Kate's a big girl!

What a big week it's been for Kate. She's potty training now and has been pretty successful in her pretty panties for the last week. Trained by the grace of God and sheer determination by my nearly-two-year-old.

Due to the potty-training, we moved her to a big girl bed too. (That really just means changing crib to toddler bed, but still, it's a big move.) She's done pretty well. She cries when I put her to bed now, but otherwise, has been great. She hasn't figured out to come out, and doesn't tear things off of her shelves or anything (yet). So far, so good.

As if that isn't enough, she got a new, big girl haircut. Since Miss Kate is against having her hair brushed, let alone pulled up or back or heaven-forbid with a barrette, I asked Rebecca to layer the back and not worry about the length. It's really very cute-- makes her eyes look so big. I don't have a good photograph yet, but you can see it in the pictures below.

Where did my baby go?!

BMB: Earned Potty Average

I told my husband last night that I think motherhood stress can be judged by a new statistic: Earned Potty Average. Its a count of the average number of times you go to the potty (there's that word again) in one hour. Use the following scale to determine daily craziness:


Less than 1: Big deal. I mean, my co-worker goes more than that on his own. You either have kids in diapers, which require entirely different statistics, or you've graduated to having potty soloists.

1-2: Average average. Maybe you have a preschooler that needs help wiping or a short daughter that can't reach the paper towels, but you're time committed is minimal. You're on your way to graduation!

2-3: Potty training is in season. You're definitely in there often enough to get to know the full lay of the land. Do you have to sing or read a book? Bonus points for that. You're probably even making a couple of unnecessary trips a day. Maybe a separate ratio should be tallyed for successful to unsuccessful trips. The lower the ratio, the more likely it is that we're eating out for dinner tonight. And don't ask why.

3-4: So sorry. At this level, you either have multiple potty trainers (twins, close-in-age children), or need to consult a doctor about potential bladder problems. I can't even imagine this level of potty trips, much less gather enough patience, encouraging words, or books to make those trips enjoyable. You probably need to consider investing in one of those blow-up portable potty seats a stranger told me about yesterday-- then little joey can go anywhere anytime! (As long as he can hold it long enough for you to blow up the seat, add the liner, and find a hidden place to put it.)

Oh, the drama.

BMB: Stupid Potty

I admit it. I hate potty training. I mean, it seems like a really good idea-- no more diaper changing: whee! A child who can take care of their own business seems like a true accomplishment.


That's the rub right there, really: no newly potty-trained child is really taking care of their own business. It requires you, the designated responsible party, to remind them to go, join them in the bathroom, wipe, and wash hands. Not to mention the book-reading while perched precariously on the side of the bath tub. The problem is, potty-trained is actually more high maintenance than untrained for quite some time.

Even the word "potty" sounds stupid. Yet, it's one of those fine examples of parenting vocabulary that has a way of slipping itself into my adult life. As in, "Excuse me, I am really enjoying this meeting about the resuscitation of the economy, but I need to use the potty."

So, even though I do want my children to become productive self-pottying members of society, I dread every step of the process required to get them there. Every accident is not only an inconvenience, but also a signal of parenting failure. It has nothing to do with the particular child who is actually going to the potty (or not); it has everything to do with mom. All the other moms look at you like, "Oh, well she started too soon" or "she's obviously not following-through on the program" or "she's definitely not using the Dr. Phil plan." It's all yet another opportunity to match up my own personal potty-training skills with the others and see who comes out on top.

Therefore, I will continue to hate potty-training until the line of true self-sufficiency is crossed. In an ideal world, I would wake up one day and find both children perfectly dry and ready to go in their Buzz Lightyear or Princess undies. Until that day comes, I'm a hater.

Soccer Pics

Sam had two soccer games this weekend-- a regular game and a make-up. The first game was more of the same-- general confusion with scattered moments of joy. However, some sort of light bulb went on for Sam in the second game. It involved figuring out the timing of it all-- kicking it harder so that he could get ahead of the pack. He scored 3 goals! It was great. Not that we're keeping score or care at all about the outcome of the game (okay, one of us does), but it was really fun and he had fun too. In that first picture above, he's just scored his first goal. You can maybe tell it's an emotional cocktail of shock and pride.

Unfortunately, there is no pic of my favorite soccer moment of the weekend: that being when a little guy from Sam's team decided to throw down with a guy from the other team. Not once, but twice. If you've never seen a 4/5 year old thump his chest as if to say, "bring it", then you are really missing out. On something. Not sure what exactly, but it was something to see.