New Potty Training Tactic

The boy who normally poops every single day without fail, has not pooped since Thursday.  Won't it eventually HAVE to just fall out of him?  The good news is that he doesn't want to poop in his underwear, but the bad news is that he also definitely doesn't want to poop in the toilet.  He breaks down.  In tears.  And coughs.  And gags, if I let it get that far.  Setting aside the psychobabble about what ails my child's brain, does anyone have some practical advice for helping soothe his fears of releasing over the toilet?

Here's what we tried yesterday.  It didn't work.  They made it almost the entire way through Robots with nary a pooplet in sight.  *Sigh*

P.S. At least the child is a piddling pro. :D

More on Prayers

Buddha: "We thank Thee for Buddha, Bugga, Mom, Dad, and the latest one, Karsten."

And later . . . .

Bugga: "Dear Heavenly Father, we thank Thee for Jesus, lettuce, sleep, and Mom and Dad . . . ."

Let's Read!

One of my all-time favorite things to do with the boys is to grab them each a HUGE pile of books, throw the blanket over them, pop some popcorn, and plop down next to them to enjoy a good hour of quality reading.  As you can see, this time I grabbed my camera instead of my latest home birth read.  :D  Isn't this just pure bliss?!








{Bugga's growling face and clobbering hands}








{More popcorn please!}

Birds and Bees

Well, I can honestly say that I didn't expect to be having this type of discussion with my three-year-old for a while yet.  But this morning when I hopped out of the shower, Bugga was there to examine my naked and bulging body.  He pointed at my belly button and asked,

"Did Karsten climb in here?"

"Um, no."

"Well how did he get in you?"

"He arrived from down here (pointing you-know-where)."

"And he climbed up in there?"

"Well no, honey.  Daddy put his sperm in there and his sperm met Mommy's egg and together they made Karsten."

"And did I watch?!"

*Cough* *Cough* *Giggle*

"No, buddy.  You were fast asleep."

And that was it.  I love how kids are so curious and yet so easily satisfied at this age.  And I love that frank, respectful, honest, and open discussion paves a sure path to more of the same as these little guys grow older.  Hopefully they'll never be embarrassed to talk to their mom and dad about sacred topics of this nature.

Dear Chief,

You are my hero.  Thanks for being out right now, on this cold and gloomy night, doing my grocery shopping and running my errands instead of sitting warm and cozy at home.  And what's more to the point, thanks for happily and sincerely volunteering to do this for me!  Oh, and thanks for my new headlights, too.  And the transition pieces in the hallway, the light bulbs above my desk, the cleaned out rain gutters, the mended living room shutters, the new ceiling fans in the boys' room and living room, the tax preparations you did this weekend, the back and shoulder massage to ease my one gnarly spot, the bowl of soup you heated up for me today, your presence at my ultrasound this afternoon, and perhaps best of all, thank you for reading books with the boys tonight.  I love that.  It melts me.  I am the luckiest, luckiest woman alive!  You are my fabulous knight in shining armor.  This weekend and today you have spoken my love language x 100!  I love you!

Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you!!!!

MWAH!

Smooch, Pucker, Smack, Smack, Smack

Bugga said to me the other day, "Mom, when I grow up, I'm gonna marry you."  And I asked him, "What will we do when we're married?"  He looked up at me with those killer eyes and answered, "*mwah* *mwah* *mwah* *mwah*."  "Oh, we're gonna kiss when we're married?"  "Uh huh."  Then Buddha chimed in with, "And go on dates!"  So Bugga promptly and deftly revised his definition of marriage to ecstatically include, "Yeah!  Lot's of dates!"

Nice to know I'll be going on lots of dates for the rest of my life.  :D

Also the other day . . . .

Bugga sat beside me blowing on my gargantuan belly over and over again.  Finally I asked him what he was doing and he happily replied, "I'm blowing my morning breath on Karsten so he can smell it!"

On loneliness, pregnancy, birthing, baby names, and dinner . . . .

The Chief is gone right now.  For the week.  And I'm left staring at a computer screen because I can't face my kitchen again.  I spent the weekend baking bread and making cookies and cleaning up after myself (applause please).  But somehow in two days all my cleaning has been unraveled and my table and counter tops are now liberally strewn with dirty bowls, plates, and more than a little garbage (why don't I just put it in the trash instead of throwing it on the counter?  I'm SO lazy!).

Pregnancy is going well.  We have found a midwife that we are really excited to work with.  Today I had to endure a visit with a nurse practitioner in order to have an anatomy screening ultrasound ordered and lab work done (stuff my midwife wants).  Wendy, the nurse practitioner, asked me point blank why I had waited so long to come see an OB (I am now almost 24 weeks along) and I told her point blank that I felt my pregnancy was progressing just fine, so what was the point?  I think I baffled her.  We obviously didn't take to one another as she dished out commands and I responded with a multitude of questions regarding the expediency and necessity of each command.  I really didn't want to be there.  At the moment, I just want to be left alone to enjoy my pregnancy and that is what my midwife will be allowing me to do while my OB (or at least his nurse practitioner) wants me to undergo a barrage of unnecessary tests and procedures.  Luckily, I am past the point of amniocentesis, which really seemed to bother Wendy, but for which I inwardly rejoiced.  I don't care if it comes back positive for this or that defect.  I will love my child no matter how he emerges.  Oh, and I also wanted to slap Wendy when I happily announced that we were having another boy and her face fell, "Oh."  "We're excited!  We love boys!" I assured her.  "Really?  You're okay with this then?"  Seriously?  If I wasn't such a nice person, I would have told her to leave the room I was so perturbed by her condolences.  Anyway, I left her and went through the motions of making an appointment to see the actual OB in four weeks.  I'll be canceling that before it comes around, though, because we are going to be starting our maternity care with our midwife this Thursday.  It's so exciting!

The more The Chief and I talk about our home birth, the more excited we become.  It is thrilling to know that there won't be any packing of bags or late-night farming out of kids while we dash through the deserted streets to a sterile hospital room with bright lights, beeping monitors, and tubes and IVs everywhere.  I am looking forward to being able to move my body throughout labor, hop in the shower if I want, eat a meal and drink real water (instead of the dreaded and insufficient ice chips), soak in a birthing tub, go potty without nurse assistance, cuddle with my babe right when he makes his debut, and give my boys the invaluable opportunity of seeing true natural birth in action.  When I first started having strong inclinations toward home birth this time around, I thought The Chief would surely drag his heels throughout the entire process.  In past conversations, he had never been very supportive of this birthing path.  Now, however, he seems to be just as excited as I am.  I just don't think I could be happier right now. (Except if The Chief were here with me tonight, snoring away on the couch while the TV drones on in the background.  I miss him.)

Oh, and did I mention that we are naming our third son Karsten?  We are.  And we still haven't decided on a middle name.  I like Aksel, but I can't get The Chief to commit.  Anyway, Karsten is the Norwegian version of Christian, which means "blessed, anointed one, follower of Christ."  So now we have So-So "God of War, thunder, stern;" Bugs "Manly, Brave, Courageous;" and K-dog (I just made that up; think it'll stick?) "blessed, anointed one, follower of Christ."  The first two have done a heckofa job living up to their names.  :D  Hopefully Karsten will too.

Okay, I have to sign off and go figure out what to make for dinner co-op tomorrow night.  Any ideas?  Oh, and for those who requested my spinach shake recipe, I haven't forgotten about you . . . I'm just neglecting you.  :D  Hang tight.

I'm really loving on these scrumptious images right now.  Totally:







And for more of my late-night, lonely musings, visit my photo blog which I also updated tonight. :D