Becoming Diaper Free…Finally??? A potty blog for parents!

josephine favorite

Okay—I have an 11-year old.  She is diaper free.

Max is nearly 5.  He is diaper free.

Josephine is approaching 3 and 1/2.   As of last night, she is officially diaper free!

That’s old.  You may state.

That’s okay.  Another may add.

To both and each their own.

My little 3 year old is hilarious.  She has been advanced in walking and talking and eating and singing and bravery and living…

And not in pooping.  On the potty.

So much so that she would go for up and past 10 days, sometimes, without plopping a single drop.

One time, her constipation actually made her sick.  The doctor said—she just needs to poop.  Are you giving her anything to help her poop?

We were.  We had tried everything.  Foods, drinks, medicines…Bribery.  Tears.  Pulling out our hair.  And she still refused to poop.

Finally we had to goose the girl with a very uncomfortable czopek before she produced the results we needed — and her body immediately began to recover and heal.

Well—finally we were diaper free for pee and since she only pooped every 3-11 days, she would just tell us when she had to go.  Easy peasy pudding and pie…

Then our last pull-up disappeared one evening and we were too lazy to run to the store for more.

Josephine cried.

We cried.  (Ours, however, tears of ka-ching in our pockets—NO MORE DIAPER MONEY NEEDED)

And we refused to run and buy her a diaper.  Even when she had to potty.

Which, in our lives, was actually a really freaky thing.  We didn’t want her to be constipated.  We did not want her in pain.  We did not want to have to take her to the doctor or give her another czopek (glycerin tablet up the pupa).  We just wanted our little gal to be free.

Several days have passed since her last poopy—nerves were beginning in my mommy heart when last night—around 1am, I heard her cry out.

“Mommy, I need to pee!”

I ran into her room, raced her into the bathroom, and there she did.  HER FIRST EVER POOPY on the potty.

We immediately woke up daddy.  I am not sure he was as thrilled due to the insanely late hour of night—AND TODAY SHE RECEIVED A KINDER EGG!

A surprise for her surprise.

My friends.  If your children are a lot like my Josephine and have severe trouble pooping on the potty, please know that you are not alone.

It is a VERY hard road to walk down.

To some, it may seem like just a poop.  But to those of us in the situation, it is more that just a poop.  It is the health and well-being of our child…as well as sanity of our souls.

Give yourself a break.  Give your child a break.  And endure with great patience/pain and pray for the poop.

It’s okay to pray for the poop…

Just like it’s okay to cry when diapers are no longer in the budget 😉

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When sanity restoration begins and you already start crying…

I have been LONGING…literally LONGING for sanity for the last several years while my head has been spinning wildly in all directions except on.

And then it happened two days ago.  I took a shower—door unlocked, of course and open, while the two littles were awake and propped in front of the TV.

The thing is…I didn’t rush.  I washed my hair.  Shaved my legs…both don’t normally happen in the midst of my “ARE THE KIDS TURNING ON THE OVEN AND BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE AND RUNNING WITH SCISSORS” showers that normally take place.  One definitely has to go.  Mostly the shaving legs.  Good thing I live in Europe 😉

It was amazing.  And I didn’t feel stressed.  I occasionally would shout out, “ARE YOU OKAY????”  To which they would respond, “We’re OKAY!” And then I would enjoy the next moment of sanity…

And just as I was beginning to get nostalgic for the moments when I had to worry and live in paranoia with the “I CANT LIVE WITHOUT MOMMY” seconds that occupy my every waking moment, two littles come running in shouting, “I WANNA SHOWER WITH MOMMY!!!!!”

Clothes are stripped.  Diapers are stripped.  And I finish rinsing my hair just in time to hop out and throw two naked bottoms in—albeit crying naked bottoms—saying stuff like, “BUT I WANNA SHOWER WITH YOU, MOMMA!”

And as much as I enjoyed my freedom and sanity for those 5 minutes in the shower—I enjoyed hearing those words even more.  Because those were the longest 5 minutes of my life—knowing that my sanity was on its way to being restored—and freedom would soon again be mine.

The freedom I have been screaming for the last many years—is on the horizon—and now I’m so sad about it.

MOMMYHOOD.

Man it’s a crazy conundrum of nonsensical emotions that keeps me screaming, crying, laughing, hugging, or spinning.

AND I WANT THEM ALL TO STAY THE SAME…

Yet I want to shower in peace, too.

Sometimes there is clearly no winner in the mom game 😉

When You Don’t Want Your Children To Grow Up

mymax.com

“Now, Maxie?” Josephine shouted.

“Not yet, GoGo!” Max responded.

They were sitting on two little roller coasters that you push with your feet, waiting one for the other to go down the little slope.

And, because her big hero brother said “Not yet” she waited and said, “Okay, Maxie…”

Then he would count, “One, two, three, GO!”

Their chubby little feet would paddle the ground and they would begin the slight decline down the coaster to soar onto the open floor.

Smiles and joy and squeals accompanying their little rides.

Then one would shout, without hesitation, “Let’s do it again!”

And off they’d push their cars to the top to begin again.

Friends—my two Littles are utterly exhausting.  I’m like super tired.  And they fight.  And they roll on the ground.  And they don’t like their food to touch—or when I cut their toast the wrong way.

My eyes are held open by VERY strong coffee…

But it’s ALL so worth it.

And my stomach is already nostalgic for the future loss of my Littles.

My decade daughter, as she calls herself, was once my Little…and I enjoyed every minute of it (let’s not relish in her own toddler tantrums that also split my hairs 😉 )…

She, in all of her innocent wonder, was my sunshine on any cloudy day.  And, believe me, in Poland there are a LOT of cloudy days.

Now she’s the epitome of beauty and grace.  She is tall and slender and lovely with a touch of awkward.  And growing.  She will, without any doubt in my mind, be a beautiful, successful, creative, and compassionate young lady—I already see that in her.

But it does not mean I don’t miss my Sweet Adelyne that used to skate on flour and make tea parties for her daddy with all of her dollies.

She has phased into young lady—that, very thankfully, still likes to occasionally play dolls, too!

And as my little miracle approaches his fourth birthday, I think.  No, I know that I am already missing him.

My toddler, naked bottom Max—without a care in the world.

Can I squish him into Little-ness forever?

Probably not—but I capture every moment of each of our days—the good and bad—on the reel of my on-going memory maker—the core of my heart…because I know that, as they grow, I will enjoy each new phase—but it will not mean that I will not miss the last one.

Josephine asked Maxie if he was ready—and he said “Not yet.”

Maxie—I am not ready, yet, either.

Please don’t grow.

But just like they paddled their feet and took off, I know what fate awaits me…

Their wild ride.

***

Photo credit:  Inga Rurek

boy mom…fail????


i am a mom of one boy.  he is 3—nearly 4.  here is the current conversation in my home between my 3-yr-old boy and his 10-year-old sister:

“max—stop pretending to pee on me!”

“MOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!  max is pretending to pee on me!”

i giggle just a bit…mom fail.

10 year old again, “mom, did your brother pretend to pee on you????”

“probably and i survived.”

so then 10 year old logic tries to kick in with the 3 year old brother:

“max—you can’t really pee on me because you are wearing underwear and that means the pee will go in your underwear.”

3 year old ignores his sister…

THE NEXT THING I KNOW…

“mom,” says the 3 year old, “see that beetle!”  it appears he has moved on from harassing his sister.

i look…”sure max.”

“no, that beetle..”  he points again.

in the itty bitty crevice of our home, i spy a beetle.

“kill it mom, we don’t want a biting bug.”

i kill the nasty looking beetle that only his boy eyes apparently could spy and give him the killed beetle in tissue, it’s limbs sticking out, and say, “go throw it away.”

no hesitation.  grabs the dead bug and throws it away.

the next thing i know, “more PEZ in my ninja turtle, mom…” he says bringing me his candy, where he then proceeds to climb on my lap while i am literally typing this and says, “YEE HAW cowboy!”

and now, as i finish this last sentence, he is curled up into my lap with his head against my shoulder sweet as syrup…

wait, i take it back.  he is now pretending to eat my computer and encouraging the 2 year old to do the same.

they are making monster noises with some snorting.

this is my life in the last 3 minutes.

no wait..they are now blowing raspberries at each other.  i am wiping the spit off of the table.

oh wait.  he is back to kissing my shoulder.

no…now he’s dressing like a fireman.  and my 2 year old is now on the table.

SOOOOOOO…

so, my 10 year old may wonder why i laugh when my 3 year old is a boy being a boy…

it’s because i can’t keep up with anything else.

😉

***

okay, seriously…i have just lost my coffee in the last 2.3 seconds.  like it has disappeared somewhere into thin air.  the physical cup.  and this is how the ending of my attempt to type this blog looks… 

HAVE A GREAT DAY, FRIENDS!!!!

Peter Pan’s Shadow

bettershadow

(Source of Photo)

Remember that rascally shadow of Peter Pan’s?  The one that Peter has to chase…

Well, I was in the kitchen when I heard a bunch of “NO!” coming from my husband’s office (which is right next to the kitchen).  I looked in and saw my little 2-year-old, Josephine, standing on her daddy’s office couch trying to get rid of this stranger that was invading her space…

This pesky thing called her shadow.

It was so divinely cute that I hoped she would continue to play with her shadow until I found my phone and could record even a moment.

She did not disappoint and continued to try and persuade the shadow to leave, play hide and seek with it, and eventually extend her friendship to her shadow…

I love living through the eyes and experiences of my Littles.  Every day is a new day for new discovery!

Cheers to being more tired than I could possibly imagine—and yet happier than the birds in spring!

***

(Apparently I published quite the NON G-rated version of Peter Pan’s shadow earlier 😉   Sorry.  Picture has been deleted.  Hopefully forever.  I shall see.  I am not too cyber savvy).

Truth with Toddlers

toddlers

As most of you know, I have 3 children.  Three miraculous children.  Amazing, really.

One is 9.  Her name is Adelyne.  She’s awesome.

The next is Maxwell.  He’s 3.  He’s awesome.

The last is Josephine.  She literally just turned 2.  She’s awesome.

And my home is messy.  And naked (meaning most of us most days—no, we are not a nudist colony on purpose).  And, more often than not, my children watch too much television and eat way too much toast (that’s a step up from plain bread in my home, folks.  Step up.  Booyah!)…

And yet it is so stinking lively and fun.

My husband is currently in an Asian country far and away to receive surgery for his knee (it’s a closer and better price than sending him to the US)…and I am yet again alone.

But with toddlers are you ever REALLY alone?

Heavens no!

This morning, as my son woke up screaming because he NEEDS his momma—waking toddler youngest…I dragged them both into bed with me, where none of us then went back to sleep.

And soon I hear toddler youngest screaming, as I am finally drifting slowly into a peaceful semi-awake slumber—No!  Those are my TOES!

Yes, toes, my friends.  Her brother looked at her toes…

Later, after I finally dragged us all out of bed.  My youngest pulled out his bubble gun that makes fluffing noises (as in passing gas).

He asked, “What’s that noise, Momma?”

“That’s farter-warter noises,” I responded (our way of saying fluffer-wuffers ;))

“Oh—Farter-warters like MOMMA!”  He then proceeded to shout with glee.

There is a time for every season under the sun—and, I have to admit, while this time in my life is tiring and busy and messy and everything else related to having Littles…

I would never want to miss this season under the sun.

Oh how I love my truthful, NO shouting, honest speaking toddlers.

They make my heart complete!

How to live with the toddler tornado season of your life.

tornadoes1and2

Yesterday started and ended in a tornado.  If we had a storm cellar, I may have hidden down there.  I don’t have twins, but I have toddler-like twin tornadoes that swirl through my home daily—and I just can’t keep up.

In a few short months, I will be 40.  Did you read that correctly?  FORTY!

That’s like the beginning of Phase 2 of life.  And I feel great and look so forward to it.

But there is this thing.  Having a baby at 30 versus 40 is a new ballgame.  It’s like the NBA Stars in their prime versus the Dancing Grannies that move and kick at all rhythms, even though they are suppose to be kicking together.

I am kicking at my own rhythm and the toddlers are not kicking with the nearly 40-year-old me.

And when I feel worn down, I look the tornadoes in their faces and realize that, although I am in the eye of their storm, too quickly this storm will pass—and I will miss the mess!

I feel as if I failed miserably raising my first daughter who is now 9 (my toddler-like-twin tornadoes are respectively 1 & 1/2 and 3).  I feel like I pushed her too hard, disciplined her too much, and expected her to grow too quickly.

Perhaps I feel as if I had to prove to the world that I was a fantastic 1st time mom?  Perhaps I had to feel as if I had the world’s greatest daughter?  Perhaps I just had too many expectations for myself in my mind—even though everyone around me told me to Stop.  Enjoy.  Love.  Care.  Laugh.  Don’t stress.  And Just be.

But I didn’t heed any of their advice.  Before I knew it, my daughter was no longer the tornado toddler, and I miss every naked moment when she was running around in nothing but pink cowboy boots or singing and skating in flour skating rinks on the kitchen floor.

I miss the days when she invited the dogs to sit at the table to eat with us.

And I miss the days when she told me I was greater than Santa and any present he may bring.

Therefore, although I am nearly 10 years past the birth of my oldest — and far more feeling 40 than 30 — technically “nearly” the middle-aged mom of toddlers — I am TRYING … OH TRYING SO HARD — to get it right this time.

If you feel as if your life is a toddler tornado zone—remember me.  And remember how I already miss the toddler tornado moments because I have already seen one child exit the zone and have come out on the other side.  Oh how I wish that I could relive every moment with her in that tornado again.

I would actually throw open that cellar door and run out into the storm with her and say, “OH!  Look!  It’s snowing inside again, is it?!”  And simply vacuum up the baby powder that dusted her doll house and carpet later.

Because, after all, how much longer will she truly believe that it snows inside?

But my other 2, my toddlers, are still there—living every moment of that beautiful snowball of imagination.  Yesterday reminded me how glorious their brilliant imaginations are—and I intend, in my aging and wiser years, to soak it up this time.

And not rush it out.

I hope you throw open the storm cellar and run into the tornado with your toddlers.  May snow grace their bedrooms and monsters be slayed in the halls.

May little Batman briefs and diapers with tutus grace your living rooms…

And may crumbs tumble onto your floors.

Because the toddler storm will end and your house will seem far too clean and quiet—and you will wonder where time went.

Seize the day, my toddler mom friends.  Which means—you will hardly get to eat, sit, shower, or breathe—but seize the day in toddler imaginations, mess, and a good ol’ squeeze them tight and watch them squeal sort of day.

Enjoy your storms.

I do!

***

Here is my Facebook post from yesterday where I was inspired to enjoy the tornado versus get myself upset over the newfound work before me:

i walk up the stairs during maxwell and josephine’s nap time —this is what i find:

max in the hallway in his batman pajamas, hello kitty pink ballerina shoes, and gold princess gloves—wielding a pop-gun “sword” shouting, “I am fighting the monsters, mom!”

to which i think—is josephine sleeping? 

so i walk into their room — where i find:

josephine trapped in her bed, standing up, , wearing a ballerina skirt and superman baseball hat shouting “UP! UP!”

i don’t stop there—i look around the room === this is what i see:

fish and turtle food everywhere.

every clean sheet that was once (only a mere hour earlier) tucked away waiting for the future use—strewn about the floor covered in fish food and turtle food.

but at least max is keeping our house free of monsters, right?  wink emoticon

hope your day is made up of the most beautiful of memories. i know mine is! 

AND THEN THIS HAPPENED:

and the night ended with baby powder all over the floor—because, you know, it snowed 😉 haha!  #whenthemessendsiwillmissit