The "Other" Anniversary

     Soon my husband and I will be celebrating our 11th anniversary.  And I will be sadly remembering that it's now been a year since our potty training efforts with Joshua have been derailed.  Where did I/we go wrong? 
     Joshua is only 3 1/2 so the first thing you might consider is maybe, just maybe, I'm over-reacting and he just needs some time.  Well first of all, is it you changing these poopy diapers?  No, it is not.  And second of all, I just can't get over the fact that one year ago he really was almost potty trained.  Really.  I don't think I'm exaggerating here.  He was well on his way.  I posted about what a perfect mom I was back in July of last year... http://worstbestmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/worst-best-mom-revisited.html.  As you can (or will) clearly see upon reading this post, I was able to potty train a 2 1/2 year old with very little kinks along the way.  Number 1 and #2 were no match for me! 
That is, they were no match for me until we went away to celebrate our 10th Anniversary and when we came back?  Potty training was over, done, caput, forgotten, resisted, out of the question.
    
What did I do wrong?

• We broke the routine by having the audacity to celebrate the anniversary with an extended weekend over-priced vacation close to home.
• I might've yelled once or twice.
• I probably used guilt trips about not being a baby anymore and about me not wanting to change stinky diapers.
• I begged him to use the potty.

What did I do right?

• I felt guilty for making him feel guilty so I gave him space... loads of space... months of space.
• We alternated stickers and no stickers depending on his moods.
• We explained the cost of diapers and how we could be spending our money on other things... like the water bill!  And car payments!  And to offset the rising costs of gasoline!
• We described the environmental impact of continued use of disposable diapers!
• We did scientific experiments investigating the gel-like properties of diaper insides (one of our experiments might have involved me letting him wear a regular non-swimmy diaper into a pool and having him come out 10 pounds heavier 30 minutes later).
• We taught him how to stand up (what fun!) and pee outside (yippee!).
• We demonstrated (and I was asked many times about how I pee without having a penis).

     As you can plainly see, it is both completely my fault and not also not at all my fault that Joshua has regressed and refuses to be potty trained.  This is not to say he has not made any progress.  A friend told me I should potty train while in Disney World.  Let me tell you, there is no place I would rather be than in a Magic Kingdom Potty (that's me being sarcastic).  I tried to potty train before Disney and I was able to pull off #1 potty training with an agreement to hold off on #2 until we all had the mental strength to carry on.  Months past and still no progress with the #2.  I tried to do more to push it all along, to add fiber to our potty training quest if I must put out a metaphor (is that too symbolic?).  We tried a sticker chart which would earn the family Mini-Golf!  We tried having him make funny faces while on the potty.  We tried giving him a book to read while on the potty.  We tried choking and crossing our eyes whenever he pooped in his Pull-Up (okay, that last one was more of a gag reflex, not a specific parenting strategy).  I even tried this when I was feeling very patient one day: "Hey Joshua, do you need to go poopy?  Do you want to go in your Pull-Up or in the potty?"  And I smiled sweetly when he replied, "Pull-Up" and crawled under the table to complete his masterpiece.  And when I was feeling particularly impatient one day I tried this: "Liam? Do any of your friends use Pull-Ups or diapers?  No?  I didn't think so.  Big boys use the potty!" Oh, I almost forgot about the lazy morning when I didn't feel like doing anything at all so instead of putting him in a Pull-Up after he went #1 in the morning, I just pulled up his pajama pants and sent him back to watch cartoons with nothing on at all.  That didn't end well at all.
     Perhaps this would have been easier on all of us if we hadn't been so close in the first place.  I just can't help but feel that I've been here before a year ago today and that really isn't anything at all to celebrate in today's progress-driven society.  And yet if incentives don't work, intrinsic motivation has yet to kick in, guilt seems to be a lost cause and the battle lines of potty training have been drawn in cement... where do we go next?  Do I buy the next box of Pull-Ups and try not to tell myself that it will be our last box?  Do I put him in underwear that will just be thrown out the next time he crawls under the table?  Do I take him to a potty training guru (my sister-in-law) or should I just let the cards fall where they may? 
     Well, to begin with I suppose I should celebrate something that does deserve celebrating... our 11th anniversary.  For at least one night, I'll get out of changing diapers.  But I can't help thinking that on our 12th anniversary I better not have to leave any diaper cream and wipes with our babysitter!

Camping Without a Paddle

     Whenever we go anywhere, I always make a list first.  It ranges from the mundane like: Underwear & socks to the specific like: Old brown towel.  This year just before our big friends camping trip, I skipped the list.  Thankfully we were camping close to home.

     True, we had everything you actually would need for a camping trip.  We had our tent, our canopy, portable Weber grill, camp chairs, my laptop, picnic basket full of dishes and silverware, a stroller, the camping stove and even our hammock.  Liam, Josh and I left while Bill was still at work. We arrived on a Wednesday, dropped our stuff off and then went to the grocery store to meet up with Bill.  But before we left, I sent him a few texts with things I had already noticed that we had forgotten:

Tarps!                                                                                                                           
Sent July 18^th, 4:26 PM

Black garbage can and a water jug (on “bag” shelf [that’s the shelf we keep the used plastic grocery bags on] in kitchen)                                                                                    
Sent July 18^th, 4:32 PM

And a newspaper for making fire                                                                           
Sent July 18^th, 5:04 PM

       We found Bill waiting at the grocery store with his truck full of camping gear including a tarp, a garbage can, the water jug and (1) newspaper.  My friend had a typed list of groceries which she checked off as she went.  We, on the other hand, did what we normally do which is to wander aimlessly up and down each aisle until something caught our eye.  This time, I also occasionally looked into my friend’s cart and then backtracked to buy the same thing.  We left the store with most of what would have been on a shopping list, although we did forget sugar and toilet paper.

     Back at the sight, we ate our first official camping dinner: Subway.  Then Bill had to head back home so he could go to work the next day.  We were sad to see him go (mostly me because I’m afraid of rabid animals in the middle of the night and because I apparently do not have the “magic touch” when it comes to turning on a camping stove and also I have forgotten how to make a decent campfire). But Bill’s leaving turned out to be a blessing in disguise because we knew he would be back the next evening.

Boys are behaving.  List for tomorrow: more pillows, Josh’s chipmunk, toilet paper, Liam’s bike, video cam?, waffles, maple syrup (small), my toothbrush!  More d and aa batteries, letterboxing* book (in a clear bag on top of baby boxes to the left of the tv)                      
Sent July 18^th, 9:58 PM

And the new potato corer with the green handle.                                            
Sent July 19^th, 7:02 AM

And paddles! LOL                                                                                                      
Sent July 19^th, 9:10 AM

     I have a question to ask.  What is the good of a new canoe, life jackets and even a wet proof box if you don’t have any paddles to paddle your canoe!  See?  This is why it was such a good thing that Bill was coming back the next day and also why you should never feel stupid when you make a packing list which includes such obvious additions as "canoe & paddles". 

Hey we are fine. Went on a hike. Going swimming.  I didn’t get wood. Can you pick some up on your way in?                                                                                                               
Sent July 19^th, 2:39 PM

Tomatoes from garden!                                                                                           
Sent July 19^th, 4:47 PM

     So apparently woodsy rodents like tomatoes.  I never knew this until we returned to our campsite after going swimming, just before dinner.  When we got back Liam said, “Why is there a dog in our campsite?” and then by the time I looked the animal was gone.  It left half of an heirloom tomato though, which begs the question, ‘what dog eats a tomato?’  Or perhaps more likely, ‘what woodsy animal looks like a dog and is the same size as a dog who also appreciates a fine variety of tomatoes?’ **

     Bill came back Thursday night only to leave us again. This time we had wood but I wasn’t too sure of my fire making skills (despite years of camp experiences making log cabin or tee pee fires).  We went on another hike although we didn’t try canoeing on our own (even though we had the paddles).  Of course, it wasn’t long before I thought of some more items for Bill to add to his list…

Small bag for josh, tomatoes, tiki torches? And the butter in the blue Tupperware on the top shelf of fridge.  And all of your stuff!  Probably more beer for you.                        
Sent July 20^th, 8:01 AM

     This was my last text before Bill came to camp for good.  I was happy that he also remembered to bring a new latch for our cooler, more ice, another cucumber from the garden, Rum Swizzle for me (yum) and some extra diapers for Joshua.  Camping is terrific, especially when you know there’s someone at home you can depend on.  Someone who knows which toothbrush is yours and what type of drinks you might enjoy while camping.  I think camping close to home might be the right idea afterall… especially considering that we might not be able to fit everything from our site into our two cars on the way home so taking third trip home & back with one of the cars isn’t entirely out of the question.

*Letterboxing- for more info check out www.letterboxing.org
**Liam's full report about the tomato-eating-"dog" was that the "dog" had a tail and was yellow.  Since I've never heard of a dog who eats tomatoes, I am assuming it's another animal.  We went to the campsite's nature center on the way home (yes, we did actually fit everything into two cars... well, a car and a truck). At the nature center there were hides of a variety of animals so by process of elimination, I'm thinking our tomato-eating-"dog" was probably a fox!

The Invisible Stitch

     Joshua's has anew stuffed animal.  It is a giraffe and it's a dog toy.  We had to get Joshua this giraffe because he is extremely head strong... and he has a very big head.  See, when we were picking up his Daddy's Father's Day gift at a local plaza, we passed the window of a pricey toy store (the kind of toy store that doesn't print coupons).  Well in that window was a very big stuffed giraffe made by the Melissa and Doug company.  I can afford their puzzles, and probably even a puppet, but I think the $150 price tag (just an estimate) is a bit too much to spend just now.  Except that Joshua fell in love with the giraffe and insisted that he was going to get a big stuffed giraffe.  Finally I talked him down off of the ledge and convinced him that he should look for a small stuffed giraffe... and that we could probably find one next time we went to Target.  Weeks passed and Joshua wouldn't give up on getting his new small stuffed giraffe.  "When will we get my new stuffed giraffe?" He kept asking.  "Will we get my new giraffe at Target tomorrow?"
     We found ourselves at the store after being asked each day for nearly a month.  Almost immediately I found a stuffed giraffe... in the pet section.  Each foot made its own silly noise.  I made the mistake of pointing it out to Joshua before taking him to look for more giraffes.  His face lit up, he grabbed it out of my hand and hugged it to him, refusing to let go.  This is when I weakly suggested that we look for other giraffes in Target... but Joshua wouldn't have it.  He claimed it as his own.  Within 5 minutes, he even took off the tag to claim it as his own (before Mommy and Daddy paid for it).
     We took the giraffe home- well, first he went to Home Depot, then he swung on the swing in the backyard and finally he was taken into the house.  The giraffe fit right into the family, under Joshua's arm.  It helped us to hear where Joshua was too, because of all the squeaking and the rattling.  It didn't take long though to learn the irony of buying a stuffed giraffe from the pet section of the store.  This stuffed giraffe was very poorly constructed. Its back and one of its hooves were already coming uns-titched.  Who would think that a dog toy wouldn't be able to keep up with a three year old boy for a day?
     I know how to sew by hand...kind of.  Unfortunately I was pretty sure if I tried to sew up Joshua's new BFF by hand, it would look more like a Frankenstein-Giraffe.  I didn't think he'd appreciate that.  So I asked Joshua's crafty child care provider for some advice.  Now this is a lady who sews just about everything. Once I gave her fabric and she sewed me a purse (which I gave to my mom).  She is currently sewing a quilted lap top cover.  When I asked her advice about the giraffe, she offered to fix it for me right on the spot.  But I had a teeny bit of pride and said I wanted to try to fix it myself (something I'd never have time to do if this unfortunate event had happened in, say, February).  But it was summer, and I really wanted to prove I could do it.  She suggested an invisible stitch.  I had never heard of an invisible stitch.  She offered again to get it fixed right there on the spot (A pun! Get it?).  I said I wanted to try it, but how do you do an invisible stitch?  She said she learned when she was 10 (which made me feel awesome) and she described it to me.  I nodded attentively but I wasn't sure there was much hope.
     I have learned how to sew many times. My mom taught me, my friend taught me and I took home economics at least once.  As I mentioned, the only thing I retained was how to hand stitch... and my hand stitch looks more like Frankenstein's stitched forehead.  I turned to You Tube so I could visualize a stitch that was invisible.  I found a few helpful videos (see one below, about sewing a stuffed animal):

Sewing Soft Toys Closed Using a Ladder Stitch

      Now I was ready to fix Joshua's stuffed giraffe... except he wouldn't part with it at nap time or bed time so I had to wait until he was awake.
     It's awfully hard to sew a giraffe while it's owner is trying to grab it out of your hands to give it a hug.  But I managed... I even learned from the videos that tying knots in the end of your string is not a good method and that the knots often come out of the fabric.  So I tried cross-stitching instead.  In the end, I even reinforced some of the stitching that looked like it might come loose in the near future (because Joshua carries it around by its neck).  Now you can't even tell the little guy had any work done.
     Okay, so it was a cheapo giraffe doggy toy, but Joshua loves it and I'm awfully proud of myself for learning about the invisible stitch... again.  Only this time, maybe I'll remember how to do it for a good long time.

  

It's Just Goodnight, and Not Goodbye

     I didn't cry when Liam started Kindergarten, but I truly did think I would cry when we dropped him off at summer camp (I didn't cry; apparently I only cry during cheesy movies like The Time Traveler's Wife). Liam got to go to the same summer camp that I used to go to, and that Bill went to so many years ago.  This camp was a special place long before I knew who archery instructor with glasses was B-)  Long before we were counselors, we were campers on opposite sides of the flag pole trying to shout camp songs to see if the Boys or the Girls were louder.  I don't exactly know if Bill felt the same way, but the smell of camp, walking from my cabin past the playground and to the rec field, I specifically remember thinking that I was only truly happy here at camp. That's because at camp, we left everything behind and started fresh.  Bill described it to me best: "On Sunday everyone felt a little lonely, a little nervous but by Wednesday's talent show you were having the time of your life... and by the time Thursday night came, you couldn't imagine going back to the real world. On Friday night, when the parents came you wanted nothing more than to just stay a bit longer with your new friends; your new family."
     I don't have many pictures of myself at Camp but I know how happy I was there.  I don't remember everyone I bunked with, ate with, danced with, ran with, swam/sung/swung with or made fly off of the teeter-totter.  But I do remember that there were many many friends that made the place so special.  I remember the campfires, the full sky of stars above, the song of taps calling us all to our bunks.  I remember feeling completely safe, protected and happy at camp... utterly at peace.  

   















     But I digress.  When we pulled into camp 17 years later with our son, eyes wide with anticipation in the backseat, Bill and I shared a special moment of happiness and pride.  We were coming back to our roots.  For a moment Bill was that archery instructor again (even as he complained that they had replaced Advanced Archery with a Bee Bee Gun course) and I was that perky teenager teaching little kids how to cook banana boats in aluminum foil on a small campfire (recipe: throw a peeled banana with marshmallows and chocolate chips into a square of aluminum foil; wrap it up and cook it up).  We dropped Liam off in his cabin and, even though it was a boy's cabin, I looked up at the exposed rafters and the ultra-twin mattresses and it brought me back, way back. 
     We walked to the flagpole and I remembered standing across the way from Bill, when we were a bit older.  I remembered shouting even louder because now I had someone to compete with on the other side.  I remembered sitting at the picnic tables surrounding the flag pole (even though they have all been moved to the new dining hall), drinking our cartons of milk and laughing with our new friends.  The playground was the same- I'm surprised the teeter totters are still there, and at the same time reaffirmed that at least someplace in this world it's still okay to shoot someone up 3 feet in the air and have them come crashing down to Earth on the woodchips.  The impossibly tall swing sets that I remember trying to flip over.  The rec hall was still there, made of that corrugated plastic roofing material that is sooo loud in a rainstorm.  All in all, camp remained the same.
     Was Liam's camp experience for me/us or for him?  Well, we picked him up only a couple of days later (camp is shorter for the younger guys) and he was brimming with excitement.  He told us about all of the swimming, and the swinging and the singing as if we didn't already know.  Just before we left, we took a bathroom break.  This might not sound significant, but hear me out.  When we got to the bathrooms, Bill and each took a right, into the "old" bathrooms. You know, the types of bathrooms with concrete floors and plywood doors.  And Liam took a left into the "new" bathrooms.  So while Bill and I remembered the lines for the showers and spitting our toothpaste into those same old sinks, Liam opted for the new.  Okay, I admit my example is a little sketchy, maybe a stretch for you to buy into... but to me it's symbolic.  Sending Liam to camp might have been more for Bill and I than it was for Liam, I do admit that.  Hey, maybe it was even an excuse for Bill and I to drive through those red gates 17 years later.  But ultimately, it was an act of love sending Liam there to this place that really hasn't changed so much after all of those years.  A place where he will grow to be independent and a place where each summer- for a week- he will be truly happy.

17+ Years Later

Liam and his cousin at campfire.