Somehow, we have gotten into potty training mode in this house. I say somehow because I wasn't really planning on it to happen, it just did. I really was planning doing some training this summer when Pax turned 3, but once he got a taste of those jelly bean rewards...it's all serious business now.
I can't even mention changing his diaper without him freaking out and wanting to try to go on the potty. Even when I know he has just gone. There is no talking him out of it either. The kid wants those jelly beans. I can't say I don't blame him...they are Jelly Belly's.
Somewhere along the way, we all were eating Jelly Belly's every time he had success in the bathroom. I think the first celebration of success was so wonderful, we just kept on. It only took a few days for me to realize, "Hey, I just can't eat this many jelly beans, and not see the results of this bad habit creep up on me." So I quit. This was not as easy for Delanie, who doesn't understand that line of thought.
I told her yesterday that from now on, if Pax uses the potty he's going to get rewarded, but she was not. Of course, I got the whys. So I had to tell her that Pax was learning something new, and doing something for mommy so he was getting rewarded. If she too would like a reward, she was going to have do something for mommy as well. This led to a chore talk, behavior talk, and responsibilities discussion. It's never easy to explain why you have to take candy away from a child.
This afternoon, Pax went to use the potty. Sister was already in there doing her business as well. So there they both sat. When Pax was done, he was hooting and hollering. Delanie, was congratulating him and reminding him that he was going to get jelly beans.
Once we all got cleaned up, it was time for our reward.
Delanie: Mom, aren't you going to give Pax some jelly beans?
me: Yea, Pax is going to get a treat for being a big boy!
Pax: Yea, I get some JELLY BEANS (growly voice for jelly beans)
Delanie: Yea, Mom, me too!
me: No, Delanie, remember we talked about this. You have to earn jelly beans. Pax earned his by being a big boy, and you can earn some to by doing chores or helping mommy out somehow.
Delanie, without missing a beat: I did mommy I did a really important job.
me: Really? What's that?
Delanie: I watched him with an Eagle Eye the whole time he went pee.
So, Delanie got some jelly beans because, in our home, I reward my children for being quick and witty.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Speaking of Basketball...
To go along with my previous post this week about Delanie's first day at B-ball practice, we have this comment:
While watching the news highlights this morning there was a sports reel on the Denver Nuggets.
Delanie: WOW, Mom, look! Those guys are playing basketball.
me: Yup, they are.
Delanie: WHOA...Did you see him? He could jump really high!
me: Yup, they are good at jumping.
Delanie: Well, they shoot it in the hoop just like me though.
me: Yes, just like you...There's nothing different.
Delanie: Yea, I am the same as them!
While watching the news highlights this morning there was a sports reel on the Denver Nuggets.
Delanie: WOW, Mom, look! Those guys are playing basketball.
me: Yup, they are.
Delanie: WHOA...Did you see him? He could jump really high!
me: Yup, they are good at jumping.
Delanie: Well, they shoot it in the hoop just like me though.
me: Yes, just like you...There's nothing different.
Delanie: Yea, I am the same as them!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Aaaah Sweet Slumber
For Christmas this past year, I asked for new sheets. I know. I am wild, adventurous, and too glamorous for words. That's pretty much what Scott said when I told him that was something I was wanting. Actually, he said he couldn't do that...He feared it would come back to haunt him one day in the form of "Remember the Christmas of 2007? My romantic hubby bought me SHEETS!"
I was so elated to see new sheets on Christmas morning, it was sick. Then I got to really looking at the sheets. These were no ordinary sheets. These bore a brand name label, and had an obscene thread count. Since we have a king sized bed that needs deep pocket sheets, I knew that these came with a price tag that I couldn't bear to know.
So I asked.
He told.
And I nearly passed out.
It's not that they were that expensive, but I just have an absolute limit on what we can spend on what I consider boring stuff, like you know, sheets, and he went past it. His defense was that it was a Christmas gift, and you are supposed to give things to people that they wouldn't normally get for themselves.
Suddenly, I was having a flash back to the Christmas previous when I opened a tea pot that broke the same aforementioned rule about boring stuff and price limits. I threatened to return it because there was NO WAY I was keeping a tea pot with that kind of price tag...it would be irresponsible. That's when he said the same exact thing he was saying to me about the sheets.
I thought about how much joy I really did get out of that tea pot. I loved it because it was so nice, and I would've never made a splurge like that on a tea pot. It was nice to have something that I would've never bought myself. Learning from past experience, I decided to keep the sheets too.
Last night was the first time I got to sleep in those sheets. WOW! It was heaven. It was so comfortable, I forgot where I was when I woke up this morning. I am now guarding these sheets like they are some kind of breakable antique porcelain. No kids are allowed on the bed! I didn't know that sheets could be that soft. Also, I had no idea that sheets could fit an over sized pillow top mattress as well as these do. All this time, I have been stuffing our mattress into those other sheets.
What if I can't take them off? What if I keep these sheets on until next Christmas, when I can ask for another set (of course I would be washing them in between...I'm not that sick, people)? Most importantly, what if our pillows aren't good enough anymore for the sheets, and now I need to change them out to make my bed just that much more wonderful?
I think I am on to something here! I think I should ask for pillows for my birthday!
I was so elated to see new sheets on Christmas morning, it was sick. Then I got to really looking at the sheets. These were no ordinary sheets. These bore a brand name label, and had an obscene thread count. Since we have a king sized bed that needs deep pocket sheets, I knew that these came with a price tag that I couldn't bear to know.
So I asked.
He told.
And I nearly passed out.
It's not that they were that expensive, but I just have an absolute limit on what we can spend on what I consider boring stuff, like you know, sheets, and he went past it. His defense was that it was a Christmas gift, and you are supposed to give things to people that they wouldn't normally get for themselves.
Suddenly, I was having a flash back to the Christmas previous when I opened a tea pot that broke the same aforementioned rule about boring stuff and price limits. I threatened to return it because there was NO WAY I was keeping a tea pot with that kind of price tag...it would be irresponsible. That's when he said the same exact thing he was saying to me about the sheets.
I thought about how much joy I really did get out of that tea pot. I loved it because it was so nice, and I would've never made a splurge like that on a tea pot. It was nice to have something that I would've never bought myself. Learning from past experience, I decided to keep the sheets too.
Last night was the first time I got to sleep in those sheets. WOW! It was heaven. It was so comfortable, I forgot where I was when I woke up this morning. I am now guarding these sheets like they are some kind of breakable antique porcelain. No kids are allowed on the bed! I didn't know that sheets could be that soft. Also, I had no idea that sheets could fit an over sized pillow top mattress as well as these do. All this time, I have been stuffing our mattress into those other sheets.
What if I can't take them off? What if I keep these sheets on until next Christmas, when I can ask for another set (of course I would be washing them in between...I'm not that sick, people)? Most importantly, what if our pillows aren't good enough anymore for the sheets, and now I need to change them out to make my bed just that much more wonderful?
I think I am on to something here! I think I should ask for pillows for my birthday!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
This is Supposed to be FUN!
This past weekend, Delanie had her first basketball practice. We (Scott and I) have been anxiously waiting for this day for a very long time.
Before we had even decided to have kids, we had watched a kinder-basketball practice/game at the rec center one evening after working out. It was so cute and fun we decided, if we ever had kids, we would definitely sign them up for this. Fast forward six-ish years, and you have this past weekend.
It was really really cute, and Delanie had a BLAST. Try, if you can, to imagine 20-25 four to six- year-olds doing dribbling drills, practicing a defensive posture, shooting posture, hoop shooting, and passing drills. That about sums up the entire hour. It was adorable...to me at least...in the beginning.
Scott on the other hand, was quite uncomfortable. It was not sitting well with him that his little darling wasn't very good. In fact, when it came to dribbling in particular, she was horrible. I kind of giggled through it, and casually looked over at Scott to see if he was finding it just as amusing. He looked at me and said "I might have to leave, this is just to painful to watch." I told him that under no circumstances was he to leave, and he obliged.
After hearing him say that, I too couldn't help but feel...well...uncomfortable. Some of the other kids had obviously had some past training, but some were in the same boat as Delanie. It didn't matter. It was hard. We both wanted to go out there and help her. Do not worry, we remained calmly in our seats.
Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, they switched to a shooting drill, which she ROCKED at. For a while we were feeling much more at ease. Scott was still swearing up and down that the first thing he was going to do when he got home was to set up some dribbling drills for Delanie to work through each day.
As I was listening to him go on and on about how he was going to make her the star, I couldn't help but notice a few things. First, Delanie didn't care at all that she was having a hard time. In fact, I don't even think she noticed one bit. She ran up and down that gym, chasing the ball she was supposed to be dribbling, with a grin so big it lit up the whole place. Secondly, and almost more importantly, my perfectionistic daughter never gave up. Not once. We never saw her stop and sit in the middle of the gym floor pouting and complaining, "I can't do it!". Nope, it didn't happen. Instead she giggled, ran, laughed out loud, cheered, gave high-fives, and tried her best all hour long.
When it was all done, we asked if she had fun. She said she loved it. She immediately put on the team shirt, that was passed out after practice, over her sweat suit, and wore it proudly to lunch. She talked about practice for the rest of the day, and can't wait to go back next Saturday.
Thankfully, there have been no dribbling drills since then, like promised. I think she could coach me through a few drills though.
Before we had even decided to have kids, we had watched a kinder-basketball practice/game at the rec center one evening after working out. It was so cute and fun we decided, if we ever had kids, we would definitely sign them up for this. Fast forward six-ish years, and you have this past weekend.
It was really really cute, and Delanie had a BLAST. Try, if you can, to imagine 20-25 four to six- year-olds doing dribbling drills, practicing a defensive posture, shooting posture, hoop shooting, and passing drills. That about sums up the entire hour. It was adorable...to me at least...in the beginning.
Scott on the other hand, was quite uncomfortable. It was not sitting well with him that his little darling wasn't very good. In fact, when it came to dribbling in particular, she was horrible. I kind of giggled through it, and casually looked over at Scott to see if he was finding it just as amusing. He looked at me and said "I might have to leave, this is just to painful to watch." I told him that under no circumstances was he to leave, and he obliged.
After hearing him say that, I too couldn't help but feel...well...uncomfortable. Some of the other kids had obviously had some past training, but some were in the same boat as Delanie. It didn't matter. It was hard. We both wanted to go out there and help her. Do not worry, we remained calmly in our seats.
Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, they switched to a shooting drill, which she ROCKED at. For a while we were feeling much more at ease. Scott was still swearing up and down that the first thing he was going to do when he got home was to set up some dribbling drills for Delanie to work through each day.
As I was listening to him go on and on about how he was going to make her the star, I couldn't help but notice a few things. First, Delanie didn't care at all that she was having a hard time. In fact, I don't even think she noticed one bit. She ran up and down that gym, chasing the ball she was supposed to be dribbling, with a grin so big it lit up the whole place. Secondly, and almost more importantly, my perfectionistic daughter never gave up. Not once. We never saw her stop and sit in the middle of the gym floor pouting and complaining, "I can't do it!". Nope, it didn't happen. Instead she giggled, ran, laughed out loud, cheered, gave high-fives, and tried her best all hour long.
When it was all done, we asked if she had fun. She said she loved it. She immediately put on the team shirt, that was passed out after practice, over her sweat suit, and wore it proudly to lunch. She talked about practice for the rest of the day, and can't wait to go back next Saturday.
Thankfully, there have been no dribbling drills since then, like promised. I think she could coach me through a few drills though.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
You Need a What?
Today was kindergarten registration for the school in our neighborhood, and Delanie will be starting kindergarten in August of this year. As if I didn't already take this whole school thing seriously enough, they require quite a bit from you just to get enrolled. I wanted to make sure I was there on time, and with all my ducks in a row. I am a responsible, with-it, put together parent. Right?
Wrong.
They needed 3 very important documents to get her registered:
1. A Birth Certificate--validates child's age
2. A Deed of Trust for your home--to prove residency
3. An immunization record--to prove your child won't infect the entire free world with some sort of nastiness.
I thought OK, I've got this handled. I just need to get Scott on the ball with that whole Deed of Trust thing, and we're covered.
Because I am so "with it" and organized, I didn't get my documents together until the night before. Deed of Trust...Check! Immunization record...Check! Birth Certificate.....I don't have one of those!
That's ridiculous I thought! What with it, loving mother doesn't have a birth certificate for their child? Apparently, me.
I looked EVERYWHERE for one. About half-way through the search, I realized I don't even know what one looks like. I mean, I am sure it will say on the top BIRTH CERTIFICATE, but am I looking for an envelope, is it folded, does it have a gold seal or something? I honestly could not remember what it looked like or if I had ever seen it.
Maybe I was supposed to send away for it after Delanie was born? Did they give me instructions for this type of thing at the hospital and I was too out of it to remember? Is this just something we're supposed to know as parents, and Scott and I missed a lesson?
I asked Scott if he knew anything about this type of stuff. "No hon, I relegate all of this type of mom stuff to you." Oh great! A birth certificate is a "Mom's Responsibility"...a with it, organized, knows what she's doing, "Mom's Responsibility".
Since Pax was born in this house, all of his belongings from birth are in one area. I went to find his to see if I could jog my memory a bit. I found the one the hospital sent us home with. Phew...at least I am scoring 50%, right? That's what I thought, at least.
I went to registration anyways, with my head hung low, knowing I was going to have to admit I didn't have a birth certificate for my baby. What would they say? Would they scowl at me? Laugh? Insist I must be mistaken, and I should go home and check again?
Right there at the table there was a sign saying you must have all 3 aforementioned items, and the birth certificate must be the original. NO COPIES ALLOWED. It MUST have the raised gold seal. No hospital certificates accepted.
GOLD SEAL! Paxton's birth certificate didn't have a gold seal...it was a Hospital Certificate. As I stood there in horror of the realization that I don't have a birth certificate for either of my babies, I noticed there were other mothers standing there in line. Most of them had these really official, organized, and with it looking folders. One mom even pulled out her beloved child's birth certificate...complete with a gold seal. Well, at least I now know what one looks like. She had some other papers in there too...probably really important papers. You know, the kind of papers that are the "Mom's Responsibility". I was standing too far away to read over her shoulder and see what they were.
I have a sinking feeling we don't have those either...
Wrong.
They needed 3 very important documents to get her registered:
1. A Birth Certificate--validates child's age
2. A Deed of Trust for your home--to prove residency
3. An immunization record--to prove your child won't infect the entire free world with some sort of nastiness.
I thought OK, I've got this handled. I just need to get Scott on the ball with that whole Deed of Trust thing, and we're covered.
Because I am so "with it" and organized, I didn't get my documents together until the night before. Deed of Trust...Check! Immunization record...Check! Birth Certificate.....I don't have one of those!
That's ridiculous I thought! What with it, loving mother doesn't have a birth certificate for their child? Apparently, me.
I looked EVERYWHERE for one. About half-way through the search, I realized I don't even know what one looks like. I mean, I am sure it will say on the top BIRTH CERTIFICATE, but am I looking for an envelope, is it folded, does it have a gold seal or something? I honestly could not remember what it looked like or if I had ever seen it.
Maybe I was supposed to send away for it after Delanie was born? Did they give me instructions for this type of thing at the hospital and I was too out of it to remember? Is this just something we're supposed to know as parents, and Scott and I missed a lesson?
I asked Scott if he knew anything about this type of stuff. "No hon, I relegate all of this type of mom stuff to you." Oh great! A birth certificate is a "Mom's Responsibility"...a with it, organized, knows what she's doing, "Mom's Responsibility".
Since Pax was born in this house, all of his belongings from birth are in one area. I went to find his to see if I could jog my memory a bit. I found the one the hospital sent us home with. Phew...at least I am scoring 50%, right? That's what I thought, at least.
I went to registration anyways, with my head hung low, knowing I was going to have to admit I didn't have a birth certificate for my baby. What would they say? Would they scowl at me? Laugh? Insist I must be mistaken, and I should go home and check again?
Right there at the table there was a sign saying you must have all 3 aforementioned items, and the birth certificate must be the original. NO COPIES ALLOWED. It MUST have the raised gold seal. No hospital certificates accepted.
GOLD SEAL! Paxton's birth certificate didn't have a gold seal...it was a Hospital Certificate. As I stood there in horror of the realization that I don't have a birth certificate for either of my babies, I noticed there were other mothers standing there in line. Most of them had these really official, organized, and with it looking folders. One mom even pulled out her beloved child's birth certificate...complete with a gold seal. Well, at least I now know what one looks like. She had some other papers in there too...probably really important papers. You know, the kind of papers that are the "Mom's Responsibility". I was standing too far away to read over her shoulder and see what they were.
I have a sinking feeling we don't have those either...
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
A Walking Infomercial
My daughter has a WONDERFUL memory. At times it is so good, it frightens me. She can remember names (first and last) of people she has met only once, and really has no reason to remember. She has several of her books memorized word for word (even some that have only been read a few times), remembers dates, and can recall conversations that I wish she wouldn't. When people tell me, "Don't worry about it, she'll never remember..." I wince because I know she will.
Lately, it seems like her "thing" is commercials. She can recite entire commercials about the most random stuff. The thing that has me cracking up is that she uses lines (exact verbatim most of the time) in completely correct context while having conversations with others. Here is what our walking infomercial has to say:
me: I think we should use this body butter today instead of lotion. It has been really dry out and this will help.
Delanie: Yea, mom, when it gets cold and dry out, it can really make your skin feel tight and scratchy..you know, like a tight wool sweater. You use healing cream for that.
Scott: One last dish and we'll need to get the dishwasher started.
Delanie: You now dad, we should switch to the red power ball. It's new, and it will clean the dishes and leave a really sparkly shine. No spots either.
Scott: Really?
Delanie: Yea, next time you're at the store, you should get some.
At Target using her gift cards from her birthday:
Delanie: Oooooh look! Wets and Wiggles Baby Alive!
me: Yup...you aren't really that fond of baby dolls. I don't thing you'll like that toy.
Delanie: But, mom, she looks and acts like a real baby. She's a baby so real that when you feed her she will wet her diaper later.
Same shopping trip:
Delanie: Oh! I want some Moon Sand! Mommy, I pick Moon Sand for my present.
me: Ummm..I don't think so. It's kinda like Play Dough...kinda messy and we could only play it in the Summer time outside. Don't you want something you can play with now?
Delanie: But mommy Moon sand sticks together so there is no mess! It's a fun, clean, and easy to use!
If she tries to sell me one of those rotisserie cookers, we are really going to have to consider cutting back on TV time.
Lately, it seems like her "thing" is commercials. She can recite entire commercials about the most random stuff. The thing that has me cracking up is that she uses lines (exact verbatim most of the time) in completely correct context while having conversations with others. Here is what our walking infomercial has to say:
me: I think we should use this body butter today instead of lotion. It has been really dry out and this will help.
Delanie: Yea, mom, when it gets cold and dry out, it can really make your skin feel tight and scratchy..you know, like a tight wool sweater. You use healing cream for that.
Scott: One last dish and we'll need to get the dishwasher started.
Delanie: You now dad, we should switch to the red power ball. It's new, and it will clean the dishes and leave a really sparkly shine. No spots either.
Scott: Really?
Delanie: Yea, next time you're at the store, you should get some.
At Target using her gift cards from her birthday:
Delanie: Oooooh look! Wets and Wiggles Baby Alive!
me: Yup...you aren't really that fond of baby dolls. I don't thing you'll like that toy.
Delanie: But, mom, she looks and acts like a real baby. She's a baby so real that when you feed her she will wet her diaper later.
Same shopping trip:
Delanie: Oh! I want some Moon Sand! Mommy, I pick Moon Sand for my present.
me: Ummm..I don't think so. It's kinda like Play Dough...kinda messy and we could only play it in the Summer time outside. Don't you want something you can play with now?
Delanie: But mommy Moon sand sticks together so there is no mess! It's a fun, clean, and easy to use!
If she tries to sell me one of those rotisserie cookers, we are really going to have to consider cutting back on TV time.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Happiness
After the holidays and birthday have come to an end, we have to do our "yearly clean-out/re-org" of the kids' playroom. It is a task that takes almost all day, and it includes sweat, tears, and sometimes blood...OK, it's never included blood, but you get the picture. It isn't an easy job. I am the lucky one who is designated to do the dirty work each and every year. Scott doesn't even attempt to help because he knows his attempts will go nowhere. Since it has been almost 3 weeks since Christmas, and Delanie's birthday almost a week behind us, it was time to stop procrastinating and just get it done.
Can I just say, it is hard for me to get rid of stuff. I mean, these aren't even my toys, and I have a hard time. As I went through the books, I couldn't help but keep books that, even though we don't read, I can remember reading over and over again to my babies. I can't get rid of these books...I love them. As much as I thought "If I read this story one more time, I might go insane", I never did go insane, and I love the book, and I couldn't get rid of it.
Fear not, I did rid the toy room of much junk. I also rearranged it so it is nice and fresh...a whole new place for the kids. It feels good.
The very best thing that happened to the toy room was this sweet, wonderful, ingenious find that I spotted at Target, and convinced Delanie she wanted to use her Target gift card (from her birthday)on. She didn't even hesitate because she is my daughter...and she knows the importance of organization. She agreed we HAD to have it:
Yes, people, it is a Barbie over-the-door organizer. I may be late getting on this bus, but I was thrilled to no end to see this on the shelf at Super T.
As you can see, there is a pocket for each Barbie (enough for 15 Barbies) These pockets are critical for keeping Barbie well kept, hair perfect, and clothing un-wrinkled.
And as you can see here, we have LABELED pockets for clothing and accessories. One for tops, dresses, skirts, pants, swim suits, and one for all the shoes and accessories. This is revolutionary for us. Our previous system allowed for many missing shoes due to trying to find just the right top, and a shoe would unknowingly fling out of the case and into the carpet...lost forever. Not only that, Daddy has NO EXCUSE for not knowing how to help clean up this part of the toy room. None.
What makes me even happier? This wonderful contraption is hanging on the BACK of our playroom door where it isn't visible or taking up any space whatsoever. Also, it is hanging by one set of hooks on the top and another hook on the bottom with an adjustable strap so that it is nice and tight on the door...not swinging around smacking into the wall and flinging all the goods all over the place.
BRILLIANT.
Can I just say, it is hard for me to get rid of stuff. I mean, these aren't even my toys, and I have a hard time. As I went through the books, I couldn't help but keep books that, even though we don't read, I can remember reading over and over again to my babies. I can't get rid of these books...I love them. As much as I thought "If I read this story one more time, I might go insane", I never did go insane, and I love the book, and I couldn't get rid of it.
Fear not, I did rid the toy room of much junk. I also rearranged it so it is nice and fresh...a whole new place for the kids. It feels good.
The very best thing that happened to the toy room was this sweet, wonderful, ingenious find that I spotted at Target, and convinced Delanie she wanted to use her Target gift card (from her birthday)on. She didn't even hesitate because she is my daughter...and she knows the importance of organization. She agreed we HAD to have it:
Yes, people, it is a Barbie over-the-door organizer. I may be late getting on this bus, but I was thrilled to no end to see this on the shelf at Super T.
As you can see, there is a pocket for each Barbie (enough for 15 Barbies) These pockets are critical for keeping Barbie well kept, hair perfect, and clothing un-wrinkled.
And as you can see here, we have LABELED pockets for clothing and accessories. One for tops, dresses, skirts, pants, swim suits, and one for all the shoes and accessories. This is revolutionary for us. Our previous system allowed for many missing shoes due to trying to find just the right top, and a shoe would unknowingly fling out of the case and into the carpet...lost forever. Not only that, Daddy has NO EXCUSE for not knowing how to help clean up this part of the toy room. None.
What makes me even happier? This wonderful contraption is hanging on the BACK of our playroom door where it isn't visible or taking up any space whatsoever. Also, it is hanging by one set of hooks on the top and another hook on the bottom with an adjustable strap so that it is nice and tight on the door...not swinging around smacking into the wall and flinging all the goods all over the place.
BRILLIANT.
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