Thursday, January 26, 2006

Hanging out with my boys

Today me and my boys are just hangin' out at the crib. Literally.

And what's that, you say? Is Sproutie really laying on his tummy, holding up his head? He sure is!
I am for real and for sure once and for all potty-training ZimDee for good. And this kid is savvy, let me tell you. He has been able to "pee-dee" in the toilet for over a year, but never never has he "poo-deed" in there. I do not know why. Oh, yeah, he knows when he needs to go. Witnessed by him changing his own pull-ups to be able to doodie in a fresh one, then asked to be "chennged". And there is nothing yuckier than big boy's poo-die. I won't even go there. I would have loved to have potty-trained him sooner, and believe me, I tried, but being so sick pregnant with Sproutie, then nursing him after he was born did not allow me to jump up at a moment's notice to take Zim to the toilet. Not that he would ask, believe me. But the last and final straw happened late Monday night when we found that Zim had re-carpeted and re-wallpapered his room in poop. Yeah. It seems that he felt the urge to poo-dee but did not allow himself enough time to change to a fresh pull-up before it came out. It looks like he tried to either clean it or cover it up with pull-ups, like that would fool us. After that, there was no messing around. This kid is going to get potty-trained, whatever we have to do, the Count announced. We will sit on him and make sure he uses the toilet 24 hours a day, the Count also proclaimed. (Aren't husband proclamations great, especially when they're at work all day, and whatever they're proclaiming falls entirely on our shoulders?) Believe me, I agree, but maybe just a little help...?
So I've kept us pretty much holed in this week to potty-train in full force. I called ZimDee's school and said we were taking the week off, and would return when Mr. Zim is completely pull-up free. I have done small, darting errands, less than 45 minutes at a time, and so far little boy pants return dry. There have been some small wet incidents, that are getting less and less frequent. On Monday he peed all over the wooden chair he was sitting in. He knows better than that. I think he was testing me. With underwear on, he peed in them only once the rest of the day. But that's because he went without underwear after that. Tuesday also brought only one wet pair of underwear, with his boys hanging free again after that. Yesterday no wet pants--yay--with most of the day in underwear. In the past he has treated underwear as just another receptacle to pee and poop in. That is slowly changing, but not as fast as I'd like.
Thankfully thankfully he doesn't pee-dee when he's sleeping, so he goes all night with dry pants. I consider that a very big blessing.
But here's the problem--he hasn't poo-deed since Monday's bedroom redecorating incident. No, he hasn't hidden it anywhere because I've been on him like white on rice. Is he that good at withholding? This is getting scary now.
And that's all the news I have on that very captivating subject.

In knitting news, I went to the Wednesday night knitting group at the other store, and loved it, loved it, loved it. The store is not new; it has been open for about 8 years. I've driven by it forever without stopping because it looked like someone's house. But it is a well-hidden secret. The store is well-stocked in every size addi needles (my favorite) and carries great quality yarns in ALL colors. The owner, Cheryl, is very welcoming and knowledgable. She greeted me at the door and made sure there was room for me at the table. Over the course of the evening about ten other knitters showed up, and there was not an annoying one in the bunch. No divas, no prima donnas, no teacher's pets. Cheryl's time was divided evenly among all of us. We talked stitches, needles, kids, in-laws, families, and I had a great time. I finally learned how to "finish" my garments, which means stitching, sewing the pieces of a sweater or pants together by hand. I could have winged it, but I didn't want to spend all those hours lovingly knitting up the garments to haphazardly throw them together when I was done. Cheryl was very encouraging and available. (This is the same project I had brought to the Monday night knitting group where teacher there shouted from across the room "just sew it"). Cheryl is probably my mom's age, and she is a grandma. I'd like to adopt her as my grandma. At the end of the night she invited me to continue being a part of the group. I told her I would love to. yay.

So logistic-wise, this is how it will go. I have paid up for three more sessions with the Monday night group (unless teacher shorts me again, which she has tried to do twice before). I will attend both groups until my time with Monday group runs out, then I will only go to Wednesday night group. Monday night group is closer, just around the corner from my house, but Wednesday is only about 15 minutes away. Monday group is cheaper (6 sessions for the price of Wednesday's 4), and Monday group offers a 10% discount on all purchases made in class, but I will gladly forego all of that to LEARN WHAT I ACTUALLY WANT TO LEARN and to BE TREATED WITH RESPECT as a valued member of the group and not just a number to fill a class. That's just it, what bothers me so much about Monday night group: I used to travel and teach craft and technique classes, and I knew the importance of making sure that each and every person in the class left there feeling like they accomplished something, and that they all got a piece of my unrushed, individual attention. Even if they weren't having a problem they needed help with, I would offer encouragement or a thumbs-up. I know how to treat people right, and I know when I'm not being treated right. So I'm moving on, ladies and gentlemen! Can I get an amen?

By the way, I know I said I was done talking about the toilet training, but I just wanted to add that the Count wants to make the trip to see his family this weekend. The FOUR HOUR trip. I asked him how he thought he might do this in the middle of potty-training, especially when Zim has missed school just so we could get this done. The Count says he has it under control. He says he will pull over every half an hour (as if--I see this happening MAYBE the first half hour, then him not being as vigilant about it). Also, great, I have to put up will all of my in-laws' comments and innuendos about ZimDee not being potty-trained sooner or how skinny Sprout is. Their favorite way to start a sentence with me is "How come you don't........(fill in the blank here)". The Count will get so caught up in the frenzy of his overwhelming clan that complete potty-training duty will be left up to me, in a house that's not my own in an environment where ZimDee can't roam free while the Count decides to spend all day fishing or crabbing or both. My free time is so limited these days that it's hard for me to spend time somewhere where I'm not appreciated, and I might even go so far as to say disrespected. But I do it for the Count and the kids, because I know (I truly do know) how precious time with your family can be, especially now that I rarely get it myself. When Sproutie isn't nursing anymore I will probably do what I did before he was born, and that is send the Count and the kids without me (and knit all the livelong weekend while they're gone). To keep my sanity this weekend, I absolutely reserve the right to go to a movie, any movie, by myself while I'm there, and to seek out the local yarn store and run my fingers through some wonderful fibers to ground myself again.

Speaking of movies, I don't yet see any takers for the current movie line contest. Scroll down to find the line and enter.



Luv2ReedGrandma said...

Hi. Yet you Choose to go to the coast this rainy weekend? Better than staying home with two boys alone, and not having your girl, or help, either? In any case, I send good healthy thoughts your way, and wish you the best of luck.
Love, K

McKenna said...

I actoly can`t beleave I went into Zimdees POOPY room when he pooped all over it!

Stephanie said...

Well, you can't deny the boy's artistic talent Unka Shaina...

Anonymous said...

Yes, Stephny, I might make an interior designer out of him yet. We just have to help him find his artistic niche, then his talent can really blossom.
L2RGma, I do not choose to go to the coast. If I could stay home with two boys that would be swell. Or if I could actually SEE the coast when we go down there to in-law land. You would think that a return to my birthplace would be healing for me, but there's nobody down there for me anymore. But the kids have uncles and relatives that haven't seen them in a while, and the Count needs his fix of fish eyeballs and pickled monkey ears, voodoo that I refuse to make here at my house. To add insult to injury, the Count's shall we say, stretchy-the-truth-a-bit-muchy brother-in-law is riding down with us. Four hours of this insanity. The Count will owe me big time for putting up with this nonsense.

Luv2ReedGrandma said...

Haha what a joy to read your blogs! Fish eyeballs and voodoo, oh Haha. Such 'adjavites' haha for brother-in-law. I love the well-fed skinny little polywog, and the marathan winner ZimDee on this leg of the race. Have a good weekend, oh haha. LuvU2,jk

McKenna said...