Potty Training 101

Isn't this a favorite topic of all parents of young children? Who doesn't like to talk pee, poop, and potty? Oh, that's right! Anyone who's attempting to potty train a stubborn, strong-willed child.

That was me six months ago. We had an August 30 deadline looming. My stubborn spawn was starting preschool on August 30. No diapers allowed. We tried to take away her diapers over the long 4th of July weekend. My husband and I were in it together. The kid was not going to wear diapers. She merrily hung out in the house and in the yard, sometimes in undies and sometimes without anything on her lower half. She merrily peed in the house and in the yard, sometimes in undies and sometimes without anything on her lower half. She merrily got the pee towel and cleaned it up. She just didn't care. Didn't want a sticker on the sticker chart, didn't want our praise, didn't want an M&M. We gave up mid-way through Day 3, when she pooped for the first time all weekend, in a hidden place on the basement floor. Done. My stubborn spawn was back in diapers.

Most of life really can be expressed in memes.

Our next attempt was to be in mid-August, after returning from a two week vacation. We decided that a 15 hour road trip would be best done with our daughter in diapers. We returned from vacation to several crises with our extended family. LEG spent some time away from us, for long days and occasional overnights, while I spent time coping with things with family. LEG kept her beloved diapers during this time. It didn't seem fair to outsource potty training to my in-laws and close friends.

August 26, preschool orientation, arrived. Much to her duress, I put LEG's happy little butt in underpants for orientation. I even took her on errands afterwards. We hit the gas station, grocery store and Hallmark. It was her dad's birthday, and she wanted to buy him a blue balloon. She waited patiently, in dry undies, while they filled the helium balloon. We went through the drive through car wash. All that water, and her undies stayed dry. Three and a half hours after leaving the house, we returned home. Within seconds of stepping inside, LEG's undies and our hardwood floor were soaked.

August 30, first day of preschool, arrived. Much to her duress, I put LEG's happy little butt in underpants for the morning, I picked her up from school three hours later, in wet undies.

August 31 arrived. I mentioned yesterday that I joined Team Anchovy on August 31. It was a milestone for my daughter too, because that was the day she found herself deep in the throes of potty training. I'd only packed one diaper in the bag I left at my parents' house while I took my dad to the optometrist. By then, I was done changing pee soaked diapers (I made LEG do that herself), and was only changing poopy ones. Because really, who doesn't love changing a diaper filled with toddler-sized poop? Fun times. I asked my mom to do the same, which she did. LEG had soiled the diaper she was wearing, and my mom had changed her. There wasn't another diaper packed, just two pairs of undies.

After having lunch with delicious anchovies, I attempted to put LEG down for a nap at my parents' house. I wanted to hang out for a while with my parents and meet with the Hospice social worker who was visiting that afternoon. LEG would not nap. She danced, sang, read, and played in the guest room. She came out of the room twice and was sent back in. After meeting with the hospice social worker and talking with my parents, I decided to pack up my tired little girl and head home. She'd pooped in her diaper. Of course. For over a year, she hadn't been sleeping in a poopy diaper.

AGAIN

Much to her duress, I put LEG's happy little butt in underpants and went home. Fortunately, she fell asleep in the car, so I had a few minutes to rid the house of accessible diapers. Within minutes, all diapers were hidden in the attic.

I will win the potty training battle.
I will not succumb to my three year old's pleas for diapers.
Victory shall be mine.
meme credit

I spent the next three days doing laundry. That's what was most memorable about the next three days. My friends and family, having spawn of their own, didn't seem to mind me toting a floor potty, sticker chart, treats, old towels, floor cleaner, and multiple changes of LEG's clothes around with LEG. LEG didn't seem to mind cleaning pee off floors. I thought long and hard about the flooring every place LEG and I went. Old towels and a spray bottle of white vinegar and water go a long way. One friend even had a stash of  M&Ms she shared with LEG and her own fully potty trained child. Esprit de corps.

My daughter responded surprisingly well to delayed gratification. I wish I'd taken a picture of the sticker chart I made, because it was, IMO pretty clever. LEG earned a sticker and an M&M for every successful potty event. (I loved watching her savor the first M&M she earned. "This M&M is soooo good!" She was in heaven.) I think there were about 30 spaces on the chart, set up kind of like a Candyland board game. There were incremental rewards along the way, Annie's bunny snacks about every 5-7 spaces, a trip to Rita's Italian Ice on about the 20th space, and a bubble gun (highly coveted toy) at the end. I put a picture of each incremental reward on the chart, and the bubble gun sat atop the fridge in plain view. Potty training was done in less than a week. Just like that. My daughter was quite pleased with herself. She told everyone about the treats and other rewards, and showed off her Elsa and Anna underwear. (If she's still showing off her undies at church when she's 13, I'll need some parenting advice.)

meme credit

Since every child is the same, I encourage you to follow my method if you have a stubborn toddler who doesn't want to use the toilet. I'm an expert. And if you believe any of this paragraph, you're gullible. 

Tell me your potty training stories. Entertain me. Or vent. This too shall pass.

I Like Anchovies

People are team anchovy or not. There's not much middle ground. No one kind of likes anchovies. You either like them or you don't. Anchovy paste doesn't count. A good Caesar salad dressing contains a respectable amount of anchovy paste.

I joined team anchovy on August 31. I took my dad to an optometrist appointment while my mom kept my daughter. My dad couldn't see very well. I read (shouted, he also couldn't hear very well) the forms to him and filled them out. As he held a pen, I put it on the papers he had to sign. Despite not being able to see or hear very well, my dad recognized friends' voices in the waiting room and chatted with three folks he hadn't caught up with in a while. Living in a small community is nice sometimes. I like when errands and appointments turn into social outings. After his exam, we went to the adjoining vision center, where he was fitted for glasses with a whole host of corrective and accommodating features. Bifocals, anti-glare, prisms, you name it. Modern medicine is amazing. Being the social creature (I just can't call him a butterfly) that my dad was, he chatted with the woman who helped him. He loved that she was local (probably in her early 20s) and talked long enough to determine that he knew her great uncle twice removed. Or something like that.

Back to team anchovy. We stopped on the way home to pick up a few things, including my dad's favorite non-alcoholic beer and some anchovies. Dad waited in the car while I picked up the essentials from the gourmet grocery, beer, and wine store. Gourmet is a term I use loosely and generously. Small town, y'know.

When we got back to my parents' house, my mom had made pizza for lunch. My mom and daughter had already started eating, but it wasn't too late for mom to toss some anchovies on dad's pizza and finish baking it. After years of shunning anchovies, I decided to try a small piece of dad's pizza. Maybe it was sleep deprivation. Maybe my judgement was altered by the non-alcoholic beer. Maybe my taste buds have changed. Maybe my whole body has changed. I liked it. It was tasty. I had another piece. I put anchovies on some anchovy-less pizza and put it under the broiler to crisp it up. Since then, I've bought anchovies. I've ordered anchovies on a quarter of the pizza I've ordered for my family's dinner. I've eaten them on saltines.

I haven't forgotten what it's like to be on team anti-anchovy. My daughter won't let me forget. She calls them stinky fish. Four year olds are so eloquent. I respectfully put my leftovers in a separate container, and heat up the rest of the family's leftovers before I put my pizza with anchovies in the oven or cast iron skillet. But I am 100% team anchovy now.

Except my dad. And now me.
meme credit

How about you? Team anchovy or not?

Fasting, Feasting, Binging, Purging

Social media is a big messy cess pool of political posts, rants, and diatribes these days. People are getting bent out of shape over differing opinions. Unfriending each other on Facebook. Purging their friends lists and abandoning online relationships with family members. Unfollowing each other on Instagram. The Twitter presidency our country has just started experiencing is unlike anything we've ever lived through, and emotions are high.

Me? I'm currently binging on social media. I'm watching the drama unfold. I can't even say I'm feasting on it, because that implies it's ok to do, something I'd do in the company of friends and family. Nope. I'm binging. Sneaking scrolls through my Facebook news feed while my daughter is taking a nap, checking Twitter while folding laundry, staring at Instagram between bites of breakfast. I'm enjoying reading some of the differing opinions and learning a bit from some of my friends' posts.  I do enjoy fact based debate, and when credible sources are cited, I find that interesting. Reading some of the comments has been solid gold entertainment though. I love to watch a good drama unfold now and then. One of my favorite memes illustrates why I sometimes find social media so entertaining: 

Credit to the random interweb people who make memes

I'm sure I'll go on another social media fast sometime. I do it now and then, and it's refreshing. I think nine days was the longest I've stepped away recently. (Read all about it here, it's a gripping tale. Really. ) I always seem to come back though. I can't stay away from the puppy dogs and rainbows. 

How about you? How's your social media social life going? Are you fasting, feasting, binging, or purging? Maybe our country's political climate has left your online presence unchanged. Hats off to you if so.

More Signs

Time for an encore to my wildly popular You Need a Sign? post, which has been viewed a record setting 36 views so far.

This sign is in the parking lot down the street from my house. That's one way to get rid of unruly children. Wonder if Child Protective Services is the unnamed sponsor of this sign?

So long, rug rats! Unwanted and unsponsored.

Or you could do this. Leave your ordinary children here, pick up bedazzled children an hour later.

My kind of people. Craft projects.

There's really no limit to what business owners will do with children running amock. I snapped this pic at the place where I get my hair cut. It's not in the nicest part of town.

Making a list of places to leave my kid when I've had enough.

It took several of my facebook friends a few hours and a few brain cells to figure out what this sign was supposed to say before the clever vandals took a YMCA spin on it.

Roy Rogers sells more than just Trigger burgers.

My husband and I really did need a sign this time. We came home from work to find this friendly love letter from the Water & Sewer department hanging on our doorknob.

Ten days to water our lawn, run the dishwasher, do laundry, and wash our cars.

Seen any silly or ridiculous signs in your travels lately? Have you ever gotten a utility hang tag on your front door?

The Internet is Full of Weirdos

The internet is full of weirdos. Tell you something you don't already know, right?

Check out this weirdo from the local freecycle email list. Wants baby furniture for Halloween decorations. For really disturbing Halloween decorations. Sure hope I don't go trick-or-treating in their neighborhood.

What kind of Halloween decoration are they planning?
And to have started planning this disturbing scene in February? Ewww.

Then there are the weirdos who get paid by other weirdos to follow you around the internet. I received this email after visiting a baking supply website, but not purchasing. I know, this was probably a robot following me around the internet, but still. It's just creepy to get an email with a picture of the item you were looking at, didn't purchase, and didn't even put in your online shopping cart.

You're welcome for stopping by.
Hope you enjoyed my visit.
I didn't even notice you there, creepy internet robot.

Tell me your creepy internet weirdo stories. Mine aren't all that good.

You Need a Sign?

Signs are everywhere. Imagine if we did everything signs told us to to do. "Try our new bacon double cheeseburger today!" Yum. There are lots of funny signs out there.

I had my annual mammogram last week. This sign was in the room where I got changed into the gown.

Believe me, you'd know if I wasn't.

I volunteered a local race on Sunday. This sign was in the women's restroom.

Is this really necessary? Ewww.

Then there's this sign on one of my local cycling routes. If not for the sign, I'd do a lot of cycling in the river.

Thanks for the warning.

I snapped this pic at a local place that sells topsoil, sand, pebbles, gravel, and rocks. (We were shopping for rocks for a landscaping project.)

Don't disturb the security guard. So if you're robbing us, please be quiet about it.

What seemingly unnecessary or ridiculous signs have you seen recently? Surely you have some good stories to share.

Frozen Heart Race Recap

**9 March 2015, edited to add:**  Oops, thought I already published this. That explains why no one has viewed it. :-)

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My main contribution to last year's Frozen Heart 50K came from my kitchen. Well, and on the interwebs, designing and buying custom CBRC Frozen Heart M&Ms. Thank you, Amazon local deals. I also spent about two hours at the mid-way aid station, giving high-fives and food to the runners, and eating aid station food. Sharing is caring, right?

Delicious fresh or frozen, With or without a frozen heart.

I had to order a 2 lb bag to get custom M&Ms, so was under the mistaken impression I'd freeze the rest of the M&Ms to bake cookies for the February 2015 Frozen Heart race. Yeah, right. Those M&Ms were gone by April.

Didn't last long in my freezer.

This year, I decided to run the race. I'm not real into trail racing, as I prefer to run / walk / hike trails (less prone to tripping over tree roots that way), but my trail running friends assured me trail racing isn't really racing. So I signed up for one loop of the Frozen Heart 50K, and was ready to do 10.5 miles of trails on race day.

I merrily did the 10.5 mile course a week before race day. The ground was frozen solid with just a few icy patches. Frozen = no mud. Pretty good trail conditions.

Then this happened.

Crappy picture of lots of snow.

What to do, what to do? I knew I'd be near the back of the race pack, so the 8"-10" of snow would be nicely tamped down into a single track trail by the time I came through, but where's the fun in that? I decided to bring my snowshoes on race morning for a little something different, and recruited two random, but enthusiastic, strangers from the race's Facebook page to join me. I was pleasantly surprised to see a friend in the parking lot with borrowed snowshoes, so had company for the whole loop.

10.5 miles on showshoes? Sure. No problem.

10.5 miles in snowshoes was ambitious. I think the farthest I'd previously snowshoed was about 4 miles. The much anticipated tamped down single track trail wasn't all that tamped down due to powdery snow, and proved to be a bit narrow for snowshoes. As my legs got tired, I found myself kicking the insides of my ankles when I tried to go faster. Still great fun, though, and I'd do it again, given the opportunity. When I saw two of my friends walking about three miles from the end, I took off the 'shoes and had a nice snowy stroll to the finish with them. 

Bottom of my snow-caked showshoe at the mid-course aid station.
We were full of zest and zeal at that point, and posed for photo in some sort of lunge / squat / dip pose.

Same as last year, the aid stations at Frozen Heart were well stocked. Baked goods, candy, hot soup, hot and cold drinks, you name it... The race director and volunteer bakers and soup chefs outdid themselves. As expected, the volunteers were also wonderfully enthusiastic, especially given the frigid temperatures, even chillier when standing still. This year's race premium was an insulated travel mug, I'd take a picture, but then you'd see the water spots because I lazily put it in the dishwasher instead of hand washing it, Overall, Frozen Heart was a good experience. I definitely recommend this race if you're in the mood for a well supported winter trail run.