Posts Tagged ‘potty training’

Because Steph Brought Up Potty Training And We Won’t Be Outdone!

Saturday, August 2nd, 2008

Concerning Dagny, Steph and Doug’s little girl, and her fellow October birthday girl, Tiller, we are also on the Potty Train. I just got completely fed up with all things diaper – Changing them, smelling them, buying them. We bought a buttload of undies (pun intended) – Hello Kitty, Dora, etc. At first she was resistant, and at this point, she is peeing on the potty regularly, but we are having poop problems. She comes to us and says “I want to poop on the potty.” We check her and she has already pooped in her undies. We tell her poop goes in the potty. She cries and says, “But i want to poop on the potty.” We say, “You already pooped in your pants!” She falls on the ground and kicks her legs and flails around on the ground like a fish out of water. Repeat at least once a day, sometimes twice.

I know that sooner or later she will get it, but so far, we got nothin.’ We’re sticking with it, though, because as soon as we are off diapers, we are also going to stop getting the stupid plastic Kroger bags that we currently use to dispose of dirty diapers, and instead, we’re gonna be all green, with cute totes to take to the grocery store.

That’s what I call parental incentive to stick with potty training. It’s all about the cute bag. Like this bitchin’ number made by our friend Nikki in Seattle. She is very crafty, that Nikki. . . .

On the Genetics of M and M Sorting

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008

We’ve been using M&Ms to bribe Tiller into using the potty. (I don’t want to hear the “you are going to give her an eating disorder” comments, either.) So far, it’s not working well, but I can totally use them as good-behavior-inducing after-dinner treats. I’ve been counting Weight Watcher’s points again, hoping to kick my weight loss back into gear (working out alone just doesn’t do crap for me), but when i saw the diminutive little individual bags, i thought, “Oh, I’ll just have one and count the points later.” Big mistake: Four points!!!! They are the devil.

I went into the den, turned on Jeopardy, opened the bag and dumped them out on the coffee table. I separated the M&Ms into colors, then put each color group into a little line, so that i could see how many of each color I had. Then, i ate from the colors with the most candies, until i had evened out the lines. Then, I proceeded to eat the m&ms one at a time, taking one from each color line (brown first) until they were all gone.

At some point, Tiller came in, having inhaled her M&Ms, asking for more. “Nope,” I said, “you need to go put your dishes in the sink and then go up and wash your hands.” Finishing up my own neatly-ordered portion, I realized I hadn’t heard much out of Rollie. Cleaning up my wrapper and grabbing my drink glass, I walked back into the kitchen, belting out a “Rollie, what are you doing, buddy? It’s time to clean up and hit the showers!”

“Mama, I’m not finished yet!” he yelled back.

I looked at the kitchen table and came to a screeching halt. Rollie was intently looking down at his M&Ms, all laid out neatly in piles, organized by color. I watched him for a moment.

“Rollie, what are you doing?”

“Eating my M&Ms!”

“You put them in little piles?”


“By color?”


“I used to do that when i was a little girl.”

“You did, mama?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said with a smile. “You come on up and get ready for a bath when you get done with the M&Ms, okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” he replied, not once taking his eyes off the little colored piles, his eyes scanning them, as he carefully picked one and popped it into his mouth.

Sometimes genetics are just downright weird. And sometimes they are kind of sweet.

Smart Cookie

Tuesday, July 31st, 2007

Husband goes out of town and, in excitement over evening of unadulterated control of television, Annie drinks a complete bottle of wine over the course of the evening.

Very with it this morning at 7 a.m. when son pooped on potty (so proud!) and then came in and asked me to wipe his butt. Who needs coffee?

Waiting for nap time. For me. I need a nap.

I thought that I had learned that, as my Mama says, “The wages of sin are not always death.” For the non-Southerner, I believe that translates to “Don’t drink a shitload when you have to get up with two kids under four the next day.”

Poop Jokes are Funny

Wednesday, April 11th, 2007

They really are.

Yesterday afternoon, I was changing Tiller. When one of the kids has a really large poopy diaper, I exclaim “Poop-O-Rama!” Everyone gets excited. Tiller was excited about her Poop-O-Rama, and as she is starting to mimic everything we say, she let out a gleeful, “Poop-O-Mama!!!”

Today, I had Rollie try to go on the potty. I try to remind him hourly and after eating or drinking. Today has been a banner day – so far, no poop in the diaper. Only on the potty. To my joy, Rollie said, “I have to go poop.” I told him to go, go, go. He rushed to the bathroom, took off his pants and diaper, sat up on the toilet, and closed the bathroom door. He sat for a second, and I was on the couch waiting to hear something from him, when he opened up the door and darted out towards his toy box.

Me: “Did you poop?”

Rollie: “No, I just need to get a magazine.”

Such a little man.

Why Cats are Superior

Tuesday, January 9th, 2007

They know when to cut their losses. When things are going kinda crappy with the offspring, they just go ahead and eat the little fuckers.

My day started with hunger, because I am dieting, and then I am not allowed to eat anything until the lady gets here to take my blood and urine for the life insurance policy we are taking out on me in case (duh) I die, which of course doesn’t give one a whole lot of incentive to fast, because what the hell are you going to get out of it, anyway. Todd is a sweetheart and got up with the kids so that I could sleep as long as possible and not have to sit around hungry. I got up at 9 a.m. (the high point of the day). I started my period.

I proceeded to drink black coffee until the nurse arrived at 10. The kids cried and whined and bugged the crap out of the nurse while she asked me about every runny nose I have ever had, and the name, number, and address of the doctor for which I saw each runny nose. She then tried to take blood from one arm, then the other, then my hand. It was awesome. I peed in a cup and there was blood in it and i had to explain to her that I was on the rag. Lovely. Did I mention she brought her own scale? It said I was 9 pounds heavier than my scale says I am. Fucking great.
Todd called to say that he wouldn’t be home for lunch. By the time the nurse left it was noon. I put lunch on for the kids. I ate my crap diet lunch. I tried to watch Antiques Roadshow while the kids ran around pushing their cars and shopping cart and couldn’t hear a thing. I shut off the t.v. and finished eating while staring out the window at a squirrel. I did the breakfast and lunch dishes, and put on dinner. I changed two poopy diapers.

Went upstairs, read to the kids, and then put them down for their naps. This consists of putting down Matilda, and then tucking Rollie in, shutting the gate, blowing kisses, asking him to please, please, please not wake Tiller because Mama will be mad, and please stay in bed, and don’t make any noise, and maybe when we get up we will watch Curious George and eat snacks, Yes, raisins, and please? And then i hope for the best.

I laid down for an hour, and I could tell Rollie wasn’t asleep, because he was talking the whole time, but it never occurred to me that he was up there taking off his diaper, putting the poop into the back of the remote control truck, and then taking little pieces and running them over with the treads of his monster truck and smushing them into the carpet, and running the truck roughshod over the books he had pulled off his shelves, which were now empty.

When I finally went up to check on him, he was standing naked at the gate, smiling at me. He went over and picked up two little pieces of poop, one in each hand, and held them out to me, palm up, as if in offering. When I opened the gate, he cheerfully walked around the corner and turned his palms over above the toilet, neatly depositing them into the bowl, then turning to me in expectation of approval.

I think he may be slightly retarded.

After that, I gave him a bath, put Batman underwear on him, and with the exception of the times when we are out, at school, napping, or sleeping, he will Goddamn be wearing them, until he is potty trained. So help me God, amen.