A post with pictures...finally

Little guys gotta dunk too

He finally figured out how to take his helmet off.  We were having to put a straw through the face mask for him to drink.

Because who doesn't want to take their pants off and jump on the sofa in boots?

The belly on this kid.

For all you Star Wars fans, he looks just like the guy in Return of the Jedi who cried when the Rancor died.  He walked around like this for a good thirty minutes before taking the pillowcase off his head.

Jack looks like Brian so much in this picture.

Cameron trying to smile for the camera

Can I take your order?

This is what the inside of my dryer looks like.  Cameron pops his head in there and says, "Need chicken nugget happy meal, diet coke and fries."  Of course.  Gotta love these kiddos.

Potty Training - Deuces Wild

Okay this will be my last potty training post for a while...maybe.  Pooping on the potty has been a struggle.  My kids had the stomach virus so we went back to pull ups because I have never been more humbled in my life as when Cameron had his first diarrhea attack in underwear in jeans.  First of all, I would like to apologize to my mother for all the crap (literally) I gave her during those cloth diaper years.  I can only imagine what kind of a toll that takes on a person when you have no other option.  I gagged repeatedly and the stench of shit lingered longer on my hands than crawfish.  I kid you not, I cut my nails after that one.  Secondly, my hats off to those going green to save the earth and pennies and putting your kids in cloth diapers by choice.  You are stronger women than I.  Oh and I should probably apologize to your future grandchildren because my two kids and I did a number on the future environment with the poopy diapers we put out there over the past two weeks.  (Note to self: must buy Christmas presents for the sanitation workers this year.)

Oh yes so pooping on the potty not too successful, but maybe the potty is too small or TV commercials have a greater influence over my child than first suspected.  Brian decided to finish bathing Cameron while I took over drying all of Jack's little rolls.  All I hear is, "Wait, Cameron!  No! No! No! Oh boy.  Sarah, Can you come hear so I can clean this?  Wait, you probably want to bring your phone so you can take a picture and send it to your brother."  (Okay, so it's a sick and twisted sense of humor I have.  Judge away.)  So I snapped a photo of the poop in the tub and Brian cleaned away.  "At least it's solid" is all Brian could say.  I was impressed that he pooped a. not in his pants and b. in the bathroom.  Baby steps, people.  Baby steps.  Little did I know that photo would come back to haunt me.

A few days later the occupational therapist (there to help Cameron with his sensory and eating issues) stops by.  Cameron grabs my phone, scrolls through the pictures, holds up the phone to the OT and says, "Cameron poop!"  Shit.  

One day, baby, you'll have kids of your own and these stories will be funnier at that time.

 

Potty Training for Idiots (me) Part 2 - Backwards by Design

I never thought much about HOW I put Cameron on the potty.  Only when.  I had given up my potty training efforts since I went back to teaching full-time for a bit.  My mom took over and of course became the miracle worker.  She said Cameron pee peed on the potty.  (Side note: how does "pee peed" not come up with a spell check underline.  Is that really accurate spelling?)  So about 30 minutes after she left I dragged Cameron in the room.  It went something like this:  I said, "Let's go potty."  My little speedster took off.  I cornered him (clearly, I wasn't outrunning him), picked him up and fought the wiggling over the the bathroom.  After prying ten little fingers one by one off of the door frame, I sat him down on his Elmo potty chair.  He lost his mind, threw himself on the floor and cried for ten minutes.  Looked like me when I have a urinary tract infection. 

So I tried to call Meme out and that was a mistake.  She says, "Cameron, let's go get a cookie."  Sneaky.  He walks willingly into the bathroom and she puts him on the big potty facing BACKWARDS!!!  What in the world?  Have I gone 30 years of my life peeing on the potty in the WRONG DIRECTION!  So the kid pees in the potty, flushes, says "bye pee pee" and goes on his merry way.  My mouth is still in shock at the whole backwards thing.  I start trying the Meme way and things continue going great.  

Does positioning matter?  Boy does it!  I couldn't figure out why in the world I would put this kid backwards on the potty, and then I turned him around to face me (the I guess normal way).  So he peed and his pants and underwear are wet.  Must have had an earlier accident.  A little while later, I put him on the potty, he pees and his pants and underwear are wet.  What is going on?  Who urinates this much?  And then I figured it out.  When Cameron goes to the potty, he has to take off everything except his shirt...pants, underwear, socks and shoes (that makes for a ton of fun when out in public).  When I put him on the potty, his pants and other clothes were under his feet.  As he peed, he managed to aim his pee pee in the slight gap in between the seat and the toilet bowl.  Pee was dripping onto his legs and on his clothes.  Flipping the kid around gives him a little more space.

Brian then shows Cameron how to pee standing up.  Pretty awesome until I go in there with him.  First of all, is he supposed to straddle the toilet?  Secondly, why does he still need to take all his clothes off?  I was in Hobby Lobby holding, a purse, a diaper bag, shoes, socks, pants and underwear while trying to dangle a kid over the toilet because I didn't want his bare feet pulling a Britney Spears.  Thank God Jack wasn't with us.  Third, girls need to be reminded to put the seat up for the boys.  Awkward moment was when his pee pee was drifting onto my seat (forgot to put it up again).  Okay now what?  Tell him to push "it" that way?  What does that mean?  It creeps me out to hold it for him.  Really?  Isn't that borderline jail time?  He already grabs himself 20 out of 24 hours in the day so all I need is another reason for him to grab a hold.  Where's Brian?  Seems like a dad job.

Potty Training for Idiots (me)

The books lie to you.  The books tell you it will be so easy.  The internet has blogs that tell you how to potty train your child in a day or a weekend.  Other parents tell you their child managed to pull down his own pants, take a crap and wipe his own ass the first attempt at potty training.  They are liars.  They are sick and twisted liars who are there to make the rest of the world feel like failures. 

Here's the truth.  Well it's merely the truth on my situation.

I don't have a penis.  There I said it.  Therefore I didn't really understand all the quirks of how to train a child with one.  Books keep telling you to look for signs your child is ready.  

• Can go through naptime dry.  Well I guess he could, but if I let him take a longer nap, then he pees in his diaper.  I have two kids.  I'll take the pee in the diaper and the longer nap, please.  
• Doesn't like to be wet.  He doesn't really care if his diaper is wet, but splash some water on his sleeve and the whole shirt has to be changed.  Does that count?
• Can verbalize his needs.  I can verbalize that I need to go jogging, but that doesn't always get things done now does it?
• Is coordinated enough to run or walk steadily.  Maybe I should have started the training before he could take off running from the potty.
• Urinates a fair amount at one time.  Who is wringing out their kid's diaper to measure how much pee is in there at one time.  Also, it might be a while before I can get to that wet diaper.  You want to get changed quick?  Poop.
• Can pull his pants up and down.  Pants, no, but he can take his socks and shoes off, which oddly enough have to happen every time he goes to the bathroom even in public restrooms.  Go ahead and say it...gross!
• Has predictable bowel movements.  Really?  Is everyone out there having predictable bowel movements? 

Let me just say that I was not ready for potty training.  It's so easy to put that diapered child in the car and drive as long as I need.  Hell, look at that astronaut stalker lady.  She diapered herself up for a cross country trip.  It's convenient.  Yes the idea of not buying diapers is intriguing to me, but not elusive.  There's still the little one who is keeping Pampers in business.

Nevertheless, I first attempted the "weekend" method.  "Put the kid in a shirt and underwear and give him as much liquids as his little bladder desires," says the website authority figure.  Now I have a child that cannot seem to stop playing with himself.  "Do you have to go potty?"  Him: "No."  Me: "Then quit grabbing it! Geez."  I was supposed to set a timer in this method and take him about every ten minutes or so.  That just seemed excessive to me.  Five pee puddles and one hour later, I realize that little boys mean little bladders.  The odd part is that you're not supposed to fuss at the kid merely hoist him on the potty and tell him to finish.  By the third hour off wringing out underwear in the sink, who's not getting a little frustrated.  My wood floors are getting pissed on and my area rug kind of smells like Bourbon Street.  "Give it time," the website says, "by day 2 my kids were ready and willing to go potty."  

Day 2 - Starts with a bath and a batch of laundry after his bladder apparently exploded during the night.  The website says well it helps to use a doll to simulate accidents and what is supposed to happen.  Okay, Sheriff Woody.  Let's give this a go.  So here I am playing cars with Cameron on the floor then I pour some water on the floor like Woody had peed.  Cameron laughs.  I have reached a new low.  Who in the hell came up with this and why am I buying into this?  The rest of the day went much like the first except now came the resistance.  Screaming and spreading both arms and feet out to catch the door frame to keep from entering the place where all excrement goes to die.  My wits, my patience and my cleaning solution were out.  Here you go, son.  A pull up.  You win.  

Stay tuned for part 2... 

Christmas DayI

The face of a child just out of bed, outside and with no pants on (or shoes or socks).  Love this kiddo!

And this is why we were outside!!!

Staring at the toys, but really just looking for food.

He got an LSU football uniform complete with shoulder pads.

Playing the piano with cousin Cy at Mee Mee's.

I swear he owns pants.  He just didn't have any on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day I guess.

When all else fails, put on Toy Story

Christmas was more of a thrill for Brian and I than for the kids.  We couldn't wait for Cameron to see his jeep and for Jack to get his workshop.  Jack walked around saw a few things then picked up a candy cane and called it a day.  Kind of what we expected for his age.  Cameron got a jeep and the coolest helmet I could find.  The night before Brian and I questioned our parenting skills.  Me: "We're giving a two-year old a jeep so that he can drive his younger brother around?"  Him: "We bought them both helmets, right? Should be fine."  They still will not sit in the jeep at the same time.  I think Jack has seen Cameron's driving abilities and would rather not take the chance.  At one point Cameron had it in reverse and was looking forward laughing hysterically. 

We spent the day with Brian's side of the family.  Holidays make me even more anxious than I already am because I just anticipate Cameron popping a peanut in his mouth or trying to eat a peanut butter cookie.  I don't want to be "that allergy mom," but I guess I have to be until he is old enough to ask.  Of course Jack is great at finding every outlet in your house.  He also loves to unplug whatever is in plugged in and then stick the plug in his mouth.  The game is to catch him before he tries to plug the cord back in and electrocute himself.  Life with kids is interesting.

Christmas Eve

I love this picture.  Just Jack lounging around waiting to put his pants on.

This just about sums up Cameron's attitude about the evening.

It's the best picture I could get.

And toys make it all better.  You can't see it in this picture, but he is wearing his flashlight headband to shoot hoops.

Mommy and Jack

Jack was ready for bed watching Toy Story 2 and Cameron just needed to hug it out.

Story time with Daddy

Christmas Eve...a true test of my patience.  Brian was in bed sick so I took it upon myself to bring the boys to church with the rest of my family.  My first mistake of the evening.  We arrived early to get a seat, but my behind never touched the cushion on the chair thanks to those two little ones.  I was in the presence of the Lord, but never in the house of the Lord.  Does that still count?  There were several "twice-a-years" standing in the entrance of the door so if it counted for them, counts for me, right?  Cameron ran up and down the sidewalk for an hour and a half, and I had to carry 30 pounds of Jack some of the time.  I must have hit three miles by the end of mass.  In boots.  Second mistake.  It was by no means cold outside, and Cameron and I worked up a sweat.  Deodorant?  Maybe?  Third mistake.

At my mom's they were able to run wild with the cousins, and it was the basketball goal that could not be assembled fast enough.  Jack occupied himself by trying to destroy ornaments and the cousins' presents.  No sense in having them touch his.  Smart boy.  

Let's just face it though...it's not a holiday unless someone ends up naked and crying on the toilet.  So I mentioned the half a tub of play doh Cameron ate.  Well play doh hardens and let's just say that makes for a task when it comes to pooping.  An enema later, and I have a child that can sleep but is scarred for life.  We'll just pack the Play-Doh away.

Christmas Cookies

Cameron tried to eat the dough.  Surprised?  I was more surprised by the fact that he prefers eating play doh.

A proud moment. 

Jack's turn to eat the cookie dough.  The bag said it made 3 dozen.  We made 14 cookies.

I didn't let him eat the dough so I gave him the rolling pin to chew on instead.

Cameron licking the dough.  My apologies if you actually ate any of our cookies as they had already been sampled.  Consider it taste testing.

Making Christmas cookies was interesting.  Both kids participated even if it was just by patting, licking and eating the dough.  It was an attempt.  Neither one ate a ton of dough, which surprised me because both of them will sit down with a tub of Play Doh and just chow down.  We've had to stop playing Play Doh because of that very reason.  When asked how much is too much Play Doh to consume the doctor's response was, "Well most kids take one bite and that's it because it tastes awful."  "How 'bout a half a tub, doc?  That too much?"  Geez.  What a pain in the ass that was.  No really.  Come back to my Christmas day post.  

Anyway, Cameron sat there with me for about 20 minutes, which is a huge accomplishment considering his attention span.  He took a good sized chunk of dough then went "cook" with it in his play kitchen.  ***Note for the future:  Keep track of all dough you lend out.  Two days later Jack is playing in the play kitchen and just going to town chewing on something.  You guessed it.  There's the cookie dough from two days ago sitting in the oven waiting to be cooked.

A little help, please

Christmas at Mumsie's house

Christmas at Mumsie's house and Jack with Tequilla (the dog)

I need another set of hands, eyes or both.  During the day I am outnumbered, and they are winning.  I don't often cook, and when I do it taste like crap.  Well I decided to give it a go since my New Year's Resolution is to attempt to cook.  (I use the term "cook" very loosely since it involved me opening a can of peas and warming a box of potatoes in the microwave.  That counts as far as I'm concerned.)  

As the four o'clock hour neared, I scanned the house.  Oreos, fruit loops and powder doughnuts (hey, I didn't say a damn thing about nutrition) are crumbled and mashed in my rugs.  Every DVD we own has been licked and frisbee'd across the room.  Buzz, Woody and Lightning McQueen are trapped underneath the rubble of the Jack-a-nado that left the bodies of Little People scattered about, some of them still trapped in cars.  Then there are the children.  Cameron has nothing on except his underwear and his boots.  Jack has more oreos on his face than in his stomach.  Brian arrives in one hour.  Hmmm...I better get started on the food.  I made no such cleaning resolution.

I find the pots, wipe the dust off, and throw a piece of meat in there.  So far so good.  Then the deafening sound of my red and green polka dot chip and dip servewear shattering into a million pieces overshadows the sizzle of the ground chuck in the pot.  After gently relocating Jack into the living room, I vacuum up the pieces.  Was the thing supposed to disintegrate after the New Year?  There were so many pieces.  

In walks the oldest whose speech is not always understood.  "Mama, it pop."  Huh?  One glance.  Oh hell.  He is holding an opened tube of toothpaste that he managed to take the cap off and squirt the contents all over himself.  Walking into the living room, his brother is also painted blue with toothpaste as well as my red area rug.  I remembered to turn the stove off before taking my blue man group into the tub.