When They're Ready...

I have had yet another lesson in the "they'll do it when they're ready" theory. Olivia has been 3 for over a month and it was starting to bother me that she was showing no interest in potty training. Especially considering her initial interest in the potty started around 20 mos., so I was shocked that she was one of the last girls of our acquaintance to move out of diapers. And of course, even though I knew better, it had started to make me wonder if I had done something as a parent or instead, if I didn't do something that I was supposed to. The doubts and questions were all over my head..."should I have pushed more?", "did I push too much too early?", "did I say something that made her feel pressured?", "do I need to force the issue more?"...ahh gotta love the mother guilt...damned if you do, damned if you don't.

So last week I came out of Malia's room, after getting her down for a nap, to find Livy closing the lid to the toilet and pulling up her underwear. Huh? Seems that Livy found the underwear in a laundry basket (I think Dad had let her wear it over a diaper recently) and decided she really wanted to wear it. And she knew that to wear it meant you went peeps on the potty. In fact, her first words to me as I found her in the bathroom that day were, "I go peeps on the potty WITHOUT Mommy and Daddy." Oh little Miss Independent! It has been exactly one week since that day in the bathroom, and although the first two days had a number of accidents, we have been accident-free since then. She has even pooped on the potty, which I thought was going to require an act of Congress, but instead just required an act of Livy I guess.

All this comes down to the most basic rule of child-rearing, but one that is so easy to ignore/forget/overlook/underestimate, which is that a child will do something when they are good and ready. Whether it's to potty train, eat solid foods, or fall asleep on their own...we adults want it on our timeline yet it's just not realistic to expect their little bodies and minds to conform to our timelines or needs. Not to mention that it takes away what is natural and empowering for them. So having learned this lesson yet again, I am empowered by my child and reminded that I need to listen to her needs and respect her timeline. And I know that I will re-learn this lesson over and over throughout my years of raising my girls. Having watched my little girl master her bodily functions in one week's time, I am reminded that when I leave it to their own developmental timeline, the process will be faster, easier and much more comfortable for all of us. I'm glad I let Olivia set her own timeline for potty training...I hope I can remember this lesson over the coming months and years!

Where Does the Day Go?

Now that we are in the throes of potty training, I hold an even greater awareness of the minutes and hours that fly by in my day. I've always dreaded the hours after 4:00 p.m. , as they seem to fly by in less than 20 minutes and every time I look up at the clock, I'm always amazed that it's already 5:30 and past time to start dinner. As a stay-at-home mom I have come to realize that the day has the ability to either fly by or creep snail-like by, however that dinner time hour flies by no matter what.


I have watched as all of my friends have potty trained their toddlers and although I did see them having to run for bathrooms, change soiled clothing and constantly harass their toddler about their need to use the potty, I don't recall anyone mentioning just how much time they spend daily talking about, thinking about and actually going to the potty. Not only do I have a timer running in my house daily to remind both my busy toddler and my pea-brained self that we must visit the toilet often, but the time expended within the bathroom is mind-boggling. I'm not sure whether it takes more time for Livy to actually pee, or to wash her hands...we can sit and play at both the potty and the sink.

Even deciding which potty to use can take awhile. And of course, one must leave time for the toddler mind, which likes to change as soon as it's made a decision. "I want to use the big potty." "NO BIG POTTY, I WANT TO USE THE LITTLE POTTY!!", said with total and complete outrage...in the vain of "how dare you mommy?" Ah yes, silly me for going with your first decision when really I should come to expect that you're going to say you thing, then want the other. I'm obviously still a novice here...

Edited to add: After only a week or so of potty training, Livy was fully using the toilet and she had gained much greater control over how often she needed to use the potty, which enabled me to think about a lot more than her bodily functions. Thank goodness!

A Day of Poop

My day started at Conejo Creek Park dealing with duck poop...Livy got it on her shoes, shirt, pants, hands...then later took off her shoes and ran on the grass...hence the poop on her feet. The picnic blankets then had poop on the bottom and on the top once Livy ran across them with poop-feet. And keeping Malia out of duck poop and off the grass once we were picnicking was insanely challenging. The poop is still lingering in the wheels of my stroller and who knows when it'll be gone? I NEVER want to see duck poop again in my LIFE!

However, poop was a welcome sight in the potty tonight. Olivia pooped on the potty for the first time, yahoo! I was beginning to think this day would never come! She also was really good at telling us when she had to pee, so that was a huge step today as well. I think potty training is officially happening and although we've had a day or two of set-backs, we are on our way and seeing some major success. PHEW!

The Age of Wonder(ing)

"Mama, why's that guy have no shirt on?", the question coming from the backseat as we were driving home today. Olivia is in the age of wonder, the age where questions fly about regarding anything from ear piercing to popcorn to stinky cars on the road. I love it. I love that she is so curious, and that the things that we take for granted, the everyday experiences we encounter are not so every-day for my toddler. However...it is certainly not easy to come up with explanations for all of these questions...and harder still to explain these things in simple terms.

I find some of the hardest thing to explain are scientific things, like why the sky is blue and not purple, but even harder still are societal rules and values, like why men can go topless and women can't. Similarly, why mommy wears a bra but daddy doesn't. My girl is the queen of observation, and is especially curious about names. She wants to know the name of the girl who sold us groceries, and the makeup I put on my eyelashes. She has discovered that nearly everything around her has a label and she'd like to know all of them. Truly one of the biggest gifts of raising a toddler is the appreciation you have for their curiosity and your own re-discovery of how cool the world really is.

Crash...bang...bruise!

Every 30 minutes or so, there is a crash or bang that makes you wince, followed by a round of crying or possibly screaming which requires you to run to the wounded soldier. The time elapse between the cries alerts you to how slight or major the resulting injury is, with long stretches telling you the injured party is quite terribly hurt or upset by the incident.

And so it goes, all day long, every day in our house right now. And adding to the fun is that it's anyone's guess who will be hurt next, as our resident 3-year old daredevil is hurt almost as much as our cruising, pull-up-on-anything-completely unsturdy 8-month old. Malia is certainly injured more often though, with more bruises than a week-old banana. Talk about mommy guilt...nothing more fun than toting about a kid whose face shouts to the world there is a CPS-worthy case of child abuse. Right now on her face I count 2 very large, brown bruises (with that hint of yellow/green to make 'em look really good), one on each side of her forehead. In the middle of said forehead are 3 scratches and a large red spot above, (expecting a bruise here in the near future), while her nose sports a bright red scratch as well. For awhile her eye was also sporting a nice bruise right above the crease, which made for a lovely black eye look. That one sure makes a mom feel good...it's almost a reminder that your kid could've lost an eye in the incident, but thankfully didn't. Ah, there's that mother's guilt again.

As much as having an accident-prone, active toddler has acclimated me to skinned knees and bumped heads, I had forgotten how painful it is to watch your baby get hurt so frequently each day. Given the variety of activities she attempts each day, it really is no surprise that she gets hurt so often, but it really doesn't make it any easier to bear witness to. The girl pulls up on every possible tall item, regardless of it's sturdiness or ability to hold weight, and all I can do is appreciate her attempts to scientifically challenge the laws of physics with her hypothesis and resulting painful conclusions. And somehow, not only does she fall, but she falls to the side and somehow rolls as well, hitting more than a few body parts against the ground. Why the roll? Just to ensure something actually gets hurt? Not to mention the slow motion of the fall, which taunts me into thinking that somehow if I had lightning fast reaction time, I might have been able to prevent the painful fall. And why are these falls so much more frequent on the hard-as-a-rock tile floors? I can identify the smack of her head on the tile better than I can identify which kid is crying, it's that unique and horrifying of a sound. My heart stops every time I hear it...and then begins again once I hear the awful, long and drawn out cry that follows and means she's really hurt. UGH. How your heart breaks for your children...it's something that surely won't get any easier.

A budding fashionista

Getting dressed for me is always a chore; what's clean, what goes with what, what makes me look good, what covers my spare tire, what works with my bra...so many considerations and issues for such a basic need.

However, if you are my daughter Olivia, the sky is the limit in terms of clothing options; she LOVES clothes. Not just any clothes mind you, but girlie clothes. The more ruffles, polka dots, colors and embroidery, the more she loves it. And it MUST be a dress or a skirt. She refuses to wear pants, even on a cold, rainy day and insists on wearing tights most days, unless it is uncommonly hot. And if I let her have free reign over the combination of dress and tights or shirt, skirt and tights...wow...the vision she creates is quite spectacular. We have hearts, dots and flashy colors all competing to upstage one another; it's truly breathtaking.

Once dressed, it's time to accessorize, which Olivia also tackles with great flair. If it's not a day for ears (Minnie Mouse, kitty cat or Tigger), she'll choose either a regular headband or some fancy barrettes. Then it's onto the shoes...we go in spurts whether her favorite are black mary-janes, pink Ugg-style boots or fabulous princess shoes that are only for indoor play use but that she tries to wear most days. Her Disney princess shoes are a true favorite and have been for about a year now. The girl actually walks better in high heels than I do with all the practice she's had in them, and she used to try to put them on every little friend that came through our door, including the boys. She was quite generous in her sharing of the shoes. I used to refer to her as "little Imelda" for her Imelda Marcos-like shoe obsession.

She so enjoys getting dressed, that she changes outfits multiple times a day. One day she changed her skirt 6 times (between 4 different skirts). She changes them during naptime, reaching into the armoire for a new one. Or she'll grab one from a clean laundry basket sitting around waiting to be unloaded. I can't recall how many times I've entered her room after she's been put down for bed at night only to find her in one of her favorite tank tops and skirts, pj's thrown to the side as worthless rubbish. What fashion is there in pajamas, I mean really? Funny that I change my clothes every time I come home, getting into my yoga pants to get comfy, while her outfit changes are more likely into less comfortable clothing, like flouncy dresses, tight tank tops and high heels. Crazy girl.

So yesterday was a gorgeous 75-degree day in Ventura (February 3rd mind you) and we're getting ready to head out to Trader Joe's to fill the fridge. I take off my yoga pants (my home uniform it seems) and am grabbing my jean capris (yep, don't have to think twice- jeans) when Liv says, and I quote, "Mommy, please wear a skirt." As in, hey mom, why don't you switch things up a bit and try to dress cute for once? Recently she has taken to asking me if I'm wearing pants, even when she can clearly see I'm wearing pants. "You wearing pants mama?" and I always say, "yep, I'm wearing pants baby." We've even had discussions about the fact that mom likes to wear pants while Livy doesn't like pants, only dresses and skirts. It's pretty darn funny, and very cute. But it's starting to make me wonder if maybe I'm looking pretty ragged and mom-ish and my daughter's trying to drop the hint that I need to step things up a bit. Scary considering she's 3 and I'm going on 33...