Potty Training: Day 8

So how are things going?

First, I didn't really announce the whole start (because, do any of you really care?). I had plans to start the 3-Day PT method on Wednesday, Christmas Eve. The husband would be home and I would be able to somehow have extra hands when sister tries to crawl through the pee all over the floor. Yes, it's happened a few times.

Except, the toddler decided that after weeks of me telling him we were almost out of diapers and that soon we won't have anything other than big boy undies to wear that Monday, 12/22 was the day he would refuse a diaper. We were having friends over for a playdate just an hour later. And the next day we had dentist appointments that would require we be out of the house. Not ideal and not in the plans for the whole 3-Day method. Except, the method was written for kids primarily between 22-30 months. Anything after that (read: my kid at 34 months) would be harder and not ideal. Super. Starting things off on a positive note.

The benefit to having a kid this old to PT? They do know when they are peeing and can tell you all the signs. And if they are anything like Benjamin, they've been casually using the potty on their own for almost a year. Time to get the ball rolling.

First two days of PT were flying solo because Dad was working. We went all-in without pull-ups or diapers at night or naptime. Here's the summary without doing a day-to-day.

Naptime: Woke 6/7 times dry

Bedtime: Called for me 2/7 times after peeing in the middle of the night, slept through the wet or woke up and peed the bed (hard to tell) 3/7 times and woke completely dry 2/7 times. This doesn't bother me. He is not expected to all of a sudden know how to hold in a bladder full of liquid for 12 hours. I'll change sheets as necessary. I have washable pee pads and he's in a toddler bed, so the laundry is much smaller.

Accidents: 6 accidents over two days (day 1 and day 5-- of which I believe he was acting on purpose because his behavior was terrible that day). The other 5 days were completely dry.

Overall: He's been doing okay, but three days was definitely not the magic number. He goes in public toilets and is fine. Perhaps it's the novelty. He'll proudly tell you he goes in the "women's bathroom" because he's partial to Mommy these days (please send wine). I take him whenever we go somewhere (library, Costco, restaurants) to ensure he doesn't have an accident. He is fine wearing the underwear but is particular in selecting the pair. He also prefers the little potties in our house, but occasionally stands up to pee in the big potties. I don't care which he chooses, as long as he is comfortable using foreign toilets when we're out of the house.

The Bad (or should I say annoying): He doesn't tell me often when he has to go, so the whole premise about them owning it is not at all working with Benjamin. I usually get him to go by telling him I'm going potty and want him to come with me. It usually works. He refuses to go when he wakes up from nap or nighttime and had two consecutive accidents because of this. He also occasionally flat-out tells me NO when I ask him to go potty (because I know he has to be holding it in! Ah, life with a "spirited child").

On the 3-Day PT Method:
- I clearly don't have the poster child for this program. Three days (multiplied by 50?).
- The whole premise is to ditch all forms of a crutch and go head first. Fine. I'm cool with changing peed bedding (it's only pee).
- You are to be near your child and notice when they start to have an accident and run them to the bathroom, getting pee all over your house in the process. Also fine. I understand that it's teaching the kid that pee only goes in the potty and no where else, at the expense of your hardwood floors and carpeting and the baby who will absolutely crawl through it.
- Verbally congratulate them (at obnoxious levels) for using the potty, even if it started as an accident, congratulating for keeping their underwear dry and reminding them to tell you when they need to go (like 100x a day). No questions, only statements. Also fine, except I can count on one hand how many times Benjamin has told me he needed to go on his own. The rest were me convincing him he needed to go when I know he did (judging by liquid consumption).
- Lots of liquids. I find this the trickiest. Pump them with lots of favorite beverages and then halt them a couple hours before sleep time. That means he only gets liquids for two, 3-hr periods a day. It's really hard to manage that! And, I can't just force liquids upon him. He's nearly 3 and seriously gives me the back off, MOM look whenever I try. It's exhausting getting him to eat or drink anything.

We're in it. We're not wavering. It may take forever from here, but we're committed.

Things I'm nervous about:

School starts back up January 6. He's been fighting school (because it's not on his terms, not because he doesn't actually like it) and getting dropped off. He will have been diaperless for 15 days and seriously can hold his bladder like a champ, so I'm not too worried. However, it is 2.5 hours long and he does go early in the morning and there is a chance he could have an accident because he refuses to pee when he wakes. On the flipside, it is preschool and something tells me his school has seen their fair share of accidents (after all, where do you learn if not there?), but I'm nervous. I might try to walk him in myself and have him use the potty before dropping him in his classroom each morning. But ugh! Then I lose the luxury of the dropoff service and have to schlep Claire out of the car in the coldest month of the year. I really, really think putting him in pull-ups is a poor choice and won't do it. I'd honestly rather keep him home.

We will also be traveling to Whistler in two weeks with good friends and Benjamin will be sharing a room with their daughter who is also almost 3. I don't want him waking her in the night because he peed the bed, so despite all the encouragement to eliminate all diapers, I'm going to tell him that in other houses and special hotels that we must wear these pull-ups (using a decoy name) because the owners make us. I'll even generate a note and hang it on the wall so he knows. Just so it's situational and not a regression. Like most kids his age, he loves pointing out rules and think that will go over fine.

**I posted this at naptime. End of Day 8 went swimmingly. He actually told me twice today when he had to go and went on his own ("Turn the lights on and close the door, Mommy"-- been telling us this for months). Rewards are really working. Every positive thing I give him (TV, treats, computer time) is followed by "because you've been so great at going in the potty and keeping your underwear dry!" I make sure to reward him even when only a pee-- noticed that the first few days he was forcing out mini poops because he was somehow under the impression that poop is more impressive. I've been obnoxiously complimenting his pee-only times as well to curb this. Seems like he's really starting to own this. Also took all his clothes off tonight and took his own shower (just needed help turning on to get correct temperature). Yay?!

Merry Christmas

From our family to yours. Wishing love and peace to you all.

Best of 6. Toddlers are impossible with photos. Heavily bribed to sit on my lap because a present was waiting (Buzz Lightyear!) and allowing him to press the self-timer before hopping on my lap. Green Christmas sweaters were a gift from family. Notice Andrew's print. I'm sure you already did. 

The Gap

I'm at my end this week. It's just one of those weeks that never seems to end and the toddler and baby have found every cord to strike within me.

I had to get out this morning. Most storytimes have taken a winter hiatus and so we went to my least favorite one in the local downtown. It's not very engaging and the room is enormous, so attention spans are minimal. After, we explored the computers, elevator, dirty toys, water fountain in which Benjamin was sticking his hands in and then sticking them in his mouth, omg omg omg, we went to the {once again} mediocre storytime.

After, I thought it would be fun to walk and check out the trains they place on the sidewalks for the winter. They're about the size of the ones you'd ride in front of a supermarket, but decorated with different sponsors and such. We got to the corner and there was a Gap store. I figured I'd check out their clearance for cute stuff for Claire.

Walking in was fine. And then it was all over.

Benjamin was a nightmare. He was hanging from the security things in front of the door. Climbing into the front display of the store. Grabbing display hanging metal things that the workers were assembling and running off with them. Climbing on top of full displays and sitting on them after he cleared all of the shirts that were being displayed. Running up and down the aisles and yelling MOM! as loud as he could. It's his latest thing to do. Finally, after he cleared another shelf and landed about 50 beautifully folded shirts on the floor, I put Claire on the floor (to then also crawl up and down aisles and attempt to get into the cashier's area) and purchased a single item. But of course, Claire can't walk, so I must carry her the 1.5 blocks to the car and the toddler refuses to not only put on his coat, but move a single inch on his own. He sat.

Somehow I strong-armed them both and after that block, I didn't have the strength to manage the full 50lbs of awkward weight, so I put him down on the sidewalk and told him he needed to walk. He refused. So I grabbed one arm and began to drag-walk him down the street. An older couple approached and asked if I needed help.

I'm not too proud. Yes. YES. I need help. And a stroller or a husband or a freaking nanny. She held his other arm as we dragged him that 1/2 block to the car.

And this, my friends, is why I refuse to shop anywhere with my toddler. How I see these moms walking in and out of stores with their children who happily wear coats and hats and stand by their side while shopping amazes me. They're like unicorn spottings.

Conversations with Benjamin: Part I

My friend Brooke inspired me with her recent posts about her daughter, Zuzu, and the hilarity that is spoken in her house. You have to go over and read her posts... toddlers are a riot.

--

Scene: Early morning and the kids are rummaging around in our bedroom. Claire finds a plastic bag with an empty bottle inside.

Benjamin: {grabs bag and runs} No, thief!

(Apparently all the readings of his favorite Peter Rabbit book are adding to his vocabulary. He just loves that naughty bunny.)

--

Scene: Living room, climbing on top of the very unsafe and not to be climbed Ballapallooza toy.

Benjamin: {yelling to me as I'm in the kitchen} Mom! Take a picture. I being dangerous!

(He loves being dangerous. And naughty. Dangerous and naughty. He also was proud to tell me about his dangerous ways as he attempted to climb the luggage rack on the commuter train from the second level on Sunday.)

--

Scene: In his bedroom after nap. We were talking about going to the children's museum that morning and why we left the museum prematurely.

Mom: Didn't we have a fun morning? What did we do?

Benjamin: I go to children's museum. I kick off my shoes. I make a poor choice.

--

Scene: Afternoon, just hanging out in the kitchen.

Benjamin: Mommy, sing please mommy dod? Know dat song?

Mom: Yes, I know that one... "Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad..."

--

Scene: Benjamin finished art at the table (i.e. scissors, paper and glue stick, no rules)

Benjamin: I cut dis for you. Mommy, are you proud?

Mom: Yes, Benjamin. I'm so proud of you!

--

We Remember, 2014

This is our fifth Christmas since becoming pregnant with Andrew. All five of which he was not here to celebrate with us. Each year I struggle with decorations. Even though we have two children in our house (judging by the looks of the messes they make at the very least!), it's still difficult to hang the stockings (four or five? where? which location will make us the least sad?), buy the tree and find a location (same place as when we arrived home from the hospital in 2010? no thanks.), and go about the whole holiday cheer business. I'm still not there completely. I'm not sure I'll ever be. There will probably never be an Elf in our house and I'm pretty content with that.

Each year we attend a remembrance ceremony held about a block from the hospital all three of our children were born. It's put on by the hospital's SHARE program and is free, funded by the hospital and volunteers. There are cookies and punch at the end, baked by the staff in Labor & Delivery.

This is our "favorite" (odd to favorite a remembrance ceremony?) one to attend and one we like keeping as a tradition for our family, especially during the Christmas season. It is also nice that it's the same week of Andrew's birthday each year. It's specifically for families who have lost children, so it almost feels like a group of comrades coming together who fully understand the magnitude of this type of grief. It's really wonderful and really heartbreaking as the numbers continue to grow.

The sanctuary is full of hundreds of families. Some are childless. Some lost children days, weeks or months before, and some are like us and have lived through this for years now. There are babies, toddlers, children, teenagers, parents, grandparents, family members and friends all sitting in pews listening to the church choir sing and SHARE organizers speak the names of our children, hand us the lighter to ignite our candle and stand near the tree we hang our ornaments.

They open the mic and some people go up to share poems or speak about their experiences and love for their children. One woman spoke about approaching her daughter's first birthday on January 7th, just a week before Claire was born. I could probably tell you what I was doing that day (itching in the OB office, flipping out). In the end, I did birth a live child, and she did not.

One man spoke of this being a tradition for his family each year. In tears, he spoke about how other family members might forget, but it's important they keep their son's memory alive and attend these ceremonies with his people-- us-- other broken families. He thanked his wife publicly for making this important to their family, because he is important and being open about your grief and sadness is important.

Another woman spoke of this being her 14th year at this ceremony and it being a tradition for her family as well; how the grief is easier now, but that it still makes her sad.

Claire spent the majority of the time crawling up to the front of the sanctuary and trying to get her little hands on those shiny ornaments. I pulled her back each time, knowing there were people sitting there, hoping they would have a child accompanying them to future ceremonies. How they wish that were them right now. We've been that family. Claire found a toddler boy and spent her time entertaining him by handing him a Chapstick and then giggling, over and over again. That same mom and son were there the year prior and sat behind us-- they are missing their firstborn son that bears the same name as ours. It's really a comradery. It's not quite the same as my group of blogging friends that dragged me through that whole first year and still are there supporting, but it was nice to see familiar faces, shed similar tears, and nod with the understanding that only a family who has lost a child can really comprehend.

Wearing her rainbow hat, made by the grandma of a good BLM friend of ours who also lost her daughter..
Benjamin first wore this hat along with 14 other rainbows at our first babyloss get together here in Chicago.

Benjamin was practicing his terrible two stage of fun by tantruming in the car for the first 20 minutes of the ceremony. These can last upwards of 2-3 hours lately, so I didn't think they would be coming inside. But, miraculously there was an apology given and they arrived in the sanctuary just as the names were being read. We walked as a family of four to hang an ornament for our five. I lit the candle and Benjamin hung the ornament for Andrew on the tree. That moment was really special {except after he walked down the aisle saying, "I all done...we go now...get cookies."}

No photos from the ceremony of our middle child, but here he is all dressed dapper after nap in his collared shirt and sweater.
(because he refuses to wear any jackets at all and therefore I must dress him in the warmest clothes possible!)

I knew there were families there that saw our family of four (one boy! one girl! jackpot!) and thought to themselves that we were the lucky ones. We may have lost, but look what we have now. We have hope. And, we do. We truly feel thankful for the squealing little girl who was literally crawling through the pews under peoples' legs during the ceremony and the boy who was thrashing himself in his carseat because I don't even remember why (and neither did he). That first year after losing Andrew, we attended, quite pregnant with our rainbow baby. We saw the families around us with children and hoped that would be us. We even talked about the hope we had to bring our future children there each year to celebrate the life of our firstborn and keep his memory alive in the midst of the present-buying, cookie-exhanging, Santa-picture-taking madness.

Here we are. Hope has arrived. May there be many more (other peoples' rainbow children) in that sanctuary next year and years to come.

Made an apple pie yesterday with initials of December babies we miss, just because. Grief baking and eating + apples that needed to be eaten = humble pie for sure.