Regarding same-sex marriage

The whole same-sex marriage thing gets me all worked up. And seeing yet another failure for equal rights to get passed in Maine makes me sad. So without further ado:

Let's talk about the whole same-sex marriage thing. Let's stop and think about this for a few minutes, shall we? Because, really, what we're talking about is love. The right of one person to love another. And whether or not other people have the right to determine if that love is acceptable.
First of all, with so much hatred in the world and the terrible, awful things that we humans do to each other on a daily basis, do we really want to expend our energy on policing love, of all things? How about policing hatred for awhile and see how that goes first? Once we've wiped out hatred and abuse in this world (heck, maybe just in this country), then perhaps we'll have the leisure time to turn our attention to caring about who other people love and why.
But let's turn the tables for a second. If you are one of the people who think that same-sex couples should be denied marriage, let's play pretend. Let's pretend that YOU are the target and another group who call themselves the "Moral Majority" has decided that they have the right to decide how your life should go. That's right, people who don't know you and moreover, don't want to know you, those people are going to decide some really huge and important things for you. Such as whether or not you have the right to love the person you love. And they are going to go about defining the boundaries of the life you want to lead with that person.
Let's pretend that a group of people you've never met has decided that you shouldn't get to be married to your spouse. No, they don't know you. Nope, they'll never meet you or your beloved. But they want to tell you that you and your beloved are wrong. And that you shouldn't have the right to legally be committed to each other.
Doesn't feel so good, does it? But let's keep going. Let's say that all you want to do is live a life with the person you love and maybe even raise a family with them. But the Moral Majority says that because they don't agree with that, then you shouldn't get to do it. Because somehow, they have the right to make decisions for everyone else, based on what they believe.
This is where we're at. This is what yet another vote against same-sex marriage gets us. Now don't get me wrong - if you want to live your life a certain way, go for it. If the Bible is your own personal instruction manual, then that's great. More power to you - you should live your life according to how you feel it should be. But just because you believe something to be true, does that make it true? Does it make it true for someone else, independent of its truths for your own personal belief system?
The fact is, it doesn't.
In other words, if other people don't have the say over who YOU marry, then what the hell gives you the right to decide who *they* should marry? If they can't tell you what legal rights you should have in the boundaries of your marriage, where do you get off telling other people what rights you think THEY should have?
Seriously, this issue may seem complicated, but it really isn't. If you don't agree with same-sex marriage, then fine. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. But think about it - do you really want to spend your time worrying about who other people love? Maybe if we all spent that time and energy focused on our own lives, our own marriages, our own families, then we'd see some true positive results in society. And maybe we'd realize that we all have the right to determine what is right for us...but not for other people.

Mom vs. Mom

So this is a topic that's kind of tricky. It's a secret, sort of, but not really. It's about how we moms are REALLY judgemental about other moms and vice versa. See? You know exactly what I'm talking about...except it's something that very few of us will cop to it. I guess no one wants to admit that they're guilty of it, but the truth is that I think most of us are.

Anyway, I was dropping Sabrina and Nathan off at school and overheard one of the other mothers of a 2-year-old chatting with a teacher and saying "Yeah, wow, Tom [not really his name] is just so tired all the time, and I don't know what to do about it." And the teacher goes "Oh yeah? What time does he go to bed?" "Oh," said the mom, "I dunno. Around 9pm."

At which point I'm sure my eyes widened, but hopefully no one saw it. And you know what I was thinking, don't you: "OMG, your kid goes to bed at 9pm? And he's 2? And you can't figure out WHY HE'S SO FREAKING TIRED ALL THE TIME??"

Yeah, hmmm, judge much? The thing is that yes, I do. And so do you. Admit it. We all do. And it's not like I'm the perfect parent, far from it! I'm absolutely sure other parents watch and hear me and think all sorts of judge-y things about me too.

The question is, why are we against each other like this? Why wasn't my first instinct to think "Oh, there must be a reason why he goes to bed that late and maybe there are other factors, like maybe he's not napping well." Not "You suck as a mother! Put your kid to bed earlier!"

??

A multi-tasking marvel? Or disaster?

So I'm back. Again. And yes, it has been too long. Again.
People, I just don't know how to do it all and it frustrates me no end. I'm a mom to 3 kids under the age of 5 and I work part-time from home. Between those 2 things, I'm fried. Stick a fork in me, 'cuz I'm done.
But here's the thing - I want and need a life that's at least a little bit about me. I'd like to at least be on the radar screen. And writing, while that's also my career, is the thing that I'd like to have more time to do. For this blog, and also in terms of getting some mommy-related writing done that I could possibly earn some income from, like articles and the like.
Sigh. See what just happened there? It started out about me (me!) and instantly turned to earning income, which is about this family and not really about me.
Is there no dividing the 2? Seems possibly not. I don't know. How do the rest of you do it? How are you a good mom, a good wife (don't even get me started on that), a good employee and hey, a good YOU?

Blast from the past

So it's been, I don't know, forever since I last wrote on this blog. And part of me honestly didn't think I'd ever do it again, because I obviously cannot be trusted to do it on a regular basis, and why do something if you aren't going to do it all the way?

Well, those points still remain valid. But I've been surrounded by some really good blogs lately and some really interesting thoughts contained within about motherhood and parenthood and, well, just BEING-hood. And I couldn't resist adding my thoughts to all those other thoughts out there in the ether.

So here I am. And first I must say, since my last posts found me pregnant and needing to pee, that both issues resolved themselves. The first was resolved with the birth of Elijah on May 22nd. The second resolved itself as well with the birth of Elijah on May 22nd.

And now, in true life-with-a-baby fashion, Eli just woke up and now I have to go take care of him. More soon.

Maybe I'm crazy after all

The test results are back. I am not diabetic. The clinic accidentally threw away my urine sample, but my doctor strongly doubts that I have another UTI as I am finishing antibiotics for the first one.

So the official prognosis is "bad luck" and I've been advised by my doctor to "keep holding it in there!' Yes, she literally said that.

In other words, this is miserable but apparently part of the pregnancy, and she hopes it will resolve after the baby is born. In 3 months.

I'm frustrated to many extremes by this. For one, life is pretty miserable when all you have to do is go to the bathroom. What a pathetic thing to be fixated on. For another, this is in all probability my last pregnancy, and I'd really like to enjoy the last 3 months. The final trimester has always been my favorite, being all round and funny and feeling the baby move around. It will be much less fun like this.

Again, I get it that many women would pay big bucks to be in my shoes, pee and all, and to them I duck my head respectfully. I know that this seems petty in a lot of ways. (Or potty. Ha ha.)

But in the day-to-day sense, the "how do I function with two small children and work and a life when I walk around all day miserable?" sense, I feel frustrated. And angry. And incredulous that there's nothing to be done.

Misery in the making?

So I finally had my doctor's appointment today. I dutifully drank my glucose and had my blood drawn, and the results of that test will be known tomorrow. They also took another urine sample, and my doctor did an ultrasound to see if the baby's head is banging against my bladder. Which it isn't.

Barring the test results, it seems that nothing dramatic looks wrong. My constant and overwhelming need to go to the bathroom may just be because of the way the baby is sitting in my belly...and that means there's nothing to be done.

"You might just be miserable for the rest of the pregnancy," my doctor said brightly to me.

So much easier said than done. I know I should be grateful nothing serious is wrong, and we actually can't rule out diabetes until the test results come back, but the thought of having no relief from this for the next 3 months is crazy-making. It's enough to make me want to cry in frustration. Go a little bit nuts.

Here's a few examples - my in-laws are in town, and I thought that perhaps we'd take advantage of having babysitters and go see a movie, me and the hubby. But then I realized that there's no way I can last through an entire 2 hour movie without having to get up to have to pee. At least a couple of times, if not more.

Then I thought, well, hey, I have this gift certificate for a massage that I could go use this weekend. Lord knows I could use the stress relief. Then I realized that there's no way I can lie on a table and be massaged for an hour and not need to go to the bathroom. Even a half-hour massage seems unlikely.

John, bless his heart, made me a lovely bubble bath earlier this week, complete with candles. It was romantic and sweet and meant to help me relax. And yup, you guessed it, about 15 minutes into it, I had to go to the bathroom.

It's so not funny any more. I'm feeling despair.

OH, and then there's the fact that I apparently gained 10 pounds since my last doctor's visit 3 weeks ago. Sure, you might think, that's what you get for eating like a pregnant woman. But the fact is, I've actually been very careful to eat healthfully - cottage cheese and fruit for breakfast, a salad for lunch, soup for dinner, etc., etc. There's no freaking way I have gained the weight from what I have been eating.

So what gives? Is it yet another symptom of something that can't be properly diagnosed? Is the baby just going nuts in there?

I feel very out of control when it comes to my body right now, and I'm not enjoying it. Not at all.

Should fertility treatments be limited?

Along with the rest of the country, I have to admit I was intrigued by the story of the Southern California mom who recently gave birth to 8 children...and has 6 more at home.
Although we have not heard from the mother herself, her own mother has spoken up and claimed that her daughter is "obsessed" with having children, and since she cannot conceive naturally, has used fertility treatments to have all of her children.
It should probably be noted that the mother, Nadya Suleman, is not married. Or should it?
This whole thing raises a lot of questions. Is it okay for a single parent to have multiple children without a supporting parent present?
Is it more okay or less okay if that single parent conceives the children naturally?
Say the parent is married and just really, really loves children. Is there a limit at which someone has had enough children? Who would set such a limit?
And what about the whole carrying of 8 children at once? That's a huge stress on a body, not to mention the babies. Should there be a limit on how many embryos are acceptable? Again, who would set that limit?
Well, it does seem that someone would like to set a limit, or at least strong recommendations. In June, the American Society for Reproductive Medicine (ASRM) issued updated "Guidelines on Number of Embryos Transferred." Women under age 35 - the octuplets' mom is reportedly 33 - should attempt to transfer no more than two, and preferably only one, fertilized embryo at a time. Women over age 40 should attempt no more than five.
(Source: http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20090204/hl_time/08599187623200)
A former nanny to Suleman said that she was told at one point that the mother did not have to pay for her multiple fertility treatments, because it was paid for by another party. No further details were given.
Hmmm. I don't know exactly where those funds came from, but I do know that fertility treatments are very expensive. Should, perhaps, that money be put towards the care of her current children?
Another issue that has been raised is that of the cost of raising 8 babies all at once - not a small issue, as anyone raising one or more children can attest. A news story recently reported that the mother had already been receiving TV, magazine, and book offers to tell her story. So should we assume that the children will be cared for using that money? Did the mother assume that such offers would be forthcoming?
Of course, we don't have any of these answers. But I can't help but ask them.
I must say, that although I have been very blessed with my children and have not faced fertility issues, I have friends who have - and I have witnessed just how difficult, painful, and expensive such a thing can be. So my heart goes out to any woman or couple who wants a child and has difficulty having one. I am not against fertility treatments, especially when it can give a baby to a family who desperately wants that child. Or even children, as fertility treatments commonly result in multiple births.
But 8?
As always, I welcome your comments!

It ain't over

So my symptoms have continued, despite being on antibiotics for the UTI for 4 days. Usually, relief from antibiotics with such things is quick and thorough. Not so much this time.

Not much fun, this. And I don't get what is going on. So I finally called the clinic today and talked with a nurse who was actually very understanding. It would be so easy for anyone to just dismiss me and say that this is all just part of being pregnant and having a UTI, but she really listened. And seemed to actually get that I'm not functioning well and that I'm miserable. And worried, because I have found myself limiting my liquids, just because I can't stand the non-stop trips to the bathroom and mentally mapping out my errands in terms of the closest potty.

So they're having me come in on Thursday to get checked, have an ultrasound to see where the baby is (possible the baby's head is just banging around on my bladder, I suppose), and to check my glucose level.

And that's what's got me spooked - I looked up gestational diabetes, and although I have none of the risk factors, one of the symptoms it mentions is an increased need to urinate. Which is so me right now.

I know, I know, gestational diabetes can be managed and I suppose everything will be fine if that's the diagnosis. But I eat well. I work out. I haven't gained much weight. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing, and this still might be happening...?

Sigh. I'll keep you posted.

So I'm not crazy after all

The hospital called today. Turns out that I have an infection after all. They're going to call in a prescription for me and I gotta say, I'm really looking forward to picking that thing up.

For one thing, I'm hoping to get some sheer relief from these symptoms, symptoms that I had started to think I was simply going to have to live with. And symptoms that were making me wonder if I was crazy, since the official results had been negative.

Well, they're not so negative after all, and I feel relieved in a lot of ways. And I'm hoping to put this whole thing behind me and get back to life without hundreds of trips to the bathroom every day.

The results are in...

...and apparently, nothing is wrong with me.

Things had gotten progressively worse with the whole 'need to go to the bathroom' issue, until yesterday, when I literally was heading for the restroom every 5 minutes or less. Still no pain or anything, but the urge was non-stop.

Now you girls (and compassionate husbands/boyfriends/brothers/fathers, etc.) know that when you have a UTI, you have the same problem. Can't stop needing to go. So I finally called the hospital, because of course it was Sunday afternoon and the clinic was closed. How often do you have a medical issue that happens when your doctor is actually available, I ask you?? Anyway, I got put through to Labor and Delivery, where a very friendly-sounding resident informed me that yes, it sounded like a UTI and no, she couldn't prescribe anything over the phone. I had to come in. Never mind that the hospital is 45 minutes away and I didn't really want to go in to Labor and Delivery, just for a UTI. But it didn't matter. Once I had spoken with the doc, who took down my name, I kind of had to go.

So I made the drive, went in, got put into a triage room in the Labor and Delivery floor, all the while feeling like a fool. I must have seemed like one, too, because I was a little antsy and yup, you guessed it, I had to go to the bathroom. The nurse was nice, had me provide a urine sample, checked the baby's heartbeat, etc., etc. Then she disappeared, and awhile later, a nice resident came in.

The UTI test came back negative, it seemed, so now it was time to check for amniotic fluid or anything else scary or bad. I'll spare you the details of the exam (never fun), but basically, those tests came back negative too.

So what's wrong with me? No one knows, although gentle hints about urinary incontinence were banded about. I felt like such. a. fool. Here I was, not even 6 months pregnant yet, in the Labor and Delivery floor, with what was amounting to a common and typical pregnancy symptom - the need to pee.

Aaarrrgh. I still feel slightly ashamed, as if I should have just waited and let the misery continue until today when the clinic was open. Of course, they would have had me come in too, and they're literally next door to the hospital, so the drive would have been the same.

But still. John keeps saying it was better that we were safe, because UTIs can be bad in pregnant women, and in many ways, it really seemed like that was what I had. Still does, to be honest.

Needless to say, I'm not looking forward to seeing my doctor at the next visit, a sharp and to-the-point woman who definitely gives me the impression that she's not expecting such foolishness from a woman who has been pregnant before.

Sigh. And you know what? I still have to pee.

To pee or not to pee...

Before you roll your eyes and think "Not another potty training post!", have no fear. This one is actually about me, not Nathan. And before you think "Ewww!", try to stick with me for a minute here.

The scoop is this - I'm 5 months pregnant now and all of a sudden during the past two days, I have had periods when I literally need to go to the bathroom every 5 minutes. I kid you not. At the gym this morning, I went to the bathroom 6 times in the course of an hour. During the 20-minute drive to Sabrina's taekwando class yesterday, I nearly wet myself in the car, despite having gone to the bathroom twice before leaving.

What's the deal??? This is seriously annoying and frustrating. I'm almost wondering if I have an infection, but the other usual symptoms of a UTI aren't there. So is this just pregnancy? I didn't go through this sort of thing with my first two pregnancies, so I'm in uncommon ground. I thought about calling the doctor's office and speaking to a nurse today, but I felt like an idiot. "Um, yes, hello, I'm pregnant and I have to pee all the time. Yes, I know that's normal. No, this isn't my first pregnancy. Yes, I should probably know better than to call with silly questions. Okay, I'm hanging up now."

But c'mon, I honestly can't function like this. I have places to go, children to take care of. Between me and Nathan (oh, you know I couldn't resist), I'm practically LIVING in our bathroom right now.

And frankly, I'm kind of done with it.

The potty diaries

So the potty chronicles continue. Nathan has realized that he has power over the situation and things came pretty much to a standstill. He didn't want to go potty, didn't want to be taken to the potty, etc., etc.

It was at the point where we either upped the ante or gave up, and I personally think inconsistency makes things worse with kids. So we went to Target and stocked up on Hot Wheels cars and even a few Thomas trains to reward him with when he finally did his business in the potty.

It seems to be working at least to some degree, since he'll agree to go sit on the potty and will stay there (most of the time) until something happens. There have still been a couple of puddles on the floor today, but I feel much less like I'm going to go crazy trying to get this little guy to make the connection.

I'm not saying this the ideal way of doing it. But we're trying and we're trying to do it in a good, fair, and supportive way for him. And I'd really like him to be potty trained by May, when the baby is due. So if I look at it in a long-term view like that, I can deal. I guess. Although I really am sick of puddles on the floor.

Holding a grudge

Have you ever found yourself holding a grudge against your child? I have to admit, I'm holding one this morning. Sabrina was up for hours last night, calling me every 10-15 minutes just to tell me she didn't want to sleep. And I admit, I got good and mad after the first few trips to her room. She didn't need anything, she had already been taken to the potty, and I knew that if she would just lay down and was quiet, she'd fall asleep. Sitting up in bed and calling for me wasn't going to help anything.

And yet, call she did. I finally told her that she had lost her treat for today (she can earn a sticker or watching part of a favorite movie every day through good behavior), and that I was simply not coming back into her room until morning. And she was finally, finally! quiet.

But I was mad. I'm 5 months pregnant and exhausted on a general basis. I don't mind getting up with the kids when they legitimately need something, but this was just 4-year-old irrationality at its best.

And I'm still mad this morning. I realize, by the way, that it isn't fair. She's a kid, I'm the adult. She did in fact eventually go to sleep, and so did I. And she's totally over it. I'm just not. But I'm trying. I realize it makes no sense to still be mad. She doesn't deserve it.

But I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of having sleep robbed from me. And it's only going to get worse - baby #3 still has yet to arrive. Will I ever sleep well again?

Are you a good parent? Am I?

Sometimes bad parenting is easy to spot. For instance, 7 News here in Denver recently ran a story about a father who left his 4-year-old asleep in a car in below-freezing temperatures for hours...while he went inside a nearby house and "visited" with a 13-year-old girl. (You can read the story here.)

I think it's safe to say that we can all agree that, my friend, is very poor parenting. In fact, it's pretty much paramount to abuse.

But what about the rest of us in our everyday lives? I often wonder where I stand on the spectrum of parenting. I'm pretty sure I'm a good mother...but don't we all think that? Isn't that, in fact, part of the reason we can get up in the morning after being up all night with the baby, feed the 4-year-old-breakfast, deal with the fact that everyone's tired and cranky...and still manage to get everyone fed and dressed and ready and maybe even sing along to "Old McDonald Had a Farm" in the car on the way to school for the fifty-millionth time?
But does that make us a good parent? Or just a parent?

It's hard to say. Perhaps even impossible. I tend to hold myself up against a slew of mothers that I imagine are out there, "good" mothers who don't snap at their kids no matter how tired they are, who manage somehow to keep the house clean on a constant basis, who can spend their days raising their children while they act as the family chauffeur, cheerleader, housekeeper, cook, oh, and even income-maker of the family...and still have energy and time at the end of the day for their husband.

And I try, I really do, to keep up with all those imaginary mothers. But I admit that there are days that I do snap at my kids, that my house does get dirty (and sometimes stays that way for awhile), and that I quite frankly get really worn out trying to do everything and be everything to everyone. But I still believe that I'm doing my best and that my kids are happy, healthy, curious, polite, funny, and sweet (who, me, biased?), so I must be doing at least okay in terms of the parenting standard.

However, I decided to turn to the experts to see what actually makes a good parent. To read more about what I found, check out my new webpage at: http://www.examiner.com/x-2370-Denver-Early-Childhood-Parenting-Examiner~y2009m1d15-Are-you-a-good-parent

Confessions of a (non) aerobic dance queen

So I was at the gym yesterday working out and while I was working out, I was watching what looked like an aerobic step class in action. The classroom has full-length windows, so it's not like I was spying. But I couldn't help watching them throughout my own workout, as I moved from machine to machine, lifting weights.

I will never be an aerobics or step class kind of person. This is not meant to be disparaging, it's more a statement of what I just don't think I *can* do than what I *want* to do. The class seemed to have many choreographed patterns to it, with arms swinging, jumping, lifting legs in complicated movements...Me, I'm hopelessly uncoordinated and I have trouble judging depth, so I wouldn't leap on and off of the step gracefully without having to look carefully each time to make sure I was actually making it on the darn thing.

Nope, I'm pretty darn sure you will never find me in that kind of class. Or if you do, I'll be the one in the back, laughing at herself and embarrassed because she can't keep up and can't keep the patterns straight and just missed jumping on the step entirely.

I'm all for working out, and I do try to do it faithfully. But I guess I'll just always be an elliptical/weight lifting kind of girl. But I will be the one who is gazing respectfully and a little wistfully into the window of your step class. If you are the type of girl/guy who does that class and does it even somewhat well, my hat's off to you. Wish I could join you.

Do you need to go potty?

No? You sure? Okay, okay, but I'm just going to have to ask you again in 5 minutes because it has been like 10 minutes since you last went, and I swear, you have the bladder the size of a pea.

What's this you say? You're not my small son? The one with the bladder the size of a pea? Hmm, sorry about that. I get into this rhythm of either asking or whisking him away to the potty every 10 minutes or so, and it just kind of gets under your skin. Makes you start looking at others and wondering if THEY need to go potty. And if they just so happen to be an adult with a child about the same age of yours, how long THEIR offspring can wait between piddles.

Yeah, it's exciting all right. My world is, if not entirely, mostly consumed with pee. And when it will happen. And how it will happen. And if it will happen right after I have asked if it needs to happen. Or in the highchair. You get the idea.

I can't even think of anything interesting going on in this manic world of ours that's as fascinating as potty training. Yes, I'm being sarcastic. But for you folks who have gone through potty training, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. And for those of you who haven't but will, all I have to offer you is a sympathetic and knowing smile.

And to ask, do you need to go potty? Really? You sure? Want to at least try?

Cranky days are here again

So it's been a very cranky day around our household so far. And I don't know exactly why.

Since it's the weekend, I got to sleep in this morning while John took the kids down and fed them breakfast. (Tomorrow will be his turn.) And the sleep was great and well-needed, but my dreams were strange and vivid and a little disturbing, all of which I attribute to pregnancy, but it meant I woke up feeling odd.

Once I came downstairs, it was obvious the kids were both feeling needy and cranky themselves and John was irritable. It's one thing when one of us is out of sorts and the other parent is fine, because then it sort of balances out. But when we're both teetering near the edge, it's just not good.

So far, we've managed, but we're both snappy and the kids are showing it by being moody and testy themselves. Ack, I really don't like this...but I don't know for sure how to change it. I'm hoping getting everyone out of the house this afternoon will help.

It's also a bummer because it's the weekend and this is when things are supposed to be relaxed and fun, right? Sigh.

Early Childhood Parenting for Examiner.com

So I have started a new adventure, and I'm very excited about it!

I am now the Denver Early Childhood Parenting writer for the Examiner.com. I'll be posting articles on a regular basis about my life as a mom and tips, advice, and solutions for other parents! I'm really hoping to build an online community of parents, so please take a look and join me!

The URL is: http://www.examiner.com/x-2370-Denver-Early-Childhood-Parenting-Examiner

Hop aboard and let's make a community of parents who can ask questions, support each other, learn from each other, and laugh about the mayhem of it all! :)

Moments of grace

So today was a good day to be a mommy, at least around my house. You get these days occasionally, and it's totally a thing of grace, because it reminds you how great your kids are and how much you enjoy being a mother. And why you're doing all this anyway. After a day like yesterday, which was kind of rough, it's a sweet thing indeed.

We told Sabrina this morning that I am going to have another baby, and she hasn't stopped talking about it all day. She is SO excited. She keeps wanting to see my belly and hug it, and has all sorts of plans about how she can help when the baby comes. And of course, lots of questions about what babies need and what they do. At one point, she asked what new babies eat, and I was explaining nursing to her, which really isn't a foreign concept, since she was nursed and she saw me nurse Nathan for nearly a year and a half. "Oh, yeah, Mommy," she said, "I know all about it. The baby will suck on your nickels, and that is how he will eat." LOL. I did go ahead and correct her and tell her that the right word was "nipples," but somehow, I'd rather she keep saying "nickles." The only bummer for her at this point is how long it will be until the baby is born. 4 months is an eternity when you're that small.

In other news, Nathan actually had a good day with potty training. We went ahead and hauled out the ol' potty chair last night, hoping that something smaller and more interesting than the actual porcelain throne itself might encourage him, and sure enough! He did a great job going in the potty (it plays music when the deed is accomplished, which thrilled him no end), and the only accident he had was in his pull-up when we were at the gym. And I knew that one was going to happen, because he didn't want to go potty at home before we left, and an hour plus is too long for him to wait. So I didn't mind that much.

And, lest you think all I care about is whether the kid has peed in the pot or not, he had a great day in general, all happy and funny and sweet. He's really getting big and smart, asking lots of questions and talking up a storm. I can't believe he'll be two in less than a month. My baby! Oh, it just tugs at my heart.

So between happy kids and a decent night's sleep last night, today was a good day in motherhood. I'm feeling satisfied and warm and fuzzy. I wonder how long I can get it to last...?

...And the beat goes on (whether you like it or not)

Have you ever noticed how unfair parenting is? Okay, yes, this is strictly sour grapes, but seriously...have you? Wouldn't it be nice if your needs came first once in awhile? I mean, you can be drop dead tired, so tired you can't even focus your eyes, and does it matter? Not really. Because the kids still need to be fed and played with and toted to school and various activities and the grocery shopping still needs to be done and dinner needs to be made. Take a nap? Take a break? I don't think so. And I work at home after the kids go to bed, so there isn't even the sweet victory of curling up on the couch after they are (finally!) asleep to watch some bad tv and relish the feeling of doing absolutely nothing.

Hmm, yes, perhaps I'm too tired to be writing this right now. I know I sound like one of those petty moms who complains about every little thing and everyone smiles thinly and nods like they're in total agreement with what she's saying, but what they're really thinking is "Geez, isn't this what you signed up for? Get over it!"

Well, I'll get over it. At the very least, I'll pray for a better night tonight than last night and hope that tomorrow will feel better than today. See, there was a ton of wind last night and it kept Sabrina awake, which made her panic and act all crazy for hours on end, and I'm sorry, we are simply not the most patient parents at 2am, much less 4am. Plus, I had just gotten my new pregnancy pillow in the mail and was really looking forward to a good night's sleep. It just makes it worse when you THINK you're going to get a good night's sleep and it doesn't happen.

Anyway, we're still at a stalemate with Nathan and the potty training. He steadfastly refused to sit on the potty today more than once or twice and cheerfully piddled all over himself and the floor instead. What else is new, right? The good news is that right before I put him to bed, he tooted and I duly asked if he wanted to go potty and (gasp) he said yes. So went to the potty we did, and he cheerfully sat on the potty and cheerfully pointed out the towels on the wall to me, and the toilet paper holder, etc., etc., and lo and behold, he went potty! I cheered and cheered for him and we went and got not one but two celebratory stickers for his sheet before we went and put him back down to bed. He was still cheering for himself as he went down, so there's hope yet.

One step forward, two puddles back...

So we've hit the inevitable - setbacks in potty training. After a few days of continued improvement, Nathan has started to rebel, saying "No!" every time we ask if he needs go to potty and nearly throwing himself off of the potty if we take him anyway. He has even learned how to stiffen his body so it is basically impossible to sit him down on the toilet.

So I've had to take a deep breath (or ten) and allow for him to go back to piddling on the floor and his undies, even if I've just offered to take him to the bathroom and he said no. It's frustrating because he was doing so well, but I know intellectually that forcing him to go when he doesn't want to will only make things worse. And we do not need for things to be worse.

I did take an extra trip to the store today to sweeten the deal and buy new, exciting stickers to use as incentive. He was all about the stickers when we bought them, but has since decided they are simply not worth the effort of actually going potty to earn. So they remain in their packages on the counter.

It's also hard because Sabrina was a fantastic potty-trainer and yes, I know I shouldn't compare my children, and yes, I know that boys tend to be harder to train. But I can't help but remember her smooth and constant curve upwards towards success when it comes to this whole thing. Unless I'm just conveniently forgetting the setbacks and problems we had and only remembering the good parts? Entirely possible.

Meanwhile, John went back to work from Christmas break today and Sabrina returns to school tomorrow. The kids and I lurched back into our old routine with creakiness this morning but we're managing. It was just so much easier to have John around all the time to help and to talk to. When's that winning lottery ticket going to come in so he can just quit his job for good?

Progress, progress

So things here in potty land are progressing. The number of times that Nathan goes in the potty is slowly, ever so slowly, starting to edge out the number of times he goes on the floor. Of course, it helped that I finally realized that the kid literally pees like every 10 minutes. I'm so not kidding. So by putting him on the potty every 10-15 minutes, the success rate has increased. I must admit, I am wondering how the heck we'll do this when we actually try to venture out into the world with him in undies. You can't even drive most places around here in less than 10 minutes. Will I need to put a potty in the car?

In other news, I have finally gotten my a*$& back into the gym after about three months off. It started simply enough - our membership at the gym near our old house expired and we thought it made more sense to just go sign up at a gym closer to the new house. And somehow, that task was just SO cumbersome that we kept not doing it. Naturally, time passed and it the excuses got easier and easier - oh, we're moving, and that's enough of a workout. Oh, it's Thanksgiving, who has the time? Oh, I'm pregnant, I really should take it easy anyway.

Well, ha ha on me, because now enough time has passed that I'm out of shape again and getting back into shape at around 5 months pregnant is not going to be an easy task. But hey, we did sign up at the new gym, and I did go 3 whole times this week. And it only sucked a little bit. Now I just need to keep going. And wait for my tummy to finally get big enough so that I'm unmistakably pregnant, instead of this in-between stage, where I get this look from strangers that is clearly scrutinizing in nature - is she or isn't she? Did she just REALLY enjoy her Christmas and is this her New Year's resolution, losing the weight? (In which case, she'll be like half the people in the gym, who will disappear again by February.) Or wait, is that tummy just round enough to mean there's a baby in there?

Don't get me wrong, I get these looks on a regular basis, but the gym is worse. Let's face it - other women at any given gym are checking out the other chicks and evaluating their bodies. Are they more fit? Less fit? More toned? Flabby? The women are checking out the other women far, far more than the men are, trust me. So I feel like wearing a sign around my neck that says "Yes, I'm pregnant!" so that I'll get that sweet look people give you when you are all babyliciousness, instead of the slyly patronizing look you get when people think you're just a little bit chubby.

(And yes, this is my New Year's resolution. But no, I won't be gone by February. You'll still find my chubby little babylicious tushy at the gym. So there.)

And the score is...

Day 3 of potty training, and the current score is 2 times of actually making it to the bathroom and going tinkle in the potty (well, all over the potty, but at this point I'm not going to be picky) to 1 million times of going in the undies, on the floor, in the highchair, you name it. Hmmm. Not the best ratio, I realize. But I'm choosing to be pleased with the 2 times we've sat him down on the potty and had success. One of those times, he even TOLD us he had to go. So this is progress from yesterday and if we can keep it up, tomorrow should be even better, and so on and so on.

Here's the potential snag - when I put him down for his nap just now, he felt a little warm to me, and I checked his temp. Somewhere around 99.0, which isn't technically a fever, but if it's on the rise, then something's up. And if he's sick, then potty training seems kind of a lot to ask from him. But I'm a big believer in consistency and sticking to something once you start. So I'm not sure how we'll proceed if he does get sick. Stay tuned.

In other news, I tried to do a quick-and-dirty cleaning of the house this morning (pun intended). If nothing else, the floor definitely needed mopping and the bathrooms needed cleaning, what with all the piddling going on. So I whipped through as much as I could, but the rest of the house still needs to be vacuumed, etc., etc. And when I went downstairs to grab a drink in between putting Nathan down for his nap and dealing with Sabrina and her own petty refusals to go down for her quiet time, the lunch dishes were still sitting on the kitchen table and everything was still out. John had disappeared downstairs to watch TV once the kids were supposedly put down. I know he saw the dishes, he had lunch with us, he knew they were there. Why couldn't he have cleaned up the food and put the dishes in the dishwasher? I get so tired of being the one who is constantly cleaning up around here. John can just hang out in all the mess and be just fine. And I can do that too, to an extent. Then I get tired of the mess and just have to clean it up. However, this time, instead of dealing with the dishes myself, I simply had to walk away and tell myself they'll be there later on. At some point, even I need a break.

Right?

Tinkle, Tinkle, Little Star

Happy New Year, everyone. I'm curious - how many of you parents out there actually stay up until midnight any more? I think we've only done it once since Sabrina was born 4 years ago, and I'm not even positive about that...I'm wondering if my memory is making it up so that I won't feel like such a dork, because I can't stay up past 10pm these days. Last night, we didn't even bother with the pretense. John made a rather fabulous fondue dinner for us after we put the kids down, then we cleaned up and went upstairs and climbed into bed. Why bother pretending? We were both asleep by 10 and although we both woke up briefly to the sounds of happy revelers at midnight, it didn't last...and neither did we.

Anyway, in the spirit of the new year and all that, we started potty training Nathan yesterday. He's almost 23 months, which is either very early or late in the whole potty training thing, depending on your point of view. Our pediatrician had us start potty training Sabrina when she was 18 months, and she was totally potty trained at age 2. So in light of that, we're late to the gate with Nathan. But of course, everyone tells me that boys do it later and I know some 3-year-olds who are struggling with it. So who knows?

Right now, it's a lot like having a puppy around - there are a lot of puddles on the floor. Not to mention the continuous laundering of little boy undies. And Nathan rather merrily will allow us to take him to the potty, take off the sodden undies, place him on the toilet, clean him up, put on new undies, and keep on going. I'm not sure the connection is really being made. Although he did poop in the potty this morning, he kind of started going in his undies before we made it to the bathroom and he finished up there. I keep reminding myself that the first few days of any new skill are the hardest...and that he'll catch on. We just have to be consistent. And in the meantime, the sight of my little guy toddling around in his tidy whiteys is pretty darn funny and totally worthwhile.

So we'll see. He may catch on to this quickly, or it might be hilariously slow. Not sure which way it will go yet. But hey, it's a new year, right? So I'm guessing he'll be potty trained sometime in 2009. (364 days to go.)