The one where I admit I am to blame.
I’ve tried stickers.
I’ve tried bubbles.
I’ve tried M&Ms.
I bought big girl undies.
In all different shades and characters.
I’ve promised school.
I’ve promised big girl beds.
Nothing is working!
Nothing!
I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do.
Actually. I do. It’s my fault. My procrastination and laziness has been the weak link in this project.
This weekend, we had several accidents on the carpet in our living room. Peanut withheld for a day and then woke in the middle of the night, announcing her accomplishment by shouting into the dark, “Change my diaper please!” Pie regressed. Where she had before been exemplary at doing #1 in the potty, she was found clueless, uninterested and damp several times throughout the weekend. I admit, I only half-assed it. We were supposed to stay home all weekend, but balmy weather and restless Beans meant that we weren’t happy sitting at home and waiting for the Potty-fairy to work her magic.
Last night, we had what I think was a small success. Peanut, who was the one that wouldn’t even place her bum on the potty, went. J and I were initially unsure if it was bathwater or actual pee that poured itself into the toilet. I choose to think it was the latter and so I rewarded Peanut with a few minutes on the deck with the bottle of bubbles.
I think I was a little too cocky, going into this adventure. After all, these were the girls that were sleeping through the night by nine weeks and that kicked the bottle and the pipe by fourteen months. Maybe I thought this would go just as smoothly. So far, I haven’t really had to work at this motherhood thing. I mean, aside from the daily chores and physical and mental exhaustion and all that, I can honestly say that motherhood has been a lot easier for me than I ever anticipated. I’ve been blessed with two very easy-going, quick learning children. I never had to struggle with colic, we had few colds and illnesses compared to my friends’ children. I didn’t have sleep issues and, because of their low weight, I have been lucky to be able to feed them anything and everything within reason, in order to increase their caloric intake. Life couldn’t be easier, having these two for children.
So, maybe I thought that potty-training would go just as easily. Maybe I assumed that we’d glide through this as we have through other milestones. Whatever it is, I am now in the grips of my first breakdown of motherhood. So, here’s me, taking the blame. Realizing it’s my fault. Figuring out that I actually have to work at this. And, here’s the thing: I’m going to be better; I’m going to stop giving the girls mixed signals; I’m going to stop starting and stopping and confusing them altogether; I’m going to be patient and understanding and I’m going to accept that this isn’t going to just happen without work.
And then, when they are fully potty-trained, I’m going to take my diaper money and buy myself a great bottle of wine.
An umbrella shouldn’t be so pretty…
otherwise you’ll want it to rain all day long.
Bedtime. Lately.
7:45 p.m.: One last cup of milk for the Beans, to get an extra dose of calories into them.
8:10 p.m.: Fishy time. A’s nightly date with the nebulizer.
8:15 p.m.: The Pie, sensing what is looming, looks out the window and protests, “But it’s not dark out yet!”
8:16 p.m. to 8:21 p.m.: J and I, on the floor of the living room, try to coax, threaten, bully and plead with the Beans to “get over here now and get your jammies on”!
8:22 p.m.: I look at the clock and remind J that it is almost past their bedtime.*
8:23 p.m. to 8:28 p.m.: I get into a tickle war with Pie and J gives me the, “I thought we were supposed to calm them down and not get them riled up,” look.
8:29 p.m. to 8:39 p.m.: Teeth-brushing time, complete with singing the song that J has repeatedly informed me is technically incorrect and possibly dangerous:
Brushing your teeth all day long,
Makes your teeth big and strong.
Brushing your teeth every day,
Makes those cavities go away.
Hey, it works. Whatever.
8:40 p.m. to 8:43 p.m.: The search for both Duckies and both Cookies. One night, this is going to end in disaster.
8:44 p.m. to 8:54 p.m.: Finally in the nursery, I settle down on the floor with the Beans to read a story, while J refills the humidifier.
8:55 p.m. to 9:00 9:05 p.m.: The Beans hug and kiss. J and I give hugs, kisses and a boop** to each girl, and then switch. Then each girl demands a high five.
Then a kiss from Avery.
Then we convince them that Max is too heavy to lift into the crib.
Then we leave, only to hear A call out softly, “Momma?”
“Yes, Audie?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too baby. Go to sleep.”
“But Momma?”
“Aud!”
“I love you! And I love my daddy.”
“We love you too…”
“Momma!”
“Mag-”
“What you doing?”
“Go to bed Maggie! Talk to your sister if you don’t want to sleep!”
“Okay Momma. Daddy?”
…
…
…
“Daahhh-deeeee!”
9:06 p.m.: Finally.
*We tell everyone that their bedtime is 8:30 p.m. It used to be. Now it’s just a goal that we hope to reach again one day.
**From “Superbad”. Don’t ask.
My Free Day
On Saturday, I had what I haven’t had in over two and a half years. A day to myself.
Last year, J and I went on vacation without the Beans, but I still had obligations. I was still required to care for someone. Occasionally, I get a chance to catch up with friends, but I may bring the girls along.
But this day…this day was mine to do whatever I wanted. Earlier in the week, my parents informed me that they’d be taking the Beans to a friend’s new ice cream shop and then to the park. That’s what they do. They take my children and I’m welcome to come along if I like. This time, I said no. This Saturday was also J’s required Saturday to work, so I was going to be all alone until 5:00 p.m. My toes curled in anticipation!
I dropped the girls off at my parents’ in the morning after we saw J off to work. They asked again if I’d like to come along and I shook my head a little too hard, I think. This day was mine! I told J and myself that I would use it to give the house a much needed spring cleaning and I repeated the prepared speech to my parents as I skipped out of their house, barely stopping to plant light kisses on the tops of my Beans’ heads. Beans who had already dismissed me and were busy convincing their grandparents that they should leave for ice cream immediately.
When I got in the car and turned my mix from the iPod on, I sighed. Free. For the day at least. I thought about what I would do next. Did I really want a nap at 11:00 a.m.? Maybe. Instead, I drove over to Starbucks and indulged in an iced coffee. After that, I wandered over to the mall to get my eyebrows waxed and return an outfit that I had planned on wearing to Tracy’s shower. When I arrived at the salon, I was told that there was a half hour wait. Pfft! I’m waiting for no one today! It’s my day. I tried on a couple of tops without having to crawl under dressing room doors to find one girl or to shush another who is about to shout something inappropriate [Side note: This has been happening a lot lately! Example: When seeing an elderly woman walking towards us at Costco, Maggie exclaimed, “Look at that angry face, Momma!”] and I walked right by Children’s Place without a moment’s thought. And, I bought something! For myself!
After the mall, I drove over to the nursery just up the street from our house. I wandered slowly up and down the aisles, trying to determine which species of flowers I wouldn’t kill the quickest. I smiled as exasperated parents ran after mischievous children. I picked out four flats, waited in a ridiculously long line and finally made it home with my purchases.
I knew the girls would be upset if I didn’t save some impatiens for them to plant, so I spent most of the remaining part of my day planting the flowers around the deck. Without interruption. Every once in awhile, I stood back and admired my work, sure that I would never have been able to get so much done with Beans and J around.
Satisfied with my gardening, I collapsed on the couch to give Max and Avery some much needed puppy love. Too soon, the phone rang and my dad informed me that they were home and the girls were hungry. For food, for me and for J. I lingered around the house a little longer than I needed to and then made my way back to my parents’ house. The girls were happy to see me and to tell me about their day. They didn’t miss me one bit.
I didn’t tell anyone that my eyes welled up a little on the escalator at the mall. Behind a little girl and her mom, I eavesdropped as they discussed plans to meet up with her daddy for lunch. And, I didn’t tell anyone that my final decision on flowers were the Jelly Bean mix of petunias because of their appropriate name and because they contained both blue and yellow flowers. M&A will tell anyone who wants to know that their favorite colors are blue and yellow, respectively. And, finally, I didn’t tell anyone that, as nice as it was to spend the day alone and free of responsibility, I’d really rather spend it wiping sticky faces, chasing runaways, sharing iPods and just plain being with my Beans.
Winner of the Mother of the Week Award
Not Momma Bean, who decided to become adventurous and try different! and new! coffee. And had this conversation with her eldest:
MB: “My coffee tastes like ass.”
Pie: “What kind of ass Momma?”
MB: “Never mind.”
Momma = Me
It’s Mother’s Day this weekend and time for me to reflect. I’m a mom! It continues to amaze me, the things I’ve discovered in these two and a half years of motherhood.
I found patience.
I know how to cook.
I can’t finish a book in less than a week any longer.
The Wiggles and Jack Johnson are the most played artists on my iPod.
I know how to draw a lion.
I work part time.
I garden.
I rarely eat at restaurants that use cloth napkins anymore.
Hiding half my body under a throw blanket counts as a great hiding spot.
Sidewalk chalk is awesome.
I choose sensible shoes for (gasp!) comfort now.
I sometimes forget to check my mail for a week.
I know what muffin top is now.
I can’t watch the news.
My handbags all have Purell hidden in a pocket.
I only ever see three quarters of a movie anymore.
I shop at mom-to-mom sales for “outside toys”.
Routine isn’t so boring anymore.
I pick other peoples’ boogies.
I have magic in my kisses that make bruises and pain go away.
I do playdates.
I bristle when they call me “Mom”.
I love when you ask me to see pictures of the girls.
Chasing after Beans = workout.
I appreciate my mother more every day.
It only takes 2.75 glasses of wine to get me drunk anymore.
I love being a mom.
I love being Mom.
Oklahoma 2008
Last week, we flew to Oklahoma to meet Baby Logan and to see my sister and her family. For the weeks leading up to it, the girls would talk to my sisters every day, making plans about what they would do when they got together.
And, they had a ball. While we were wandering around the Will Rogers International Airport (which, by the way, is smaller than my high school), J and I looked at the girls and then I suggested that we sneak off on a flight to the Caribbean because I don’t think we would have been missed even for a second. The Beans had their aunts. They had their cousin. They had Uncle Map. They were shy for a full thirty seconds and then they remembered that these women were the ones who call them every day and sometimes magically appear on Momma’s computer to wave hello and to sing a song with them. This was Jack’s home - the home of their hero, their buddy, their cousin. This was Baby Logan, the one they had been waiting for, the one who was in Reesa’s belly and then wasn’t. So, they decided to put up their feet and stay awhile.
We went to the Wildlife Refuge, the Oklahoma City Zoo and to one of Jack’s baseball games. The rest of the time was spent at home…or Sonic. I found the love of my life there, you see. A Diet Coke with a shot of vanilla. I’ve tasted heaven and it’s a thousand miles, roundtrip.
Pie proved yet again that she is a born caretaker. I’m thinking she’ll either be a rock star or a nurse when she grows up. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Logan, except to play Guitar Hero.
Peanut wasn’t as taken with LoLo but it was only because she’s just like me. Babies scare me. I forget that I had two at the same time. It took me some time to even hold him and once I got around to it, I was still sure that he was absolutely annoyed with me. Peanut kept her distance as well, only coming close enough to give him a peck on the forehead and to determine that he stinks. (She has a strong sense of smell. Everything insults her nose, so you can only imagine what she was like at the zoo.) She was appalled when she helped Dada change his diaper, peering into it an announcing to everyone that he has a boo-boo. I knew she would be shocked by what she saw and warned everyone in advance, but it didn’t stop us from laughing when she simultaneously pointed and cringed.
The plane rides, their second, were thankfully uneventful. Like before, I worried that, as soon as we boarded, we would be met with angry stares and angrier Beans, but we received nothing of the sort. J and I assigned ourselves a girl prior to the trip and we armed ourselves with new toys and two spiffy new sippy cups to distract them. We barely needed them on the way there and didn’t need them at all on the way back, as the four of us drifted to sleep as soon as the flight attendant brought us our requested blankets. On the way there, the girls were each busy looking out their own windows and marveling at the clouds around them. It was only when we began our descent that I began to get a little bit nervous. Not because they began crying, but because they began teasing each other and bursting into peals of laughter that vibrated throughout the fifty passenger jet. It was contagious though and everyone around us peered to see what was so funny and chuckled to themselves to see that it was absolutely nothing except for a couple of giddy sisters, excited about their new adventure.
This weekend, back at home and into our routine, A was bored. I was talking to them about what we should do that afternoon for fun and A promptly suggested from her car seat, “Let’s go to Reesa’s house!” A stellar review if I ever heard one.
