” And if you, readers, did not, you’ve missed out – and apparently, they are no longer made, so you’ll need to continue to live with this gaping, life-preserver-shaped hole in your life. Ah, the blueberry ones…which prompted our dear girl to say, “When I was kid, I ate wahweepop, too – like this!” as she brandished the sucker in front of her. When she was a kid – and it’s true, her first sucker was on Halloween, nearly a quarter of her life ago. It kills me.

And colors. It’s been about a month, maybe a little more. But she nails them. Red. Blue. Silver. Yellow. Cars are her favorite color-identification-item of choice; their variety, their speed, and their sudden appearance and disappearance all make them great focal points, whether out on a walk or just looking out the window. So what if orange is yellow?

Finally, the potty. For at least a month before her birthday, she was diaper free. For probably a month before that, she was diaper free during the day and sometimes during nap- and nighttime. I’d give her the choice, and sometimes she’d pick diaper, sometimes undies. Now, even with the occasional wet pair of undies, I feel safe in calling her potty-trained. Hooray, girlie!

Where’s the thrill, the storyline, the cohesion, something to make all of this hang together? Good question. I don’t know. I just knew that I didn’t want my remarkable and much-loved girl’s second birthday to pass wholly unremarked. ¬†As a mother, now, birthdays seem as if they really mean most to parents (and anyone already living), the memorializing of the day that the world and we, in particular, had the great fortune to make the acquaintance of a new life, THIS particular girl. These bits and pieces of her don’t add up to the whole, but they are part of her, and by sharing them, maybe I’m reminding myself just how lucky I am to be privy to even this much knowledge of another’s life.

Wonder what she wished for?