It's that time again. That horrible, no good time. The time when Chris and I have to actually put some effort into potty training a child. And let's face it. We sort of suck at the whole potty training thing. We are half hearted potty trainers. Sure, I can rock out the Potty Power song, and sing my heart out about "doing it yourself," but at the end of the day, the truth still hurts. I hate it and I'm not good at it.
I was putting some effort into our own episode of The Return of the Potty a few days ago. After Griffin wowed me with his potty prowess and managed to eek out some business on the throne, he turned to me, smiled and said, "Mommy, are you just SOOOO happy right now?"
I interrupted my humming of "potty power!" to assure him that yes, I was just soooo happy at his potty efforts.
He clapped his hands, helped me pull up his pants and said, "Good, because now you are my princess! My Potty Princess!"
"Wow, a princess? Really?" I asked laughing, "And a potty princess at that?"
Griffin nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, what does a potty princess get to do anyway G?" I inquired.
Griffin thought for a second and said, "You get to wear lots of special hats."
That's me. The potty princess rocking it out in her special hats. Potty Power to all!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Insanity
You think I'd be used to it by now. But the craziness of summer has wiped me out. We spent our weekend running from one engagement to the next, kids in tow. We didn't stop running until Sunday night and unfortunately for me, I had to work this morning.
We started Saturday with a tennis lesson for the boys. After tennis, we hustled home to change and hurry on to church for a full mass in honor of my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary. After mass, we stayed to hear my grandparents renew their vows. My grandmother's eyes glistened as she barely whispered out her vows to my grandfather. I only hope to be as happy after fifty years.
We had a family luncheon after the renewal ceremony. Then we hustled home, again, to change for a birthday party. Pizza, cake and gymnastics oh my! I pleaded exhaustion after two hours of trampoline fun and told Chris he had to head on out to our last party of the day (night) alone. I tucked the kiddies and myself into bed early.
We spent Sunday morning at a surprise birthday brunch. Aidan had a golf lesson in the afternoon, followed by a tee time for Chris. I snuck in some tennis. We finished up with dinner at the pool with a side of swimming. (Required when you haven't found time to grocery shop in almost three weeks.)
It hasn't been a particularly nice summer in the Northeast - rain, rain and more rain has led us to believe we have relocated to the Pacific Northwest, but not even the rain and a few clouds has slowed our Buffalo summer down.
We started Saturday with a tennis lesson for the boys. After tennis, we hustled home to change and hurry on to church for a full mass in honor of my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary. After mass, we stayed to hear my grandparents renew their vows. My grandmother's eyes glistened as she barely whispered out her vows to my grandfather. I only hope to be as happy after fifty years.
We had a family luncheon after the renewal ceremony. Then we hustled home, again, to change for a birthday party. Pizza, cake and gymnastics oh my! I pleaded exhaustion after two hours of trampoline fun and told Chris he had to head on out to our last party of the day (night) alone. I tucked the kiddies and myself into bed early.
We spent Sunday morning at a surprise birthday brunch. Aidan had a golf lesson in the afternoon, followed by a tee time for Chris. I snuck in some tennis. We finished up with dinner at the pool with a side of swimming. (Required when you haven't found time to grocery shop in almost three weeks.)
It hasn't been a particularly nice summer in the Northeast - rain, rain and more rain has led us to believe we have relocated to the Pacific Northwest, but not even the rain and a few clouds has slowed our Buffalo summer down.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
It was the Bathing Suit
After a year and some of swim team and many years of swim lessons (screaming his way through at least two years of those), Aidan made his swim meet debut this evening.
There is a swim team uniform, that I, of course, forgot to buy until this afternoon approximately one and a half hours prior to the meet. (I am nothing if not organized. Well, okay, in all fairness to myself I did try to buy it yesterday,but my car broke down in a crowded intersection on my way to the store and well, that's a story for another time.)
When I brought home his fancy, schamncy speedo swimsuit, Aidan's eyes lit up like he won the Olympic medal. He's a swimmer and he looks like one too. He pranced and preened right up until we left for the meet.
When we got to the meet, Aidan confessed he was nervous to swim. I, honestly, was just as nervous for him. The mass of people, the popping of the start gun, the loud announcer - it can all be really overwhelming. My heart thudded as I watched him preparing to dive off the block. He, however, looked calm and composed while he waited for the start.
True to form, Aidan surprised us all, even himself, and took first place in his heat. First place to my baby! I was embarrassingly proud of him. I was that mother, cheering as I ran along the pool, dodging people along the way. I yelled too loud, was too excited, and loved every single second of it.
I was proud of his confidence and proud of his joy. After the match, I heard him tell our friends Christine and Dylan that he only went that fast because of his new bathing suit. Yep, it was all the bathing suit alright.
There is a swim team uniform, that I, of course, forgot to buy until this afternoon approximately one and a half hours prior to the meet. (I am nothing if not organized. Well, okay, in all fairness to myself I did try to buy it yesterday,but my car broke down in a crowded intersection on my way to the store and well, that's a story for another time.)
When I brought home his fancy, schamncy speedo swimsuit, Aidan's eyes lit up like he won the Olympic medal. He's a swimmer and he looks like one too. He pranced and preened right up until we left for the meet.
When we got to the meet, Aidan confessed he was nervous to swim. I, honestly, was just as nervous for him. The mass of people, the popping of the start gun, the loud announcer - it can all be really overwhelming. My heart thudded as I watched him preparing to dive off the block. He, however, looked calm and composed while he waited for the start.
True to form, Aidan surprised us all, even himself, and took first place in his heat. First place to my baby! I was embarrassingly proud of him. I was that mother, cheering as I ran along the pool, dodging people along the way. I yelled too loud, was too excited, and loved every single second of it.
I was proud of his confidence and proud of his joy. After the match, I heard him tell our friends Christine and Dylan that he only went that fast because of his new bathing suit. Yep, it was all the bathing suit alright.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Perspective
I had a freak out this morning. Our house is a disaster. And well it should be, since there is no time to pick up or clean up or do anything else that is required to maintain a home. We have barely had time to stop home to change or even sleep since we have returned from vacation. Summer activities are in full swing, friends and relatives from out of town are visiting - life is go, go, go!
Whew! So this morning, bright and early, I decided that I should make time to clean the floors, vacuum the rugs and scrub down the bathrooms. I had about an hour to squeeze it all in before the boys had to get to swim team and swim lessons. Rock on. It could be done, right?! Right?!
No. It can't be done. I am the queen of setting expectations for myself that simply can't be met. I get frustrated when I can not meet these expectations and then end up snapping at my children in the heat of the moment. Our hour of lazy Monday morning soon evolves into a stressful, crazy yelling Mommy morning. It's not a good look for me.
By the time we got to the pool for swim lessons, I felt like the worst parent ever. The worst, yelling impatient mean parent ever. After a few minutes of getting the boys settled, one of the other pool mothers walked over to me, smiled and said, "I just don't know how you do it."
I smiled back at her and laughed because she has three boys of her own, all the exact same ages as mine. I replied, "I don't know how WE do it," as I gestured to include her.
She shook her head and said, "No. Your boys are so sweet. They sit with you and listen to you. They'll eat lunch with you and chat with you. My boys don't do that. I don't know how you get yours to do all that, to act like that."
I smiled gratefully at her and thanked her. I told her I really needed those kind words to remind me what is important. Summer days full of sweet boys, my sweet, darling boys, are important. Clean floors, vacuumed rugs and scrubbed down bathrooms - not so much.
Whew! So this morning, bright and early, I decided that I should make time to clean the floors, vacuum the rugs and scrub down the bathrooms. I had about an hour to squeeze it all in before the boys had to get to swim team and swim lessons. Rock on. It could be done, right?! Right?!
No. It can't be done. I am the queen of setting expectations for myself that simply can't be met. I get frustrated when I can not meet these expectations and then end up snapping at my children in the heat of the moment. Our hour of lazy Monday morning soon evolves into a stressful, crazy yelling Mommy morning. It's not a good look for me.
By the time we got to the pool for swim lessons, I felt like the worst parent ever. The worst, yelling impatient mean parent ever. After a few minutes of getting the boys settled, one of the other pool mothers walked over to me, smiled and said, "I just don't know how you do it."
I smiled back at her and laughed because she has three boys of her own, all the exact same ages as mine. I replied, "I don't know how WE do it," as I gestured to include her.
She shook her head and said, "No. Your boys are so sweet. They sit with you and listen to you. They'll eat lunch with you and chat with you. My boys don't do that. I don't know how you get yours to do all that, to act like that."
I smiled gratefully at her and thanked her. I told her I really needed those kind words to remind me what is important. Summer days full of sweet boys, my sweet, darling boys, are important. Clean floors, vacuumed rugs and scrubbed down bathrooms - not so much.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Best Vacation
I am not sure I can put into words how wonderful our vacation was to the Outer Banks. After several days of beach and pool, of constant attention and love from a multitude of family members, Aidan turned to me and said intently, "This is the best vacation in my entire life."
I have to agree. I know I love my family. But there are times when I am immersed with them that I am overwhelmed with the fierceness of that love and how far it extends. The opportunity to see my family through my children's eyes, watching them as they are loved up by their uncles, cousins, aunts and grandparents - well, that is, to me, what life is all about.
We spent a week forgetting life includes having to put on shoes to go outside. The boys took all their showers outside next to the pool. Aidan learned how to play poker. All three boys stayed up way past their bedtime to chase crabs in the dark with flashlights on the beach. There was skim boarding and surfing and digging giant holes in the sand and collecting mini-oysters.
Our house was unbelievable. It was big enough that 28 people never seemed like too much. There was a game room with pool and foosball, a media room with video games and movies and sitting rooms galore to host our many board game sessions. (I learned I apparently suck at Scattegories. My cousins kicked my behind.) The boys loved having their very own pool and two hot tubs. I think they spent more time in the hot tubs than I did. Brennan could not get enough of the elevator and preferred to spend his mornings riding it up and down the three floors.
I documented the geezers vs. young uns as they took on both basketball and volleyball. Both games provided more than enough entertainment for the giggling spectators. And of course, I loved, once again, beating Seth and Travis in doubles tennis. Victory is sweet.
Each family was assigned a night to cook dinner for the group. Our night, Thursday night, was Mexican Fiesta. We had party favors of sombreros and chili pepper necklaces. We had Mexican tablecloths, a cactus cooler and even a hanging cut out for people to take pictures as flamenco dancers. Chris, Seth and Travis manned the grill and pool bar with mustaches and good humor. Travis even prepared a play list of Mexican tunes to groove by the pool. And there were, of course, margaritas in generous, oh so yummy quantities. Ole!
At the end of it all, I cried as we packed up the car and said our goodbyes. I didn't want to leave the beach, the house or most importantly, my family. As I brushed the tears away, my cousin Alli grabbed my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said, "You know most of us live like right across the street from you, right? I mean, I think we even have plans to see you all tomorrow."
She's right. They do. But I loved having us all together, there, on the beach with nothing to do but enjoy each other. It was a perfect vacation.
I have to agree. I know I love my family. But there are times when I am immersed with them that I am overwhelmed with the fierceness of that love and how far it extends. The opportunity to see my family through my children's eyes, watching them as they are loved up by their uncles, cousins, aunts and grandparents - well, that is, to me, what life is all about.
We spent a week forgetting life includes having to put on shoes to go outside. The boys took all their showers outside next to the pool. Aidan learned how to play poker. All three boys stayed up way past their bedtime to chase crabs in the dark with flashlights on the beach. There was skim boarding and surfing and digging giant holes in the sand and collecting mini-oysters.
Our house was unbelievable. It was big enough that 28 people never seemed like too much. There was a game room with pool and foosball, a media room with video games and movies and sitting rooms galore to host our many board game sessions. (I learned I apparently suck at Scattegories. My cousins kicked my behind.) The boys loved having their very own pool and two hot tubs. I think they spent more time in the hot tubs than I did. Brennan could not get enough of the elevator and preferred to spend his mornings riding it up and down the three floors.
I documented the geezers vs. young uns as they took on both basketball and volleyball. Both games provided more than enough entertainment for the giggling spectators. And of course, I loved, once again, beating Seth and Travis in doubles tennis. Victory is sweet.
Each family was assigned a night to cook dinner for the group. Our night, Thursday night, was Mexican Fiesta. We had party favors of sombreros and chili pepper necklaces. We had Mexican tablecloths, a cactus cooler and even a hanging cut out for people to take pictures as flamenco dancers. Chris, Seth and Travis manned the grill and pool bar with mustaches and good humor. Travis even prepared a play list of Mexican tunes to groove by the pool. And there were, of course, margaritas in generous, oh so yummy quantities. Ole!
At the end of it all, I cried as we packed up the car and said our goodbyes. I didn't want to leave the beach, the house or most importantly, my family. As I brushed the tears away, my cousin Alli grabbed my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said, "You know most of us live like right across the street from you, right? I mean, I think we even have plans to see you all tomorrow."
She's right. They do. But I loved having us all together, there, on the beach with nothing to do but enjoy each other. It was a perfect vacation.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
