Potty Time!

Breaking News: This morning 17 month old Desmond went pee while sitting on the toilet.

He ran in to the bathroom and was telling me with his baby language/nonverbal communication that he wanted to get up on that potty! Last week he wanted up there and he sat on the little seat just smiling and enjoying his thrown for a few minutes, then he hopped off. That is what I was expecting today so I started doing things in the laundry room but then some movement caught my eye and I squealed. He was peeing!
While sitting on the toilet!
He was peeing all over the floor while sitting on the toilet!

I don't have a little pee catcher on my potty seat. See, I had a girl last time and those things are not necessary for the fairer sex. :) So he peed this big arc all over the floor and his legs. But the intent was there and I was overjoyed. And the cutest thing was how proud he was.

checking out the pee on the floor

feeling pretty jazzed about his new trick

So if anyone out there has tips for helping an early potty training interested kiddo, I'm all ears! 

I'd love to keep thing going. 

Thoughts on Marriage

Last week Aubrey was picking out her clothes for a Valentines Day party we were going to and she had decided to include a veil from the dress up basket. She was telling me what she wanted to wear to the party and she couldn't remember the word veil so she was describing to me what a veil is.

And I quote: "You know the things you wore when you married daddy. When you got married because you didn't have anyone to care for."

 . . . .When I didn't have anyone to care for. So, in her sweet little mind I got married to Shaun because I wanted some to care for and I suppose because in return I wanted to be cared for. This might be because she equates love with caring for someone because that is one of the main ways she is loved (since she is a small child that requires lots of care). :)

Regardless of how she got the idea I think it is a pretty sweet way of describing marriage.

And just for fun here are some pictures from my wedding five and a half years ago now!

Free

I was joking with a friend the other day.

I told her that I wasn't trying as hard with the second one. I told her it didn't matter as much to me how he turned out.

It was a joke, but it got me thinking.

I devote most of my energy to my kids. I save some for my husband, 'cause he is pretty cute. I get out by myself, enjoy my own interests and time with friends, but the majority of my energy is devoted to teaching, shaping, loving, feeding, cleaning up after, and caring for my kids.

I have two now and I find that life with two is easier than life with one.  A lot of things contribute to this. I have more experience, a better support network, I'm older, more mature, better looking (j/k, though I do keep hearing that the long hair is much preferred to the short). All those things are true but they aren't the real reason things are easier. The real reason is that I care less then I did before.

I cared so much when Aubrey was little. I didn't want to mess her up! I wanted to give her this perfect foundation. I wanted to prepare her and protect her and . . . is the whiff of obsession gagging you yet? I meant well, oh so well, but I was slowly killing myself. I was depriving myself of all the fun things that give life its flavor and excitement. And I was ruining what mattered most to me. Being a Mom became almost too oppressive to enjoy.

Desmond saved me from all that. I couldn't keep up that standard with two. I had to let some things go, I had to care less and it set me free. If we have a bad moment, conversation, tuck in, or heck a whole day I move on, do better next time. It's life. This is what makes life interesting, what makes us unique.

If you are starting to get scared here, let me reassure you that my children are still cared for. They do run around wild and naked from time to time but I believe childhood is the best, most appropriate, time to do such things. They are not neglected. They are loved, cared for, taught, and corrected, but they aren't my whole world.

I am me again. A better, wiser, mom-a-fied version. The me I always wanted to be.

Capable

I took the kids to Las Vegas for a few days.
By myself.
We flew in a plane.
They both had colds.

Des, oddly, woke us at 5:30 in the morning that day. He cried and screamed when I had to hold him, my lap child, during taxi and take off. The first day he had only a twenty minute nap in the car to sustain him through air travel and a trip to the circus. That night both kids woke up about five times each, and I was sharing a room with them.

Parts of the trip really sucked but we kept going and it got better.

Yes, Desmond hollered, protested and wailed for maybe half the flight, but we survived and no other passengers harmed us; though I'm sure they thought about it. Still, despite the auspicious beginning I had a great time. We got to visit one of my dear friends, who is referred to as Auntie Nina around here, and my kids were able to play and get to know with her twin girls. And that was a dream come true.

I am capable. We can do this. We can have adventures. We can bend the rules, cry and scream, and recover.

This might not seem like a revelation to any of you reading this, but it is a big one for me. I tend to be conservative about our adventures. I don't like the kids getting "over" tired. I don't like feeling strained. I don't enjoy losing my patience (the kids don't enjoy me when I lose my patience). On the flip side I don't want to live the same day over and over. I want to experience new places and see loved ones who live far away. I want my children to learn flexibility and how to find their rhythm in new places. I miss living out of a suitcase and living with only today in mind. It was great to get a taste of that again.

It started with Vegas but this is just the beginning.

The kids playing at the airport.

Fruits of my Labor

In June my mother-in-law came out from Florida for a visit. Seeing as I had an extra pair of hands I jumped at the chance to go pick out some plants for the "front yard."

(I put this in parentheses because we live in a condo complex so our front yard is actually the community land that I reclaimed for our growing purpose. I pray and hope that everyone enjoys ours plants and flower more than they enjoyed the dry, weedy, dirt patch that was previously there!

So to the nursery we went! We got soybeans and rubharb, a mini orange tree and a tomato plant, two watermelons and one honeydew. all of which my generous mother-in-law purchased for us. Yay for Moms!

The orange tree flourishes. (It is a bit hard to see with the zinnias growing in front of it. it is a dwarf tree after all. It the one with the new growth, the brighter green leaves and branches .)

The soy bean met a early demise when I pulled it thinking it was dead when it fact it was just ready to be harvested.

The rhubarb was destroyed from below, which I discovered when the whole thing wilted like an old salad!

The tomato is either going to take over the world or to solve world hunger (if we can just figure out the shipping costs).

The watermelons were very slow to produce but finally we got one lopsided melon that will be opened when sister bear gets home from school!

And the Melon, the inspirations for this post, produced three melons. The first one we harvested too early, being first time growers and not having any idea what we are actually doing! The second one I just tucked into this morning. I devoured the whole thing in less then 10 minutes. Thankfully I am the only family member who likes honeydew so i am allowed to do that. The third little melon was pulled out before it had a chance to grow (we are currently making room for our fall planting adventures).

So all in all. I'm hooked.

Five months later. Despite the wait, water usage, time and energy, money for dirt and plants, I'd say I am satisfied with our first attempt at growing our own food.

I guess you could say it was one delicious melon and it has me wanting more

May fall bring more gardening adventures, hopefully ending in something edible!

A hobby

I never thought I would find myself in this place.

Alone at 7:53 in the morning.

Desmond has ate and come and gone twice already.

Aubrey is currently experiencing a miracle. It appears

to me that she is going to hit the 8:00 mark for sleeping in.

I cannot despite trying very hard think of another day

since she was a wee baby that she has succeeding in

blessing and freaking her Mom out more.

How can she still be sleeping? Crazy.

So it looks like I need a hobby. After being basically stuck

in bed and then the house for over a week I am in need of an

outlet.

I'm just not sure what to pick.

I could finally learn to sew and stop "neglecting the

gift that is within me" like the quote on my sewing

machine warns me against. I've always loved the idea

of making clothes for my kids. Problem is all the girl

loves are pajamas. Maybe some loving crafted little tops and

dresses could convince her to actually enjoy getting dressed.

There is a photography class next month that seems interesting.

It might allow me to capture beautiful pictures of this quickly

passing season, instead of poorly lit oddly angled shots I take now.

Knitting was on my list of things to learn. Problem is

every time I start I pick up the needles to practice

I end up with weird scarves that bulge in and out and

not adorable little baby sweater. Odd how that works.

The point of the hobby was to get my creativity flowing and

give me a sense of self that wasn't wrapped up on

being a Mom.

But . . . as I look back on my list here every hobby

involves my kids. Baby steps I guess.

Well it is 8:09 and Aubrey has joined me, time to go snuggle.

Tagged

So I guess this is what it takes to get me to blog.

i tried really hard to get a *cute* picture. I took about twenty plus with different head angles and everything. I thought about posting of few of the really terrible ones but I knee jerk deleted them. lol Guess I am use to destroying bad pictures on sight.

I suppose a real blog entry might be needed as well.

It has been oh like two months. Yikes. I think Rachel is the only one who has suffered any during this long delay which is one reason I am thinking about getting rid of this blog. It just hangs out in cyber space being neglected. I'm not sure I need another thing wanting my attention right now. We'll see though. Maybe I am up for the challenge now that there is some more room. Wich brings me to my newest ephiphany: letting go can be good.

So the biggest thing going on in my life right now is me learning to let go.

Which will probably be a super fun life long challenge for me!

I have been playing the martyr and milking it for all its worth. I am pretty talented at this. I do it much much less now but I use to have it pretty perfected.

It starts with setting up a situation that is so intense and draining that you can illicit pity from it.

For me that would be 24-7 mothering.

Then you talk about how hard it is and how tired, drained, depleted, and under stimulated you are. That gives a great opening for the pity to come rolling it.

The pity feels good. "Woe is me, doing so much!"

This is where th monkey wrench comes flying in like the mokeys from The Wizard of Oz, coming to ruin all my plans. Your loving wonderful sweet caring husband offers to let you out of the house, again and again. He wants to share the burden, to help. You refuse. You brush it off.

Doesn't he know they can't survive with out you. They NEED you. You are essential. You are

the glue. The OXYGEN. Does he want to sufficate?

*Ummm . . . this is when you must stop and reliave that you have in fact become insane.*

You must give in and go out. They survive. They have fun!!! *gasp The baby doesn't cry for hours, in fact she isn't even a baby anymore, she is a toddler!

And it hurts like HELL. It feels like you are being torn apart on the inside. They can survive with out you. You are not bread and water, you are not essential to survival. Turns out you are the icing on the cake. You are loved and wanted but not necessary. They can do it without you.

And that rocks your world . . . .

Or at least it rocked mine.

Turns out I needed a little rocking.

I needed to separate a little. It was good, healthy, NECESSARY.

Shaun and Bree actually like each other. Enjoy being together. She is his daughter. heis her Dad. This is important, this is just as huge as mother and daughter. It needed room to grow, develop, evolve.

Now I have room to breath. I have my own identity separate from baby girl. It hurt at first but now it feels good. It makes sense. It is healthy. It is doable. I see now why I would, could, even want to have another baby. There is room here in this family, once I let go. Once I let her grow and love other people.

It was so freakin hard but it feels so good.

That said I am tagging Rachel and Kendall!

Let us see those pictures!