Potty time

So . . . we've decided it's about time.  Probably in the next weeks, we're going to start potty training.    Well, not us specifically, because believe it or not, we're actually quite good at using the toilet.   But G and I are thinking that it's time to get the little D on board, as well.  It's early.  Looks like most people don't really start until their kids are over 2, maybe two and a half.  Ok, so there are people that start at birth, which sounds kind of kooky (google "elimination communication" to read all about it).  But otherwise, two and a half seems to be about the earliest I've heard people say they've tried it.  So maybe we're setting ourselves up for failure.  And I think we might be at a little more of a disadvantage since D can't walk yet.  At this point, the most we'd be able to do is have her tell us when she wants to go, and we'd go set her on the toilet seat.  Most of the sites that I've been reading seem to assume that the child can get himself to the bathroom and help undress, as well.  And the techniques that I've been reading about seem to assume a certain level of comprehension:  a child who can understand that she messed up if she has an accident, can help clean up, etc.

But there's nothing I like more than a challenge.  Actually, it's something that we've been thinking about for a while.  With D's kidney reflux, the earlier we can potty train, the better.  I guess the theory is that the more a child can learn to urine purposefully/all at once, rather than in trickles throughout the day, the less urine refluxing overall.  So it's been in the back of our minds for a while that maybe we should try to start.  And, for months now, daycare has been putting D on the toilet whenever the older kids go.  Most of the time now, when they leave her long enough, she'll go!  So her teacher has been saying for months that potty training is going to be so easy with this one.  Plus, she'll tell us when she poops (our kid, I mean, not the daycare teacher).  Sometimes, I think she confuses her pee as poops, and usually, she doesn't say anything until after she's gone, but still that's a step in the right direction.  And, she can spot the dogs pooping and peeing from a mile away.  "Mia, poo poo?" she'll ask, well aware now of what happens on our walks.  I've also been working on helping her differentiate pooping vs. tooting, and coming along rather well at it.

So in January, G bought a little portable potty, and I started asking daycare for more specifics.  But I didn't love what I was hearing.  Apparently, they let her sit there for 20-30 minutes, because sometimes that's what the other kids do.  And then they'll check at some point and find that there was poop or pee in the toilet.  I don't have that kind of patience.  And anyway, I tried setting her on our toilet at home and she cried in seconds.  Plus have you seen those little portable potties?  SO gross.  Cleaning them seems so disgusting.  At daycare, they have these adorable little baby toilets that flush and everything.  I started to wonder if this might be a job best left for professionals.   And anyway, all this was before our last round of hospitalizations.  With the prospect of surgery now to fix the reflux altogether, it may be a moot point anyway.

Somehow, though, the idea has persisted and we're finally ready to give it a shot.  We returned the portable potty and bought one that just attaches to the regular toilet.  I've tried setting the kid on it a few times, and she's usually cried.  So yesterday, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea. She's kind of (bizarrely) in love with Elmo these days (I say, bizarre because we couldn't figure out how she even knew him), so I found a youtube video of baby Elmo using the potty.  Yes, there really is nothing that can't be found on the internet.  If you're looking for something to drive you absolutely bonkers, find this video and listen to it over and over again.  I guarantee you that it'll get the job done.  So I set her on the toilet and played the video on the phone.  She loved it.  She didn't pee or poop but stayed on the toilet for like 10 minutes watching the video over and over again (see?  this is how I know about bonkers).

We did this a few times yesterday, and she seemed to completely lose her aversion to the toilet.  I was proud until I read online that it's actually a terrible idea to play videos while your kid's sitting in the toilet.  Basically, you don't want them so distracted that they forget to actually do their business. Which probably explained why she didn't go once in the toilet yesterday, even though we sat her on it several times.  The point of the article seemed to be especially driven home this morning.  When D woke up, she asked to go sit on the potty!  I mean not right away, but later, while we were laying around in bed, she asked for the potty and lifted her arms to be taken there!  I was SO SO proud, thinking, man, maybe our kid is totally ready after all.  So we went through the entire production of getting out of bed, taking off her footy pajamas (which are definitely NOT conducive to potty training), and setting her on the toilet.  She sat there for all of 4 seconds, smiling joyfully, before asking, "Emo?"  The little turd just wanted her video!!  Needless to say, she did not pee in the toilet, and I'm guessing she didn't have to go at all.  Honestly, it was just long enough after waking up that she probably did all her peeing into her diaper, so that should have been a tip off right there that she was just yanking our chains.

But still, the weekend hasn't been a total waste.   I sat her on the toilet one more time this morning.  She still didn't do anything, but she reached over for the toilet paper, grabbed a bit, and started wiping her crotch!  It was super cute.  I think issues with walking and Elmo aside, she's ready in the ways that matter.  She knows what she's supposed to do and seems to have an interest in doing it.  So it can't hurt to give it a go.  We'll probably keep trying haphazardly for now, but then start in earnest one of the next few weekends when we have absolutely no plans.  I want to make sure I know what I'm doing so that I don't get her hooked on more Elmo videos as incentive.  She has her urology appointment in about a week, so I want to see if surgery's going to interfere in some way.  And I want to make sure that we're on the same page as daycare.  So we'll see how it all goes!

living with a hoarder

So I love my husband, I do, I do. But one of my biggest pet peeves about him is that he LOVES to buy. And somewhat related to that, he can’t stand to throw anything away. Now, I’m someone who may keep things for a while, but will periodically go on cleaning frenzies where I’ll toss out my left foot if I decide that I haven’t used it for a while. So obviously, I don’t get this particular trait AT ALL. I’m pretty sure G’s got boxes of term papers from college, ashtrays made when he was 5, and receipts dating back to the dark ages. Because yes, he’s that old.

On the buying front, our garage also contains enough garbanzo beans to feed an army, cases of various juices that just “sounded good” but turned out to be disgusting, and diapers for when the little D turns 5 (because Cost-Co happened to be having a sale and who cares if she can’t wear a size 10 just yet). If the world is engulfed in a nuclear war, our family will be able to sustain ourselves in our garage for a good month. Assuming of course that we’re able to get to anything with all the other stuff piled over it. Last week, I had do some acrobatics (climbing over boxes, squeezing through stacks of who knows what) to reach a little bag of rice that was in our garage cupboard. Every effort I make to clean out our freezers so I can actually see what’s in there is countered by, “Oh look at that! There’s more room for more stuff. Awesome!” As many of you know, G is probably one of Cost-co’s best customers (and best returners, because he’ll be eventually able to scrounge up a receipt from 5 years ago to return that box of almonds we bought back then and opened but decided we didn’t like).

The other night, I was clearing one of our end tables in preparation for the maids and came across a weird box of black charcoal-y looking things. Included in the vicinity was some paperwork from some lab of some sort. Assuming it was junk mail, I started to throw it away. But no, it turned out it was a valuable test ordered by my husband to check the presence of radon in our homes.

“What does that mean?” I asked, because I'm such an excellent communicator that way.

“What do you mean, what does it mean? It tests for radon.”

“Yeah, but what makes you think we have radon in our homes?"

“I don’t know. We might.”

“What is radon anyway and how would we have gotten it in our homes?”

“I don’t know, I guess sometimes it’s just there.”

“I don’t get it. I mean, radon is a gas right? Does it emanate from the stove tops?”

“I DON’T know.”

“How does the test work?”

“I don’t know. You test and send out for the results.”

And round and round we went. I honestly wasn’t trying to give him the third degree to start. I was just perplexed and curious about how this sudden need to test our house, but G’s short responses just frustrated me more and more. It was only about 10 minutes into this rigmarole that I realized that G wasn’t trying to be evasive. Clearly, this is what happened: he saw something somewhere talking about radon emissions and decided to send out for the test. This could have been anywhere from a few months to a year ago. Since then, he’d forgotten all about it. But of course didn’t have the heart to toss the test out because who knows why it sounded important to him at the time. And possibly my endless questioning frustrated him because he couldn’t remember jack squat.
This is how most of the junk around our house piles up. At some time or another, it sounded “cool.” At any given time, you could come over to our house and we’d be able to scrounge up all kinds of snacks that we haven’t eaten because we simply haven’t remembered that we had them at all. When my mom was here, she mentioned that she found some cashew things under the laundry in the garage, and she hoped she didn’t mind but she broke open the bag to have some. The little D likes bubbles, so of course someone went out and bought not your average soap bottle/bubble blower but a monster, battery-operated bubble shooter. That we can’t use in the house because it leaves a soapy residue throughout the entire room. So of course now, it sits in the garage after we used it for maybe 10 minutes.

Our fights on the issue follow pretty much the same pattern. I complain, G might stop for a while, and then, within a few weeks, buy more. Or he finds ways around my complaints. For example, I told him he wasn’t allowed to buy food at Cost-co until we make a dent in what we already have.  He's abided by that rule, but later in the week, shipments started to arrive from Amazon containing, you guessed it, food. None of it is perishable, is probably his favorite defense. We could have it for years before it goes bad.

So, any tips for living with a hoarder/compulsive shopper?

In other news (i.e. come on now, I'm entitled to a little gushing)

Aside from her being sick all the time and probably having the worst luck ever when it comes to medical issues, I gotta say that our kid is pretty darn awesome.  At 20 months, she's definitely not a baby anymore.   There are so many moments now that I look at her and I see the little toddler staring back at me.  She knows what she wants and asks for it, though often imperfectly.  It's kind of amazing to watch the transformation, although I have a feeling that I'll always miss our baby.  

This morning, she got up at 5:30 (fun times) looking for her doggie blanket.  Usually, she'll do this periodically through the night.  She loves her blankie but loses it constantly. If she wakes up and it's not there, she'll kind of cry a little, crawl around for it and then eventually find it or not, but still go back to sleep.  But this morning, there was no crying.  Instead, there was this, "Doggie??!?  Doggie!  Doggie!"  I glanced at the monitor and saw her sitting up and reaching around and finally sent G in to find it for her.  The half sleeping cries are much easier to ignore than the demands we heard this morning.  But then once he was in there, she decided that she also wanted "Mi"  (milk) so it was all a done deal.  I think we both resigned ourselves to not sleeping the rest of the morning.  When I peed and made my way to the kitchen, G was already warming the milk, and the little D was smiling happily, like it wasn't 5:30 in the morning. 

When I went to pick her up from daycare yesterday, she was riding a little bike around in circles outside.  A little boy bumped past her on his own vehicle, and she looked at him and said, "OW" although I know it didn't hurt.  She saw me and scuttled over but didn't want to leave.  It was windy and there was a tree above us with pretty little flowers that kept blowing off.  "Flower,"  she said, pointing to the petals.  Or something like that, it probably sounded more like "owwa."  I reached up and plucked a few off the tree to hand to her, and before I knew it, a bunch of the other kids wanted one too.  So I grabbed a few more and started distributing.  And my kid clutched her own flowers a little more tightly while simultaneously pointing to the other kids and said, "mine."  

At home, too, she has several bike-type toys, and they've quickly become her favorite.  She'll push along through the whole house, sitting on her trike or ladybug.  Choo-choo, she'll say from her train, or beep beep from the other ones.  Beep, beep, she'll tell the dogs if they're in her way, or the wall if she happens to hit it.  Or sometimes, she'll use them to get closer to the dogs. Yesterday, she went towards Tucker wanting to give him a kiss.  "To-tor" she kept saying, while smacking her lips and wheeling towards him.  Totor just got nervous and left.  Probably because he knows that her love is fickle.  One minute she might be trying to kiss the dogs, the next she'll be pushing them off their beds to take their place.  Or, "go" she'll say, pointing her fingers, a new one she learned from my mom last week.  "Go" she'll tell me too, if I'm getting a little too close.   

Last week, my mom was here and watching her during the day.  One morning, I had her with me while I was grabbing some socks from my dresser, and she happened to see a hat in the drawer.  "Hat?" she said, reaching for it.  I took it out and tried to put it on her head.  No, she said, mama?"  So I put it on and grabbed one of hers from her room.  A cute little green one.  Tried to put it on her head and she said no.  But later, that morning, my mom said she reached for it again and tried to put it on, saying all the while, "Mama hat."  

She throws tantrums like you wouldn't believe.  Last week, she wanted to vacuum, and I let her crawl around for a while, pushing the vacuum along.  If she'd been more effective at it, I'd have let her go at it all day.  But instead, I tried to finally put a stop to it and she wailed and screamed and yelled.  But just as often, her tantrums are of the stubborn type, the refusal to do something she doesn't want to do, quiet but determined.  

No thanks, I don't want to get up just yet, please.  One more "boop?" 

She loves her "boops" and can sit around for long stretches, just looking at the pictures.   She also loves music and dance, and will often ask for music in the background while we're playing or eating.  "eh" she'll say, swaying back and forth.  G started playing her hip hop and rap, and our kid can get jiggy with it with the best of them.  Once, we saw her in the back seat, her blankie in her hand, her thumb in her mouth, dancing to Eminem.  Clearly, only the best for our girl.  And I have no idea where she gets it from, seeing as how G and I both have 2 left feet. 

Diya and Dada, listening to some tunes

The other day, I was doing something in the kitchen while she was hanging out in the family room.  Peep a boo, she said, peering from around the side of the couch.  Or, "horse" she'll say and point to our heads, meaning she wants to ride around the house on our shoulders.  Everyday seems more fun than the one before.  She still doesn't walk, but her legs have gotten closer and closer together.  She seems to need less and less assistance to stand and takes every opportunity to do so.  And aside from the slowed mobility, she's right on track.  Everyday, she learns a new word and starts to use it.  Everyday, she'll decide something else is fun and just can't get enough of it.  And she'll laugh and laugh and laugh while doing it, especially if it scares the crap out of us, like her new habit of riding the ends of the couch.  This week, it's coming out with me to feed the dogs.  Down, she'll tell them sternly as I'm getting the food, and then, "stay."   And when finally, they're "ready" she'll look at me, smiling, so proud of her accomplishment.  At her last well-child visit at 18 months, our ped said anywhere from 6-20 words were normal at that age.  I tried to make a list and came up with more than 50.  And I'm guessing that's doubled since then. 

Serving tea -- When you're finished with your cup, she'll ask, "Meore?" and give you more.  Sometimes, she'll drink straight from the kettle.  You know, when she's especially thirsty. 

She wants to do everything on her own, but suddenly, doesn't mind asking for "help."  I gave her coffee once while in India (like a teaspoon of it), and now she's hooked.  "Offee?"  she'll ask if she sees me with a mug.  Or grinding the beans.  Or, the other day, when G walked in with Starbucks.  How the heck does she know, we wonder?  And if she's lucky enough to get a sip, "mmm" she'll say, and then "Meore?"  (more). 

It's crazy to me how much fun this is.  And this is coming from some one who's been up from 5:30 this morning.   And spent the wee hours being jumped on and poked and prodded while the kid  basically made sure everyone in the household was wide awake.  Think of how much more I must love her on a full night of sleep.  But even with all the doctor's visits and hospital stays, our kid's pretty darn good at being a regular kid.  And is just about the smartest, most cheerful, adorable, and perfect thing there is.  

So check out how close her legs are here . . . even a few months ago, she'd have been standing with her legs wide apart like a gymnast.  Clearly we've come a long way.  BTW, we LOVE it when she decides to climb on the couch like this.  Totally awesome, and not at all unsafe.