I decided this morning that instant gratification is ruining our society. We're obviously aware of the impact of technology...and yes, it's nice. It's nice to be able to look up anything instantly, call people at any time (no need to have a pay phone or quarter), or watch a show or movie whenever you want. No need to wait until Saturday morning for your favorite cartoon--just pull it up on Netflix or the DVR. We see pictures instantly on Facebook, mere moments after friends' babies are born. We download music moments after the album releases, order items from our couch and have them arrive the next day, and email or text people to get our message across instantly. Sorry, snail mail. Heck, even the prevalence of premarital sex (and at ever-younger ages) plays into this as well. So while all these things are convenient, they're doing nothing to teach us patience.
Recently I've been getting very frustrated with the emergence of Christmas in October. I hate seeing Christmas displays across the way from Halloween candy, and the way we just skip over Thanksgiving completely makes me crazy. Part of me thinks we should adopt Canada's thanksgiving, just because it times out better for the early introduction of Christmas. We lose a vacation day, but heck, make Black Friday a holiday then. I'm a purist, and I hate to hear Christmas music before Thanksgiving night. Back in the day we didn't hear Christmas music at all until then, and the all-day music didn't happen until Christmas Eve! Now it starts in mid-November (if not sooner), all day every day, right through. Even Black Friday has been stretched earlier, with sales well ahead of the actual day coupled with crazy hype all the way there. And if that wasn't enough, we stretch the madness out to Cyber Monday now, as well. I've been shaking my head all week at the Christmas lights popping up all over, and the last month of mall shopping has been downright sickening. I'm not ready for it yet, and it bugs me that we're rushing the season so early. It never used to be this bad, and I feel like it's cheapening the season.
Part of what makes anything in life special is that there's some anticipation leading up to it. Think about it--Christmas was special as a kid because we had this one special time of year where everything was focused on the holiday. Advent calendars, countdown chains, and all of the traditional preparations made the season so exciting, and it was all crammed into one very special month. Finishing school is a big deal because you've had a certain period of time to anticipate the ending. Weddings and babies both have "waiting periods" for a reason--time to prepare and get excited. Back in my dating days, one of my best first kisses came after weeks of nothing but great conversation and very deliberate restraint. I just don't think any of these experiences would be as exciting without that build-up.
On the other hand, if the time gets stretched out too long, it becomes old hat, just part of regular life. If we had to go through the same gestation period as an elephant (22 months), we'd probably get a little bored with the concept and the excitement would probably trail off until right before the end. Likewise, if we keep stretching out Christmas preparations way in advance, that special period that makes the season so great will just be part of life this time of year. Instead of knowing you need to fit in certain activities during this special month, procrastination will reign as people think they have months to do it. It just doesn't make it as urgent, so chances are, it might not get done.
Maybe I'm just a stick-in-the-mud purist and I need to get with the times. Maybe I should just jump right in and appreciate the bonus time we have to enjoy the season. But I still can't get past the importance of Thanksgiving, and the reminder to be thankful (particularly when heading into a season of greed and materialism) is that much more important.
As Thanksgiving approaches this year, I'm a little bummed that we're not quite where I was hoping we would be by now--pregnant with #2 and in a much better financial situation than we were before. Craig's job situation has changed, and it's probably a bit better than it was last year, though for non-financial reasons. Baby #2 just isn't happening right now, and it's disappointing. However, we have much to be thankful for, and at this point I'm in no position to complain. But again, per my theory above, if it would have happened right away, I just don't think it would have the same impact as it will when we've been waiting and anticipating it for this long. I've maintained all along that it'll happen in God's perfect timing, so while I have all of my earthly plans and schedules, I know that whatever His timing is is better than what I could imagine. It's not easy to wait, but I know it'll be worth it. And if it never happens? Well, hopefully I'll have the grace to accept that, too, and appreciate all we have been given.
You'd never know it by our society, but there's nothing wrong with slowing down a bit. Everything happens in its own time. We don't need to get ahead of ourselves just to make things happen faster. It cheapens the experience and doesn't teach the importance of the process of preparation. And God knows that whether it's our baby or His baby that we're preparing for, that time is precious.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Tuesday Randoms
The craziness has begun. Thanksgiving is a couple days away and it's going to be full-speed ahead from now until the end of the year. I have a ridiculous amount of work to do in the next week, and then I'm off work for four days to head to Portland for five days and meet my adorable new nephew, Max. I can't wait to spend time with my niece Kate (and of course my brother and sister-in-law, as well), but of course I'm facing long travel and plenty of mommy guilt for leaving behind my sweet boy for that long. Once I get back, I'll be diving head-first into Christmas planning, events, and shopping. It's crazy to even think about. Before we know it, Christmas will be here, I'll have an amazing week off work, and then it'll be the new year and we'll be back to the beginning of another year. It's mind-boggling.
I've been dreadfully sick for a while now, which probably isn't helping. The cough I've had for a month turned into a brutal assault on my sinuses over the weekend. Terrible congestion that left me totally incapacitated Sunday night motivated me to go to the doctor on Monday, but unfortunately she couldn't do anything for me. I probably just have an upper respiratory infection, which she wouldn't prescribe antibiotics for, and because I'm in the midst of the whole trying to get pregnant thing, it's risky to take any sort of drugs. So, I just have to suffer through it. She also said that it could just be my allergies being out of control. Doubtful, in my opinion, though I'm sure they can contribute a bit. I've been off allergy meds for a while, though, without much problem, but I guess cold season takes it to a different level. I dunno...I'm tired of hearing her blame every single problem I have when I'm there on allergies, including my loss of smell and taste. I'm ready to get a new doctor, even if just to get a second opinion. It'd be nice to get someone who's willing to think a bit more creatively and listen to my concerns without sounding a little old-school-judgmental, like I'm someone who's spent a little too much time on the internet or something. I've still had my moments the past couple days, but nothing as bad as Sunday night. I've even had moments of relative comfort--not clear breathing, but not severe pain, either.
Jacob had been pretty awesome lately--which, of course, now that I've blogged about it, it will come to an end--but he's still having moments that make me crazy. He's just been sort of fun and sweet and awesome lately. Lots of hugs and kisses and cuddling, funny little observations, and silly little moments. However, when he's bad, he's awful. He's been super whiny lately about everything, demanding everything in an instant. He has a major tantrum, complete with hitting and kicking, when he doesn't get his way. That's just being three, I think, and I'm doing my best to maintain composure, raise my voice only when necessary, and try to be simply firm and consistent. It's a fine line between disciplining him and finding ways to comfort him when he knows he screwed up, but lately it's been manageable. And really, that's all I'm asking for. Maybe he's easier, maybe my attitude is better, or maybe those good little moments have been good enough to remind me what an awesome kid I have a lot of the time. It helps.
He's also been eating better--which I credit to rewards of Halloween candy--and going down to bed well--which I credit to a good routine. Nothing's better than seeing your kid instinctively walk to bed after you finish the last book. Sweet. And the better behavior in general may be thanks to the Santa threat that we can exploit this time of year. We don't use it a lot, but hey, one of the songs he's learning for the daycare Christmas program is "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"...you know, "he knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake." Lucky us.
Speaking of which, tonight we sat down to practice his songs, the other of which is "Up on the Housetop", which I don't know that well. But you know what, Jacob does. The kid knows almost the entire song--all five verses. I can't seem to learn it, so I'm extra impressed at how good he is. Amazing how young minds soak this stuff up.
Tomorrow is his Thanksgiving feast at daycare. I didn't go last year because I didn't really think it was worth taking off work. But this year I had this image of him sitting there all alone when everyone else's parents were there, and I didn't like it. I feel like some of his tantrums are just an attempt to get attention, so keeping that in mind I've been trying to do what I can to be there for him. This seemed like a good idea, and I have a little vacation to burn. I have way too much work to do, but this is important, too. Should be interesting, considering how he acted the last time we hung out with him at a daycare event.
washload, and good for teaching a little bit of responsibility. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, I'm hopeful for a good but busy weekend. Time to figure Jacob out, transition into Christmas mode, and just be thankful for all we have. Here we go...
I've been dreadfully sick for a while now, which probably isn't helping. The cough I've had for a month turned into a brutal assault on my sinuses over the weekend. Terrible congestion that left me totally incapacitated Sunday night motivated me to go to the doctor on Monday, but unfortunately she couldn't do anything for me. I probably just have an upper respiratory infection, which she wouldn't prescribe antibiotics for, and because I'm in the midst of the whole trying to get pregnant thing, it's risky to take any sort of drugs. So, I just have to suffer through it. She also said that it could just be my allergies being out of control. Doubtful, in my opinion, though I'm sure they can contribute a bit. I've been off allergy meds for a while, though, without much problem, but I guess cold season takes it to a different level. I dunno...I'm tired of hearing her blame every single problem I have when I'm there on allergies, including my loss of smell and taste. I'm ready to get a new doctor, even if just to get a second opinion. It'd be nice to get someone who's willing to think a bit more creatively and listen to my concerns without sounding a little old-school-judgmental, like I'm someone who's spent a little too much time on the internet or something. I've still had my moments the past couple days, but nothing as bad as Sunday night. I've even had moments of relative comfort--not clear breathing, but not severe pain, either.
Jacob had been pretty awesome lately--which, of course, now that I've blogged about it, it will come to an end--but he's still having moments that make me crazy. He's just been sort of fun and sweet and awesome lately. Lots of hugs and kisses and cuddling, funny little observations, and silly little moments. However, when he's bad, he's awful. He's been super whiny lately about everything, demanding everything in an instant. He has a major tantrum, complete with hitting and kicking, when he doesn't get his way. That's just being three, I think, and I'm doing my best to maintain composure, raise my voice only when necessary, and try to be simply firm and consistent. It's a fine line between disciplining him and finding ways to comfort him when he knows he screwed up, but lately it's been manageable. And really, that's all I'm asking for. Maybe he's easier, maybe my attitude is better, or maybe those good little moments have been good enough to remind me what an awesome kid I have a lot of the time. It helps.
He's also been eating better--which I credit to rewards of Halloween candy--and going down to bed well--which I credit to a good routine. Nothing's better than seeing your kid instinctively walk to bed after you finish the last book. Sweet. And the better behavior in general may be thanks to the Santa threat that we can exploit this time of year. We don't use it a lot, but hey, one of the songs he's learning for the daycare Christmas program is "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"...you know, "he knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake." Lucky us.
Speaking of which, tonight we sat down to practice his songs, the other of which is "Up on the Housetop", which I don't know that well. But you know what, Jacob does. The kid knows almost the entire song--all five verses. I can't seem to learn it, so I'm extra impressed at how good he is. Amazing how young minds soak this stuff up.
Tomorrow is his Thanksgiving feast at daycare. I didn't go last year because I didn't really think it was worth taking off work. But this year I had this image of him sitting there all alone when everyone else's parents were there, and I didn't like it. I feel like some of his tantrums are just an attempt to get attention, so keeping that in mind I've been trying to do what I can to be there for him. This seemed like a good idea, and I have a little vacation to burn. I have way too much work to do, but this is important, too. Should be interesting, considering how he acted the last time we hung out with him at a daycare event.
washload, and good for teaching a little bit of responsibility. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, I'm hopeful for a good but busy weekend. Time to figure Jacob out, transition into Christmas mode, and just be thankful for all we have. Here we go...
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Cell Phone Pics
As promised, here are the pictures I snapped of the photos stuck on my old cell phone. Enjoy this blast from the past...
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| Five days old...hard to believe. |
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| So sweet. These two pictures were taken in the overnight room at the hospital a couple days before he came home. |
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| This one was taken at the mall the day after his christening...which may have been Labor Day, if that's possible for it to be on Sept. 1st. He was sleeping so sweetly. |
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| This was taken Christmas Eve, possibly at bedtime. He was laying on the bed in our room at Craig's parents' house, apparently very happy. |
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| This was apparently on our living room floor. Not sure why I used my cell for this one, rather than my real camera, but it's so cute! |
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| Hard to see his face in this one, but he's in his car seat. The winter hat and stuffed moose are perfect accompaniments. |
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| Jacob's first experience with a balloon, at Fairport Canal Days. |
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| He just kept holding it, which was so stinkin' cute. |
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| Sleepy boy, probably in his car seat. |
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| Drinking our frozen strawberry lemonade...yum! |
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| Still drinking... |
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| Attempt at a good pic of both of us after the lemonade. Not too successful. |
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| I think this was at the doctor's office. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so out the cell phone came as one more distraction technique. |
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| At the Red Wings game, taken the same night as I snapped the picture we eventually used for his 3rd birthday invitation. I think I'd had so much success with the real camera that I thought it was a prime opportunity to update my wallpaper. |
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Little Moments
Yesterday I had to get a new cell phone. I wasn't expecting to, but I did. See, I'm still living in the dark ages and my cell phone is a Tracfone. It's a prepaid thing, and considering I don't use my cell phone a lot, it makes sense to keep it. I don't feel like spending $30-50 per month for a cell phone, even if I could use it more, because I don't need to. And while in theory we could just ditch our home phone, I'm hesitant to do that...probably mostly because of 911 and the million things we'd have to change and the knowledge that I don't want to have to buy Jacob a cell phone the moment friends start wanting to call him. So, after looking around at some plans online, I just decided to stick with my Tracfone. I still had a ton of minutes left from when they screwed up and bonused me the last time I had to get a new phone, when their systems upgraded and my old phone no longer worked. That one I got for free. It took them ages to get it back up and running, though, so somewhere along the way I got a ridiculous influx of minutes. Sweet. Years later I'm still working through them, but when I had to buy a few more to tack on more time, they told me my phone could no longer be used. Ugh. I had been thinking about getting a new one anyway, one with a QWERTY keyboard so when I did text or try to hop on Facebook (I could sort of access it from my old phone, but it was terrible), it might be a little easier. So, I had been eyeing a couple up and once I got word that mine was useless, I ran out to the store to get a new one and get the painful transition period over with ASAP.
I got the best one within my price range, and so far it's cool. I haven't tried Facebook yet, mostly because I'm still waiting for my 2,100 minutes to come back to my phone. I'm giving them the two business days they said it might take, but you can bet I'll be calling them again tomorrow night. Oh, and while the phone works, it's listing the wrong phone number within the phone. Weird. And yes, I called it, and it's someone else's number. Oy. But at least it's working.
The point of this boring little story? Well, as I was going through and changing over my contacts, I realized that a bunch of pictures of Jacob were still trapped on my old phone. And there's no way to get them off. While most of them are nothing special, they're still pictures of my baby...when he was a baby. Most of them aren't fantastic memories or anything, but just little stolen moments when we were waiting around or he looked super cute and my crappy camera phone was all I had. In most cases I just took the moment to try to get an updated wallpaper for my phone, and periodically I'd get one good enough to change to.
Much to my surprise I found pictures from when he was five days old, still in the hospital. I remember taking those in the overnight room we stayed in. There was one from when he was sleeping in his stroller (Labor Day 2008, I think?), another from when we shared a frozen strawberry lemonade from McDonald's after a haircut, a couple adorable sleeping pictures, his first experience with a balloon, and at least one picture from waiting in the doctor's office. They're all pretty sweet in their own way, though the new baby pictures are the ones I'm kicking myself about the most because I didn't take enough pictures with my regular camera back then. Insignificant moments, perhaps, but all the more significant now that they're trapped there and time is passing us by.
Every time I stumble through old pictures, I marvel at the big boy we have now. For example, I have this one as my wallpaper at work right now, and I catch myself just staring at it. Jacob was just over 16 months in this picture, half a lifetime ago for him.
When he's having an adorable moment, it's easy to let myself think back to my amazing little baby boy. I see his face and the little baby comes rushing back, even if it seems almost impossible that he was ever that small. Did I mention he measured in at 39-1/2 inches at the doctor the other day, which is a full inch more than he did back in August? Looks like Daddy's genes are officially kicking in. He's jumped up to the 75th percentile, which is somewhere he's never been. But let me tell you, his pants are evidence that he shot up. Jeans that I thought would fit all winter are getting short. He's getting to be such a big boy, and those baby pictures blow my mind a bit.
Maybe I'm just extra sappy because I was reading another one of those depressing blogs, this one about a family whose oldest son died of a drug overdose and related assault at 18. Seeing pictures of the kid when he was little just reminded me of how we capture these moments in time, never knowing the significance they could have down the road. What if it turns out these random photos were more of an endangered species than we thought? Every once in a while I take a completely awful picture of Jacob--blurry, blinking, odd face--and the instinct is to delete it because I know I won't use it and don't want to take up memory with it. But there's a little nagging thing in the back of my mind...that if, God forbid, something happened to him, I'd kick myself for every photo I didn't have, even the bad ones. Let's face it, in a situation like that, there would never be enough.
Tonight I took pictures of the pictures on my old phone. Hopefully I can post them one of these days, to give you a peek of these unseen moments. For now, he're's a sneak preview--two pictures I did email off of my phone a while back...
More to come...
I got the best one within my price range, and so far it's cool. I haven't tried Facebook yet, mostly because I'm still waiting for my 2,100 minutes to come back to my phone. I'm giving them the two business days they said it might take, but you can bet I'll be calling them again tomorrow night. Oh, and while the phone works, it's listing the wrong phone number within the phone. Weird. And yes, I called it, and it's someone else's number. Oy. But at least it's working.
The point of this boring little story? Well, as I was going through and changing over my contacts, I realized that a bunch of pictures of Jacob were still trapped on my old phone. And there's no way to get them off. While most of them are nothing special, they're still pictures of my baby...when he was a baby. Most of them aren't fantastic memories or anything, but just little stolen moments when we were waiting around or he looked super cute and my crappy camera phone was all I had. In most cases I just took the moment to try to get an updated wallpaper for my phone, and periodically I'd get one good enough to change to.
Much to my surprise I found pictures from when he was five days old, still in the hospital. I remember taking those in the overnight room we stayed in. There was one from when he was sleeping in his stroller (Labor Day 2008, I think?), another from when we shared a frozen strawberry lemonade from McDonald's after a haircut, a couple adorable sleeping pictures, his first experience with a balloon, and at least one picture from waiting in the doctor's office. They're all pretty sweet in their own way, though the new baby pictures are the ones I'm kicking myself about the most because I didn't take enough pictures with my regular camera back then. Insignificant moments, perhaps, but all the more significant now that they're trapped there and time is passing us by.
Every time I stumble through old pictures, I marvel at the big boy we have now. For example, I have this one as my wallpaper at work right now, and I catch myself just staring at it. Jacob was just over 16 months in this picture, half a lifetime ago for him.
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| For the record, I don't miss raking all of those leaves every fall, but I do mourn the loss of photo ops like this one. I got a couple dandies that day, even though Jacob had sliced open his lip the night before (Halloween). Luckily, you can hardly tell. |
Maybe I'm just extra sappy because I was reading another one of those depressing blogs, this one about a family whose oldest son died of a drug overdose and related assault at 18. Seeing pictures of the kid when he was little just reminded me of how we capture these moments in time, never knowing the significance they could have down the road. What if it turns out these random photos were more of an endangered species than we thought? Every once in a while I take a completely awful picture of Jacob--blurry, blinking, odd face--and the instinct is to delete it because I know I won't use it and don't want to take up memory with it. But there's a little nagging thing in the back of my mind...that if, God forbid, something happened to him, I'd kick myself for every photo I didn't have, even the bad ones. Let's face it, in a situation like that, there would never be enough.
Tonight I took pictures of the pictures on my old phone. Hopefully I can post them one of these days, to give you a peek of these unseen moments. For now, he're's a sneak preview--two pictures I did email off of my phone a while back...
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| Dinner outside at a restaurant near the lake on a warm day in spring 2009 |
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| Jacob's first gelato later that same summer, a baby cone just for him! |
Monday, November 14, 2011
Potty Problems
I mentioned last week that during our trip to the doctor's office I had a lengthy conversation with the doctor, during which Jacob ripped the exam table paper to shreds. We were discussing the topic of potty training. It hasn't been going so well.
There was a time not too long ago that I was convinced we'd be done potty training by the end of summer. Jacob was wearing underwear all day, and most days they stayed dry. But then, little by little, it all broke down. I don't know why, as we didn't have any major life changes or anything else that would be an obvious trigger for regression. He just started being wet more. And then the pooping started.
To be clear, Jacob has been using the potty for over a year. He started sometime in the summer of 2010, and we've just sort of let things progress on their own. I bought some underwear last spring, I believe, and I got a potty sticker chart going as well. We encouraged him to use the potty, but we never did potty boot camp like some people do--leaving their kids naked (i.e., without a "place" to put their pee and poop), or filling them with fluids and setting timers--mostly because Jacob struck me as the sort of kid that would just do it when he was ready and not a moment sooner. We had a potty prize in place--a lacrosse net--and the motivation to wear underwear seemed high. He did pretty well with pull-ups so we moved on to underwear. All along he did a reasonably good job with using the potty, particularly for poop, and moving up to the three-year-old room at daycare seemed like a good motivator to keep up his big boy status. He was never dry in the morning, and naps were a bit of a crap shoot, but I was less concerned about those. I figured that peeing in his sleep was involuntary and probably just indicated that his body wasn't ready yet. But he seemed to do a decent job in the daytime, so we soldiered on there.
For a while, things were good. I seriously got to the point where I wondered if a pack of pull-ups I was buying might be the last pack. Jacob dribbled a bit and had major accidents once in a while, but I figured it was just a matter of time. I thought he'd adjust to the various sensations and the accidents would decrease, even if they didn't go away completely. I guess I couldn't have been more wrong.
I remember gushing a bit to the doctor at Jacob's well visit in August that he was pretty solidly pooping in the potty. We hadn't had a poopy diaper in ages, and we'd never had poopy underwear. And then later that week he promptly pooped in underwear for the first time. I was shocked. And it's been happening a bit ever since, maybe once every couple weeks. And ever since then, with the exception of a couple decent weeks, I think there have been more days where we bring home a bag of wet undies than days that we don't. More often than not, when he'd actually go on the potty, his underwear would be wet--maybe not soaked, but a pretty significant dribbling. That can't be comfortable, but he never bothered telling us unless it was a major accident. It seemed, though, that things were getting progressively wetter all the time.
Of course, all along he's been wearing his plastic pants to contain any mess, and I can't help but wonder if that's somehow contributing. I don't know why it would matter, since wet underwear is still wet whether it's soaked through to other clothing or not. I'm not sure we have enough pants to attempt to go without the plastic pants, either.
The tough thing is that I know he's capable of being (mostly) dry, because he's done it at times. But whether his problem is more physical or mental, I'm not sure. Maybe he really can't hold it. Maybe he can't tell when he has to go, or at least not with enough notice. Maybe he's too busy to care. Maybe wet diapers and now wet-ish underwear have completely desensitized him. I have no idea. And while I tried not to make a big deal of the accidents, it's hard...especially when you know he knows what he should be doing. And still...I need to at least make the point that having an accident isn't our ideal scenario. While he's not in trouble, he still needs to try to make it to the potty.
So, at the end of my rope last week, I asked the doctor her thoughts. And much to my surprise, she gave me the green light to go back to pull-ups for a while. I figured that might be a bad idea since it's almost giving in to his (perceived) laziness, but at this point anything is worth a try. It takes away potty training as ammunition for a power struggle, so if that's what he's been doing, this should help. I do need to get a new potty chart up and running, one that focuses solely on staying dry. We know he can use the potty, so now it's more about making sure he gets there in time.
The frustrating issue here is that I don't know if there's a physical issue that is causing all of this, or if that little smirk on his face when we ask about accidents shows an underlying agenda. It's so hard to not know, even if ultimately it doesn't make a difference because he's just not staying dry anyway and we can't keep doing the status quo
There was a time not too long ago that I was convinced we'd be done potty training by the end of summer. Jacob was wearing underwear all day, and most days they stayed dry. But then, little by little, it all broke down. I don't know why, as we didn't have any major life changes or anything else that would be an obvious trigger for regression. He just started being wet more. And then the pooping started.
To be clear, Jacob has been using the potty for over a year. He started sometime in the summer of 2010, and we've just sort of let things progress on their own. I bought some underwear last spring, I believe, and I got a potty sticker chart going as well. We encouraged him to use the potty, but we never did potty boot camp like some people do--leaving their kids naked (i.e., without a "place" to put their pee and poop), or filling them with fluids and setting timers--mostly because Jacob struck me as the sort of kid that would just do it when he was ready and not a moment sooner. We had a potty prize in place--a lacrosse net--and the motivation to wear underwear seemed high. He did pretty well with pull-ups so we moved on to underwear. All along he did a reasonably good job with using the potty, particularly for poop, and moving up to the three-year-old room at daycare seemed like a good motivator to keep up his big boy status. He was never dry in the morning, and naps were a bit of a crap shoot, but I was less concerned about those. I figured that peeing in his sleep was involuntary and probably just indicated that his body wasn't ready yet. But he seemed to do a decent job in the daytime, so we soldiered on there.
For a while, things were good. I seriously got to the point where I wondered if a pack of pull-ups I was buying might be the last pack. Jacob dribbled a bit and had major accidents once in a while, but I figured it was just a matter of time. I thought he'd adjust to the various sensations and the accidents would decrease, even if they didn't go away completely. I guess I couldn't have been more wrong.
I remember gushing a bit to the doctor at Jacob's well visit in August that he was pretty solidly pooping in the potty. We hadn't had a poopy diaper in ages, and we'd never had poopy underwear. And then later that week he promptly pooped in underwear for the first time. I was shocked. And it's been happening a bit ever since, maybe once every couple weeks. And ever since then, with the exception of a couple decent weeks, I think there have been more days where we bring home a bag of wet undies than days that we don't. More often than not, when he'd actually go on the potty, his underwear would be wet--maybe not soaked, but a pretty significant dribbling. That can't be comfortable, but he never bothered telling us unless it was a major accident. It seemed, though, that things were getting progressively wetter all the time.
Of course, all along he's been wearing his plastic pants to contain any mess, and I can't help but wonder if that's somehow contributing. I don't know why it would matter, since wet underwear is still wet whether it's soaked through to other clothing or not. I'm not sure we have enough pants to attempt to go without the plastic pants, either.
The tough thing is that I know he's capable of being (mostly) dry, because he's done it at times. But whether his problem is more physical or mental, I'm not sure. Maybe he really can't hold it. Maybe he can't tell when he has to go, or at least not with enough notice. Maybe he's too busy to care. Maybe wet diapers and now wet-ish underwear have completely desensitized him. I have no idea. And while I tried not to make a big deal of the accidents, it's hard...especially when you know he knows what he should be doing. And still...I need to at least make the point that having an accident isn't our ideal scenario. While he's not in trouble, he still needs to try to make it to the potty.
So, at the end of my rope last week, I asked the doctor her thoughts. And much to my surprise, she gave me the green light to go back to pull-ups for a while. I figured that might be a bad idea since it's almost giving in to his (perceived) laziness, but at this point anything is worth a try. It takes away potty training as ammunition for a power struggle, so if that's what he's been doing, this should help. I do need to get a new potty chart up and running, one that focuses solely on staying dry. We know he can use the potty, so now it's more about making sure he gets there in time.
The frustrating issue here is that I don't know if there's a physical issue that is causing all of this, or if that little smirk on his face when we ask about accidents shows an underlying agenda. It's so hard to not know, even if ultimately it doesn't make a difference because he's just not staying dry anyway and we can't keep doing the status quo
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Away
This weekend I took off for a weekend away. I took a vacation day Friday and headed out alone to the downstate baby shower of Lois, my good friend from college. Jacob's existence is probably part of the reason I haven't seen her in three years, since her wedding. Between her schedule, my schedule, and a period of time where leaving Jacob and pumping all weekend seemed impossible, it just hadn't worked out. I had to miss her bridal shower because it happened right around the time Jacob was born, and besides that very busy wedding weekend, I hadn't seen her since. And there hadn't been a lot of emailing either, but I was determined to go down there for this shower and make up for lost time.
I decided to make a weekend of it, though Lois had a busy weekend herself so I had to make some other plans. I took the long way down on Friday and stopped through Geneseo (to buy a baby t-shirt for part of the gift) and Corning (to check on some stuff at the glass museum store) to break up the trip. I also had the option to stop in Binghamton to see my oldest friend (since Kindergarten), Heather, but in the end I just wanted to get to my destination as soon as I could since I hate driving in the dark. The drive was very pretty. Most of the leaves were gone, but the sun made the remaining rusty reddish-brown leaves look gorgeous. There were also some snowflakes that didn't stick, but some of the cloud formations that resulted were pretty cool. I got to do some shopping once I was down there, and spent some time at Panera utilizing their free wi-fi until I could head to Lois' house for the night.
It was nice to catch up with her, though it was definitely crazy seeing her pregnant after considering her wedding was the reason for my last visit. We had a lot of catching up to do and there wasn't a lot of time, but it was fun to see her not-so-new-anymore house and hear how pregnancy has been treating her. The shower yesterday morning was lovely (amazing brunch food!) and they got some great gifts. It was fun to see all the baby products again, though it left me wishing even more that my body would get its act together and let us try to get back in the baby business again.
After the shower I headed out toward Binghamton to stay with Heather overnight. We spent the evening working at her husband's orchestra concert (more fun than it sounds! There were cookies!), then got ice cream with her husband and father-in-law. This morning we went to church, which was interesting in more ways than one. First, everyone there was so nice! The congregation is small and Heather is a teacher at the school there. The members are mostly on the older side, and many of them greeted me and were genuinely interested to hear my back story. Second, the church has a new pastor, and he's so young! I'm not sure I've ever been to a church where the pastor was younger than me! Young and fresh is good, though! Third, I had a chance to see a lot of the Binghamton flood damage in person. As you may recall, the Binghamton area got slammed in August by a passing hurricane's rain, and there was widespread flooding. It was pretty crazy to see major businesses--Home Depot, McDonald's--still closed months later, and old Victorian houses with nothing inside them, some offered for sale "as-is". Sad stuff. We actually went to a newly reopened Pizza Hut whose trademark red booths had been replaced with plain old tables and chairs. That was odd! The visit with Heather was a good chance to catch up and reminisce about some of the nearly 30 years that we've known one another (well, 28, but who's counting? ;-) ).
I did the drive back this afternoon and came back to an empty house. Boo. A little while later, Craig walked in with a sleeping Jacob over his shoulder. For the second day in a row, Jacob fell asleep around dinner time. Yesterday he woke up at 10:30pm and stayed awake until 2:30am! Thank goodness I wasn't here, because that would have sucked. I couldn't risk that tonight because we have to be up for an early doctor appointment tomorrow, so I woke up the sleeping monster sometime after 6pm and endured his wrath for a while until he really woke up and realized he missed me. I got a big hug and an "I love you" tonight, so that was pretty awesome.
I missed him a lot while I was gone. A lot of people asked about him--probably because a lot of the folks at Lois' shower knew I had a baby right before the wedding--and the whole baby thing definitely made me think about him in simpler times. I didn't miss the misbehavior, of course, but I missed his sweet smile and his hugs. Coming back to a way off schedule child wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, though. However, I suppose it's the price I pay for some alone time to think, shop, talk uninterrupted, be spontaneous, and pay attention in church.
This whole weekend was a bit of a test run for three weeks from now when I pack my bags to head out to Portland for five days to see my new nephew Max and the rest of my brother's family. I can't wait, but admittedly I'm a bit nervous. It's not often I fly...alone...for five days...away from my child. Jacob was only six months old when my niece Kate was born, and with nursing and general concerns over leaving Jacob, I didn't get a chance to go visit. That meant that I didn't see Kate until she was over eight months old. I made a promise to myself to see this one early on, so this is my chance. I'm excited, but considering the stress of making sure things are set up when I leave (and of not having any control over things when I'm gone), I'm already a little nervous. I'm always nervous about flying, but the fear of flying with a child is even more intense. Yes, it will probably be fine, but it's still scary. I want to make sure the boys are prepared for life alone for a few (more) days, and I also want to ensure that I don't come back to a little boy who's fallen into bad habits. I'm definitely more of a planner than Craig (at least as far as Jacob is concerned), and sometimes I think Craig thinks about what's fun first, and what's better in the long run second. Sometimes it provides a good counterbalance to me, but sometimes (like the wacky napping this weekend, brought on by an ill-timed soccer game and football party) it makes things a little tougher. He might pay the consequences when they're alone, but I don't want to come back to find our good routines are out-of-whack, either. I know they'll have fun while I'm gone, but there's definitely more to it than that.
Alas, I have three weeks to obsess over that. Right now, I'm just grateful for the time to spend with two good friends and a little time alone for myself. It was a great weekend and I'm just happy to be back to the smiling face of my sweet boy.
I decided to make a weekend of it, though Lois had a busy weekend herself so I had to make some other plans. I took the long way down on Friday and stopped through Geneseo (to buy a baby t-shirt for part of the gift) and Corning (to check on some stuff at the glass museum store) to break up the trip. I also had the option to stop in Binghamton to see my oldest friend (since Kindergarten), Heather, but in the end I just wanted to get to my destination as soon as I could since I hate driving in the dark. The drive was very pretty. Most of the leaves were gone, but the sun made the remaining rusty reddish-brown leaves look gorgeous. There were also some snowflakes that didn't stick, but some of the cloud formations that resulted were pretty cool. I got to do some shopping once I was down there, and spent some time at Panera utilizing their free wi-fi until I could head to Lois' house for the night.
It was nice to catch up with her, though it was definitely crazy seeing her pregnant after considering her wedding was the reason for my last visit. We had a lot of catching up to do and there wasn't a lot of time, but it was fun to see her not-so-new-anymore house and hear how pregnancy has been treating her. The shower yesterday morning was lovely (amazing brunch food!) and they got some great gifts. It was fun to see all the baby products again, though it left me wishing even more that my body would get its act together and let us try to get back in the baby business again.
After the shower I headed out toward Binghamton to stay with Heather overnight. We spent the evening working at her husband's orchestra concert (more fun than it sounds! There were cookies!), then got ice cream with her husband and father-in-law. This morning we went to church, which was interesting in more ways than one. First, everyone there was so nice! The congregation is small and Heather is a teacher at the school there. The members are mostly on the older side, and many of them greeted me and were genuinely interested to hear my back story. Second, the church has a new pastor, and he's so young! I'm not sure I've ever been to a church where the pastor was younger than me! Young and fresh is good, though! Third, I had a chance to see a lot of the Binghamton flood damage in person. As you may recall, the Binghamton area got slammed in August by a passing hurricane's rain, and there was widespread flooding. It was pretty crazy to see major businesses--Home Depot, McDonald's--still closed months later, and old Victorian houses with nothing inside them, some offered for sale "as-is". Sad stuff. We actually went to a newly reopened Pizza Hut whose trademark red booths had been replaced with plain old tables and chairs. That was odd! The visit with Heather was a good chance to catch up and reminisce about some of the nearly 30 years that we've known one another (well, 28, but who's counting? ;-) ).
I did the drive back this afternoon and came back to an empty house. Boo. A little while later, Craig walked in with a sleeping Jacob over his shoulder. For the second day in a row, Jacob fell asleep around dinner time. Yesterday he woke up at 10:30pm and stayed awake until 2:30am! Thank goodness I wasn't here, because that would have sucked. I couldn't risk that tonight because we have to be up for an early doctor appointment tomorrow, so I woke up the sleeping monster sometime after 6pm and endured his wrath for a while until he really woke up and realized he missed me. I got a big hug and an "I love you" tonight, so that was pretty awesome.
I missed him a lot while I was gone. A lot of people asked about him--probably because a lot of the folks at Lois' shower knew I had a baby right before the wedding--and the whole baby thing definitely made me think about him in simpler times. I didn't miss the misbehavior, of course, but I missed his sweet smile and his hugs. Coming back to a way off schedule child wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, though. However, I suppose it's the price I pay for some alone time to think, shop, talk uninterrupted, be spontaneous, and pay attention in church.
This whole weekend was a bit of a test run for three weeks from now when I pack my bags to head out to Portland for five days to see my new nephew Max and the rest of my brother's family. I can't wait, but admittedly I'm a bit nervous. It's not often I fly...alone...for five days...away from my child. Jacob was only six months old when my niece Kate was born, and with nursing and general concerns over leaving Jacob, I didn't get a chance to go visit. That meant that I didn't see Kate until she was over eight months old. I made a promise to myself to see this one early on, so this is my chance. I'm excited, but considering the stress of making sure things are set up when I leave (and of not having any control over things when I'm gone), I'm already a little nervous. I'm always nervous about flying, but the fear of flying with a child is even more intense. Yes, it will probably be fine, but it's still scary. I want to make sure the boys are prepared for life alone for a few (more) days, and I also want to ensure that I don't come back to a little boy who's fallen into bad habits. I'm definitely more of a planner than Craig (at least as far as Jacob is concerned), and sometimes I think Craig thinks about what's fun first, and what's better in the long run second. Sometimes it provides a good counterbalance to me, but sometimes (like the wacky napping this weekend, brought on by an ill-timed soccer game and football party) it makes things a little tougher. He might pay the consequences when they're alone, but I don't want to come back to find our good routines are out-of-whack, either. I know they'll have fun while I'm gone, but there's definitely more to it than that.
Alas, I have three weeks to obsess over that. Right now, I'm just grateful for the time to spend with two good friends and a little time alone for myself. It was a great weekend and I'm just happy to be back to the smiling face of my sweet boy.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Nauseated
I wish the post title was in reference to some sort of early pregnancy symptoms, but alas...nothing to report there. Instead, it's in reference to my feelings about this whole Penn State scandal. It's not often I get into posting about current events or politics, but geez, I just can't let this one slide. The scandal makes me so angry. And I don't think I'd feel quite that way (at least not as strongly) if I wasn't a parent. Particularly a parent of a sports-obsessed little boy.
I get it. I mean, Joe Paterno has been coaching at Penn State since my parents were in junior high, for goodness sakes. He's a legend. And obviously, to still be working at a job like that at 84 years old, he definitely loved it--and they loved him. The other night we were watching ESPN as they showed footage of students gathering on campus and at Paterno's house. The group got a little violent later in the night, but for the most part they were just there to support Paterno. Lovely gesture, but misguided sympathy, if you ask me. The guy helped cover up serious atrocities committed against innocent boys. Yes, he told the powers that be at the school, but when nothing came of it, how could he possibly stand by knowing it was still going on? How can a man that deals with a huge group of guys, probably most of whom he'd consider to be like sons to him, not be absolutely disgusted and appalled at the thought of any one of them being abused by anyone? I'm not talking about specifics here, as I don't believe Jerry Sandusky touched any of the Penn State players. I'm just talking about the same level of disgust I feel as a parent even thinking about someone taking those liberties with my son. How could he not look at his players and think how angry he'd be if someone had touched them when they were younger, too young to appropriately defend themselves? That's what I don't get.
I understand that people are arguing that Paterno didn't commit a crime. In some places it may be a crime, but apparently not in Pennsylvania. To me that's just semantics. They may not be able to arrest him, and that's fine. Annoying, but fine. Some people would argue that since it wasn't a crime, he shouldn't have lost his job. But how can you deny that his inaction, his willingness to overlook crimes committed by a friend, was so wrong on a moral level that it should cost him his job? If someone came into your office and murdered your co-worker, and you kept your mouth shut because you knew the murderer, don't you think that alone should be grounds to evict you from your job? No, those kids weren't killed, but I have to think their spirit was. And to me, that is enough.
Maybe the grad student who first witnessed it should have taken matters into his own hands when he saw that nothing was happening, but I can sort of imagine what might have been running through his head. He was a mere peon amidst giants, and if he did go to the cops, no doubt he'd have been shushed in a big way by the powers that be. He probably figured it would be career suicide, whereas if Paterno had been the whistleblower, he'd have probably been a hero. In the years that followed, that student became one of the football coaches himself, so maybe he too should be responsible for not fessing up at some point. I can't help but wonder if any of the people involved in this scandal, from the grad student on up, regret not telling more than they regret getting caught not telling.
The account of what that grad student encountered in the shower absolutely haunts me. To think that a 10-year-old child had to endure anal sex (sorry, graphic but true) from a grown man is beyond horrifying. It had to be so painful, so confusing, and so life-altering. These kids were underprivileged kids who were probably just grateful for the opportunity to be involved in this coach's program. I can imagine they didn't want to say anything for fear they'd lose the opportunities that were no doubt promised to them. Kids look up to authority figures like coaches and teachers. They trust them. And that's what makes these crimes so heinous when they come to light. These kids were innocent. They no doubt knew that what was happening was wrong, but I don't think they had any idea HOW wrong. It hurt them, it allowed a grown-up to have power over them, and had such horrible implications for the rest of their life. I can't imagine what those victims' present and future hold as far as relationship troubles, sexual problems, trust issues, and haunting nightmares. As much as this thing had to come to light and may, in the end, bring some closure, I'd have to imagine that reliving all of this stuff now through the media has to be incredibly difficult. Heck, I wonder if in some twisted way they feel guilty for what happened to Paterno...that it's their fault that he got fired. God forbid that's the case.
As we were watching the throngs of students that were out and about supporting Paterno that night, I started to get angry. While this whole situation was already so horrible, my anger went to a new level when I saw that. I even posted a Facebook status about it. I can't believe how short-sighted those college kids are, and it sort of supports what I feel like I've seen from so many kids around that age (experience mostly with interns, honestly). I've long felt that there's a disconnect between cause and effect and a complete denial of consequences. You see so many college kids coming out into the world thinking that they deserve a $60K per year job (and that's probably conservative), yet they have no experience and no desire to work hard in a crap job to get there. They've had helicopter parents that were their friends instead of their disciplinarians--the kind of parents that blame the teacher rather than their own child. I'm not saying all kids are like that, but apparently there was a troublingly large group of kids that valued a man's contribution to a football program over the well being of eight young boys whose innocence was taken from them. Instead of standing outside Paterno's house, how about holding a candlelight vigil for the real victims of this atrocity?
It makes me physically ill to think of what those kids went through, and I can't even begin to comprehend the craziness that's contained in the mind of Jerry Sandusky. How anyone could ever think that was okay is just beyond me. And as a parent, I can't even fathom the venom that would result if anyone so much as laid a finger on Jacob. I have no doubt that he will have many coaches throughout his sporting life, and it pains me to think that any of them might be untrustworthy. This whole situation serves as a strong reminder to be vigilant--Keep your eyes and ears open because you never know what tiny little clues your child might let slip. Even though it's hard for me to fathom, it seems like we might be close to the point where we need to sit down with Jacob and give him a brief, simple talk about private parts and how they need to remain private. It seems so early, but I guess you never can be too careful. Of course, I have no idea how we'll get him to sit through and listen to such a serious talk, since we can barely get him to do that for disciplinary purposes.
Anyway, the whole situation is so sickening and it boggles the mind how in a world where people freak out about the most insignificant stuff, a tragedy like this is allowed to go on quietly for years. God bless those poor kids, and may they find the healing they need.
I get it. I mean, Joe Paterno has been coaching at Penn State since my parents were in junior high, for goodness sakes. He's a legend. And obviously, to still be working at a job like that at 84 years old, he definitely loved it--and they loved him. The other night we were watching ESPN as they showed footage of students gathering on campus and at Paterno's house. The group got a little violent later in the night, but for the most part they were just there to support Paterno. Lovely gesture, but misguided sympathy, if you ask me. The guy helped cover up serious atrocities committed against innocent boys. Yes, he told the powers that be at the school, but when nothing came of it, how could he possibly stand by knowing it was still going on? How can a man that deals with a huge group of guys, probably most of whom he'd consider to be like sons to him, not be absolutely disgusted and appalled at the thought of any one of them being abused by anyone? I'm not talking about specifics here, as I don't believe Jerry Sandusky touched any of the Penn State players. I'm just talking about the same level of disgust I feel as a parent even thinking about someone taking those liberties with my son. How could he not look at his players and think how angry he'd be if someone had touched them when they were younger, too young to appropriately defend themselves? That's what I don't get.
I understand that people are arguing that Paterno didn't commit a crime. In some places it may be a crime, but apparently not in Pennsylvania. To me that's just semantics. They may not be able to arrest him, and that's fine. Annoying, but fine. Some people would argue that since it wasn't a crime, he shouldn't have lost his job. But how can you deny that his inaction, his willingness to overlook crimes committed by a friend, was so wrong on a moral level that it should cost him his job? If someone came into your office and murdered your co-worker, and you kept your mouth shut because you knew the murderer, don't you think that alone should be grounds to evict you from your job? No, those kids weren't killed, but I have to think their spirit was. And to me, that is enough.
Maybe the grad student who first witnessed it should have taken matters into his own hands when he saw that nothing was happening, but I can sort of imagine what might have been running through his head. He was a mere peon amidst giants, and if he did go to the cops, no doubt he'd have been shushed in a big way by the powers that be. He probably figured it would be career suicide, whereas if Paterno had been the whistleblower, he'd have probably been a hero. In the years that followed, that student became one of the football coaches himself, so maybe he too should be responsible for not fessing up at some point. I can't help but wonder if any of the people involved in this scandal, from the grad student on up, regret not telling more than they regret getting caught not telling.
The account of what that grad student encountered in the shower absolutely haunts me. To think that a 10-year-old child had to endure anal sex (sorry, graphic but true) from a grown man is beyond horrifying. It had to be so painful, so confusing, and so life-altering. These kids were underprivileged kids who were probably just grateful for the opportunity to be involved in this coach's program. I can imagine they didn't want to say anything for fear they'd lose the opportunities that were no doubt promised to them. Kids look up to authority figures like coaches and teachers. They trust them. And that's what makes these crimes so heinous when they come to light. These kids were innocent. They no doubt knew that what was happening was wrong, but I don't think they had any idea HOW wrong. It hurt them, it allowed a grown-up to have power over them, and had such horrible implications for the rest of their life. I can't imagine what those victims' present and future hold as far as relationship troubles, sexual problems, trust issues, and haunting nightmares. As much as this thing had to come to light and may, in the end, bring some closure, I'd have to imagine that reliving all of this stuff now through the media has to be incredibly difficult. Heck, I wonder if in some twisted way they feel guilty for what happened to Paterno...that it's their fault that he got fired. God forbid that's the case.
As we were watching the throngs of students that were out and about supporting Paterno that night, I started to get angry. While this whole situation was already so horrible, my anger went to a new level when I saw that. I even posted a Facebook status about it. I can't believe how short-sighted those college kids are, and it sort of supports what I feel like I've seen from so many kids around that age (experience mostly with interns, honestly). I've long felt that there's a disconnect between cause and effect and a complete denial of consequences. You see so many college kids coming out into the world thinking that they deserve a $60K per year job (and that's probably conservative), yet they have no experience and no desire to work hard in a crap job to get there. They've had helicopter parents that were their friends instead of their disciplinarians--the kind of parents that blame the teacher rather than their own child. I'm not saying all kids are like that, but apparently there was a troublingly large group of kids that valued a man's contribution to a football program over the well being of eight young boys whose innocence was taken from them. Instead of standing outside Paterno's house, how about holding a candlelight vigil for the real victims of this atrocity?
It makes me physically ill to think of what those kids went through, and I can't even begin to comprehend the craziness that's contained in the mind of Jerry Sandusky. How anyone could ever think that was okay is just beyond me. And as a parent, I can't even fathom the venom that would result if anyone so much as laid a finger on Jacob. I have no doubt that he will have many coaches throughout his sporting life, and it pains me to think that any of them might be untrustworthy. This whole situation serves as a strong reminder to be vigilant--Keep your eyes and ears open because you never know what tiny little clues your child might let slip. Even though it's hard for me to fathom, it seems like we might be close to the point where we need to sit down with Jacob and give him a brief, simple talk about private parts and how they need to remain private. It seems so early, but I guess you never can be too careful. Of course, I have no idea how we'll get him to sit through and listen to such a serious talk, since we can barely get him to do that for disciplinary purposes.
Anyway, the whole situation is so sickening and it boggles the mind how in a world where people freak out about the most insignificant stuff, a tragedy like this is allowed to go on quietly for years. God bless those poor kids, and may they find the healing they need.
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