Mixed Blessings (ie: Be Careful What You Wish For!) -- by Jamie

I think every mother wishes for the day when she can stop buying diapers; I certainly did. And I’m so relieved that after months of potty training, Jayda now wears underwear all the time. Thus, the other day, when I picked Jayda up from daycare, knowing we weren’t heading directly home, I did what I always do these days, and asked Jayda if she needed to use the bathroom before we left. She insisted that she did not, so, we took off on our thirty-minute drive to our play date. When we were half-way there, Jayda mumbled that she was going to use the potty at her friend’s house; however, we weren’t going to her friend’s house, and instead, her friend’s mom and I had planned to meet on a main street of their town to look at the Christmas decorations before dinner. When I explained this to Jayda, she replied, “Uh oh. Whose potty I use? I need to go.” Oy. I frantically looked for a place at which to stop along the road, found a diner, and raced Jayda out of the car and through the snow-filled parking lot. Once inside, Jayda took her time, but eventually did her business. In the midst of my irritation over how late we were becoming for our play date, not to mention the discomfort I was feeling from my now snow-covered shoes, I forced myself to plaster on a big smile, and praised Jayda for letting me know that she’d had to go—and for holding it in until she’d gotten to a bathroom like a “big girl.” She had, indeed, exhibited marvelous behavior for a 2-1/2 year old, but, at the time, it didn’t seem like such a wonderful thing to me and my freezing cold toes.

It reminded me of the time before Jayda turned two, when most of her spoken words were garbled and difficult to understand. My mom used to exclaim, “I can’t wait until Jayda can REALLY talk!” And now? My daughter never shuts up. While it has been amazing to witness her remarkable speech development, hearing Jayda speak 24/7 isn’t a complete joy. Like all curious toddlers, my daughter loves asking, “Why?” She has questions about everything and everyone, and they’re often quite random. Sometimes she’ll ask me what someone whom she hasn’t seen for months is doing right at that moment, or what kind of bed one of her friends sleeps in, when it’s the middle of the day. She wants to know everyone’s name—from the friend whom I’m on my cell phone with to the cashier at the supermarket whom I exchange five words with, and, simply, loves to chatter. Lately, Jayda loves talking about her day with me—what we’ve done already, what we’re going to do, and what our plans are for the next day—over and over and over again. She’ll often ask me to “talk our day” when I have a hundred other things to do—or talk about—at that moment, and gets very upset when I refuse to respond in detail. Another habit Jayda has developed, is repeating everything she hears: She often exclaims “Oh my gawd!” and “Oy!” just like her mother, and I must be very careful about what I say.

Jayda’s a smart little girl, and she’s quite clever with her choice of words. She knows the power of the word “please,” and, at times when I’ve refused her a second cookie or another Barney DVD, she sweetly pleads, “Please!” which is oh-so-difficult to refuse. Similarly, when I’m angry with Jayda about something, and am in the middle of reprimanding her, she’s been known to interrupt me with “I wuv you mommy! I wuv you a bushel and a kleck and a hug around the neck,” which certainly distracts me from my anger. So, while I do appreciate the fact that Jayda is such a good communicator now, it isn’t always a positive experience for me.

Another important characteristic that I’ve always wished for in my child is independence. While I’ll always cherish having a kid who adores me, and who loves being around me, I think most moms, including myself, do not relish the thought of a clingy child. Fortunately, Jayda, who still exhibits an enormous amount of affection for me, has truly started to become her own little person—one who thinks for herself, and, often even takes care of herself. But even that has its downsides, because lately, every thing that needs to be done for Jayda is something that she insists, “I do by myself.” This includes picking out her outfits (which, to my mortification, often don’t match), dressing and undressing herself (even when it means struggling with a zipper for fifteen minutes), and attempting to tie her own shoes (ie: twirling her laces around and around, sometimes forming knots). I can’t even hand Jayda a cookie these days without her throwing a fit about wanting to pick her OWN cookie out of the box. Jayda’s a willful child, and while that is a wonderful quality for her to possess in the long-run, in the short-term it leads to a lot of frustration for both of us. And, for me, a person who thrives on always being on time, it has meant trying to acquire a whole lot of patience when it suddenly takes us twice as long as usual to accomplish a task—and get out the door.

For every milestone Jayda reaches, I am, of course, thankful, and am more than willing to cheer and praise my child. Her development amazes me, and I marvel at what a wonderful “big girl” she’s becoming. Yet I also realize that with every achievement comes new challenges (often just for me!). Growing up isn’t easy—for either of us—but I’m learning to take the bad with the good. My child is thriving, and that’s what matters most.

Too Sweet for Our Own Good -- by Jamie

I don’t have many vices: I’ve never smoked. I rarely drink. And I certainly don’t take drugs. I also eat very healthfully, and exercise 5-6 days a week. However, I do adore candy. Not chocolate, and nothing fancy—just crappy, commercial, sugar-infused treats! Show me a package of Swedish Fish, and I’ll inhale it. Bring me a bag of jelly beans and I won’t stop at just a handful. Things like Mike and Ikes, Tootsie Pops, Chuckles, candy corn, and even Dots are all fair game. When it comes to sugar, just a little can set me off on a calorie-laden binge. So, generally, I try to avoid it.

It has always been my intention to have my daughter, Jayda, eat as healthfully as I do. From the moment she started consuming solid foods, she became a fan of Greek yogurt, all kinds of fresh fruit, and mostly healthy treats—as I offered her homemade zucchini/carrot bread in lieu of cupcakes, and Fig Newtons instead of Oreos. I didn’t even introduce her to ice cream until she was almost two: Jayda adored yogurt with smashed berries in it so much, I figured she didn’t need strawberry ice cream in her life. But my, oh my, how things have changed!

Jayda got her first taste of a candy-like treat when she received a packet of chewy fruit snacks (made with real fruit juice, as the label touted!) at a party. She adored them, and inhaled the entire bag. Soon after, she was treated to a gummi bear at a friend’s house, and noticed the similarity—it was yummy! At the time, we were embarking on potty training, so I decided to use a gummi bear as a reward every time Jayda peed on the potty. Then, my mother added her leftover M&M’s to the bag. Soon, my smart little toddler was using the potty once for a gummi bear, and then running back to the bathroom not 10 minutes later to pee again (for an M&M this time, of course). I’d created a monster.

When Halloween rolled around, it brought with it memories of my blissful childhood candy binges. Thus, as I dug into my own bag of candy corn, I decided to let Jayda create her own wonderful memories of my favorite holiday. While we went trick or treating, I let my candy-fanatic-in-training have full control of her candy until bedtime, and she grazed through her bag of treats with my blessings. But when she woke up the next day asking for Halloween again—and tantrumed when I told her Halloween was over—I knew I had a problem. As a compromise, I doled out bits of her left-over treats when she used the potty: A piece of a Kit-Kat for one bathroom visit, a mini-Snickers for another. But as I looked at my child’s chocolate-smeared face one morning, I had to admit Jayda was consuming waaaaaay too much candy.

That’s when I decided to implement a reward chart: Every time Jayda uses the potty, she earns a sticker. After she fills a row on the chart with six stickers, she can reach into a fancy bag I created and choose a treat. The bag is filled with everything from makeup to sparkly barrettes to a Tootsie Pop and a small bag of M&Ms. In no time, Jayda was earning stickers and selecting candy from the bag. Just candy…and always candy. Even the lip gloss she’d long coveted has been brushed aside every time Jayda gets her hands on “the bag.” And when Jayda has a candy craving, and realizes she doesn’t have enough stickers on her chart to warrant some, she cries…and cries.

My daughter has been fully potty trained since Thanksgiving. She even made it into the city this week on the Long Island Railroad, and spent the day with me perusing store windows, checking out the tree, and watching the ice skaters at Rockefeller Center—happily using bathrooms wherever we went. She also made it through a trip to FAO Schwartz without asking me to buy her a single thing—except when we walked by the candy section of the store. She didn’t mind leaving FAO without a new toy, but she did want a big, swirly lollypop—and she wanted it badly.

The holidays are nearly over, and with the New Year, comes resolutions. This year, I’m resolving to get rid of Jayda’s reward chart—and the candy. Of course I’ll allow Jayda to have a lollypop now and then, or even a bag of M&Ms once a week. But her dose of daily candy has got to stop. Because no matter how I try to sugar-coat it, Jayda is her mother’s daughter…and she’s becoming a candy addict, too. And now it’s this addict’s job to teach Jayda a lesson in moderation. Maybe we’ll both learn something together!

Surprising Discoveries -- by Jamie

A few days ago, my daughter, Jayda, turned 2-1/2, and, just as she did from the start, my willful child continues to keep me on my toes, and surprise me.

On the morning of May 18, 2007, after experiencing a rather easy pregnancy, I found myself at my OB/GYN’s office, because I was a few days past my due date. At the end of the exam, my doctor instructed me to go to the hospital at 6 p.m. that night so he could induce me; he said it was unwise for me to wait any longer, and that it was time for Jayda to come into the world. But, at brunch with my parents just a few hours later, I started to feel cramps. The cramps persisted, and then worsened on the ride home, and later that afternoon, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I agreed to go to the hospital early. There, I discovered I was, indeed, in labor—and there would be no need for an inducement.

After settling into the hospital, and receiving a much-needed epidural, I assumed I could relax for awhile. But shortly after I started to get comfortable, everything went awry. My fetal monitor went off, the attending nurse covered me with an oxygen mask, and before I knew it, my hospital room had turned into an episode of ”ER”—with doctors frantically rushing in and wheeling me out to an OR. I found out later—after Jayda was quickly brought into this world by an emergency C-section—that my monitor had indicated that my daughter had gone into distress, and my swift doctors had jumped into action and saved her. So, what started as a possible induction and continued as a “normal” labor, was resolved with a C-section; even at birth, Jayda was full of surprises.

The morning of Jayda’s 2-1/2 birthday began with my daughter and me cuddling in my bed. As usual, Jayda prodded me to “talk about our day,” and I gave her a preview of her upcoming school day, as well as our afterschool activities, which involved a play date. When I was finished, she gave me a hug and declared, “Mommy, you my best friend!” It was one of those unexpected gems that often comes out of Jayda’s mouth these days—a surprising reminder of what a sweet, articulate little person my daughter is becoming.

When we got out of bed that morning, Jayda insisted on wearing underpants under her leggings. We’d been potty training for awhile, but Jayda usually ran around the house in a pair of pull-ups, or completely nude from the waist down, most mornings before we left for daycare. I relented though, helped her put on her princess undies, and took her with me on a ride to Dunkin Donuts for coffee. Then, we came home for a few hours, and Jayda remained dry the entire time. She even asked to use the potty twice, successfully, before leaving for daycare. But as I went to change her into a pair of pull ups before we left the house, she threw a fit, and refused to take off her underpants. “I a big girl now,” she declared, and, as I looked at the calendar and noticed what day it was, I couldn’t help but agree. Thus, my willful child won this battle, and sported her princess undies at daycare for the very first time.

Later that day, Jayda surprised me again, when I picked her up from daycare and found her in unsoiled clothes, still wearing her treasured underpants. She even requested that she wear her underpants to school the next day, too. My little girl really is a “big girl” now. And while I’m not surprised that Jayda is growing up, I AM surprised by how quickly it’s happening, and how determined my daughter has already become to be “her own little person.” Fortunately, it’s a person who constantly amazes me with her humor, intelligence, and sensitivity—and a person whom I love more and more each day. And while I’m not so sure she’ll think of me as her best friend forever, maybe she’ll surprise me. I sure hope so.

Admission from the Potty Challenged

We took Seth to the pediatrician this week. He has a nasty cough. And, while we were very concerned about it, the pediatrician seemed more intrigued about the fact that at age four he is in pullups.

I admit it. We are a potty training challenged family.

We have tried. Last summer we had it partially nailed...so I thought....the #1 bodily function, as they say. My son was pretty consistently alerting us when he had to pee. #2 has never worked. Once we got lucky, and he pooped in the potty, and we celebrated....thinking he was now on the path to bathroom success. Well, that lasted a day, and he was back to having constant accidents. Even his new cool Spiderman briefs couldn't motivate him to speak up.

Once he started nursery school, it seemed that he digressed completely, since it
changed his daily routine. And, he now rarely, if ever, says he needs to go potty....whether for #1 or 2. On top of it, he denies when he does it in his pullup and doesn't even mind walking around in it.....until we have to use 1/2 a tube of Balmex to treat his irritated skin.

What's a mom to do?

So....we are now consulting a parenting pro to see what light she can shed.

Bribery hasn't even worked......not even a supersize rescue helicopter that he couldn't wait to get his hands on.

I have joked that he won't walk down the aisle in pullups when he gets married one day. But, since we have a long way to go until the wedding, we have to somehow get with the potty training program sooner than later.