Saturday, June 11, 2011

An Artist

Not sure what got me thinking about this the other day but I thought of Mitch growing up and what he'll think and remember. In particular, what he might think of me, his mom. What did I hope for? Of course I think both Vince and I influence his personality but perhaps me more so as I spend a good amount of time with him. I do hope he thinks of me as a strong independent person. But more than that, I hope he thinks of me as an artist...as his cool mom...a mom that played with him lots.

Mommy, I Peeped

Since the last week of April, we’ve upped the anty on Mitch’s potty training efforts. For a year it’s been start, stop, interest, waned interest, understanding, lack thereof. I was waiting for him to take the initiative (naturally), for him to show us that he was ready. I hit a breaking point in late April. Sick of laziness, mixed interest, and changing diapers, we embarked on a massive effort. It involved gathering the following: five packs of five little boy underpants purchased from Amazon, the raiding of a few outgrown children’s sales for extra shorts and pants, a few reward stickers, and books for the potty.

The first two days were epic fails. By the third day, thanks to his fabulous caregivers at daycare, we had a schedule: every 25-30 min. he tries. There are still accidents but that schedule has alleviated all clean clothes from being soiled. We are about six weeks in and he’s still teetering on telling us before he actually goes. The big accomplishment this past week has been getting him to poo on the potty. Another lengthy activity, it involves sitting him down and bringing in a few books as it takes a good ten minutes from start to finish.

It’s certainly frustrating some days. And when we go out – to the circus or the zoo – and bathroom amenities are limited or uncertain, I break down and do a diaper or pull-up. I realize it isn’t a step back but rather a side step to prevent complete mess. I learned that the hard way at Plays & Players Theatre during a kids’ performance.

As my colleague Jenny would say, pretty soon it’ll be “Get your coat, we’re leaving!” as he’ll be trained and less likely to need a nap. And while I suspect I’ll be glad to leave some of the yuckier mom moments behind me, I see now at three how amazing this little person is with each milestone. And I’ll miss the “Mommy, I peeped” moments and him staring down at his pants, covered in pee.