“Mom, I Peed”

I AM DONE WITH POTTY TRAINING!

Done!

I don’t care who you talk to but when it comes down to it, diapers are just easier.

Sure they cost a lot when you are buying them to cover 3 little butts and sure, they produce a heck of a lot of pollutions but when you put a diaper on a child you are done.

You don’t have to make 1200 trips to the potty in every single store you go into. You don’t have to scrape poop crusted in underwear because a certain child didn’t say anything. And you certainly don’t have to deal with large pee puddles in the middle of a check out lane in the grocery store.

Diapers are awesome and my children will be in them until college!

Let me back up and tell you what happened that caused me to decide to forever keep my children in diapers.

First you need to understand that potty training is a job that I just loath. I can’t stand it and as a parent I dread it. So that is why I wait as long as possible to train my children.

To me, training a child at two or even younger is just silly.  Sure they are two year olds that can pee when placed on a potty but I believe that they are too young to understand how the whole process works. I want my children to be able to tell me that they have to potty and not me having to tell them its time to potty.

I am potty trained and have been for 30 some years, thank you very much.

So that is why about 3 weeks ago, after weeks of watching Quinn and Claire tune into their bodies and begin to tell me when they pooped and peed in their diapers, did I decide to was time to make the switch to underwear and using the potty.

I first focused efforts on Claire and after a week of her doing really well, I started Quinn. Both kids seems to be doing great and I even made a tweet claiming that I had two out of the three potty trained.

(Jake is a whole other story. He is totally not ready and if given the opportunity would sit in a dirty diaper for days. He just doesn’t get it.  I think Christmas is when we’ll start him.)

Things were going really well. And I even patted myself on the back for figuring out a way to successfully potty train triplets. But then something happened.

Claire and Quinn started to refuse to sit on the potty. They cried and fussed every time. And I had to ask them, they just stopped telling me. They both began just peeing in their underwear and Quinn has taken to pooping in his. They ask, no beg, to be put back in diapers.

And then there was this fiasco.

I had to make a quick trip to the store. As usual, after a fight, I had Quinn and Claire go potty before we left. I figured this would give me at least an hour to shop and get things done.

For the most part, the trip went smoothly but as we were in line at to check out, I noticed Quinn begin to play with himself, a sure sign he needed to pee.  Hayden then told me that he had to pee and that he could take Quinn to the bathroom with him.

I wasn’t sure about the idea at first but I felt I had no choice. I had most of my cart unloaded on the belt and the line behind me was long and Quinn started his potty dance so I let them go.

I watched them walk off to the bathroom and said a little prayer that God would keep them safe from child molesters.

“Make sure to use the woman’s bathroom. THE WOMAN’S ROOM!” I yelled after Hayden. I then looked up at the cashier hoping for some support, hoping it would be a mom who would understand this struggle but all the young guy gave me was an eye roll and then another one.

Quickly, I emptied the rest of the cart onto the belt all the time watching for Hayden and Quinn to return and soon my gaze fell upon Hayden leaving the bathroom, alone.

I knew something was wrong so I told the cashier that I had to take my kids to the bathroom and ran with Jake and Claire in tow. I met Hayden on his walk back and asked, “Where is Quinn?”

Hayden, God love him, gave me a blank stare so I pushed past him to the bathroom only to find Quinn screaming at the top of his lungs, pants around his ankles, soaked and standing in a puddle.

I did the only thing I could do. I scooped him up and ran back to the cart hoping that by now, all the groceries where in bags and I could just pay and go. As we got closer to the cart, I realize that Claire in not beside me.

I looked up and saw her standing a few feet away from me in a puddle of her own.

“Mom, I peed,” she said once I was in ear shot.

I wanted to just run and hide. I wanted to wake up from this horrible dream but I couldn’t. This was real, this was my life.

So with Quinn still soaked and screaming, I deposited him in the cart, got back to Claire, deposited her in the cart, threw the grocery bags in the cart, paid, told the cashier that he  needed to call someone to clean up a pee puddle in the Ladies room and another one by the pony and left.

I smiled as sweetly as I could as we walked by the cashier but all I got was yet another eye roll.

So yeah, I. Am. Done.

Diapers in college, here they come.

I am sharing this with you as my Mortifying Mommy Moment and linking up with Mommy Mombo.

The Never Ending Cycle of a Carnival

I have so many good ideas when it comes to doing things together as a family. This summer our weekends have been full of fun family activities like going to the beach, picnics in the park and spending a day at a historic Dutch village (yeah, that was just about as much fun as it sounds).

But this past weekend, had to be one of my greatest idea yet. On the hottest day of the summer, I thought it would be fun to take my family to a carnival and a baseball game.

Besides all of us loosing about 5 pounds each in water weight from the sweating, it was a really fun time. This being the kids first ever carnival, they were totally psyched.

They could not wait to ride the small Ferris wheel and spinning tea cups. They were super excited about all the bounce houses. They wanted to play every single games they saw. And every time we passed a food booth they begged for a treat.

It was really fun to see them so excited about everything but as the day went on, I learned something about how the carnivals, and for that matter amusement parks in general, work.

Here is what happens:

Every person yells and screams about which rides they want to go on and they want to go on their choice first.

Decided upon  plan of action and list out which ride will be first.

Go get in line for first ride.

Children all excited about ride. Jump around in line. Yell and scream in line. Run into people also waiting in line.

Wait in line, slowly move to front.

Children realize that waiting in line sucks. Children start to whine and beg to go home. Children try to hang on parents who are hot and sweaty from standing in the sun in line.

Still wait in line, slowly move to front.

Children now crying. Some are hungry, others are tired and still others want to go home. Parents begin to wonder why in the world they decided to do this.

Suddenly, its time to get on the ride. Children super excited. Everyone happy.

Ride starts. Children laugh and giggle in delight. Everyone is happy.

Get off ride, everyone had a get time. Everyone wants to ride another ride.

Decided which ride is next, get in line.

Children all excited about ride. Jump around in line. Yell and scream in line. Run into people also waiting in line.

Wait in line, slowly move to front.

And then the cycle continues on and on for the entire time you are at the park.

So basically a carnival is just a never ending cycle of excitement, misery of waiting in line, excitement, misery of waiting in line, excitement, misery of waiting in line, excitement… well, you get the idea.

So that is why I decided that the next time, we go to a carnival it is going to be when I can just drop the kids off at a ride and then go and find some air conditioning.

Oh and maybe a little ice cream too.

Even the Toys are Against Us

If you are parent, try and remember a time that you had an actual conversation with your spouse without being interrupted by a small child?

Can’t remember a time?

Well, I think that is because you can’t. This simply doesn’t exist.

It is impossible to have a conversation with each other of any importance when children around. You can start and get really into it and then a child will fall and start bleeding or another one will pull a book shelf on themselves or another one will have something really important to tell you about how Pokemon evolve or another will desperately try to get your attention and then when you finally give it to him, he will become tongue tide and not say a word.

By the time you deal with all these distractions the conversation that you were having with your spouse is long gone. The thoughts are lost. The point is missed and usually the whole thing is forgotten.

No wonder why there are so many communication issues in a  marriage.

Well, after learning this the hard way, Jeff and I talk after the kids in bed. Sometimes these talks involve just discussing the plan for the week and other times they are more serious like talking about who should be then one to put the suitcase away. But whatever the topic, it is just nice to have a conversation without any interruptions.

But lately, this time is filled with interruptions too. The toys are being to turn against us.

Here, let me demonstrate.

Jen: Now next week, I have to work on..

Toy: AAAAA

Jen: I am working on Tuesday and Thursday and I have a class on Wednesday. What should we do about…

Toy: Big bird, you say the letter.

Jeff: What should we do with what?

Jen: What?

Toy: A…Y…. B

Jeff: What did you say?

Toy: Big Bird, you say the letter

Jen: I want to know what we should do…

Toy: B… A… A… B…

Jeff: Huh?

Toy: Let’s learn some words.

Jen: Oh, never mind.

See, if it is not the kids stopping us from talking, it is the toys.

I am beginning to think that the only way to have an uninterrupted conversation with my husband is to text him, even if he is in the same room as me.

She’s Got the Smarts

From the moment our children are born, we want them to be successful.

First it is successful with feeding and then sleeping and then mastering all the mile stones that come during that first year of life.

Once these steps are mastered, we move onto things that show intelligence like being able to recognize and say shapes and colors and then its letter and number recognition. And even before our children are in school,  we work with them on early math and reading skills.

Jeff and I are no different with these hopes and dreams. We sit down with our kids and turn on the TV and let it do the educating. Of course, we help them participate.

Like the other night, we put on an episode of Blue’s Clues about weights and measures. The object of the activity was to tell the host, Steve, which one of the two objects is heavier.

Jeff engaged the kids by repeating the question, “Which one is heavier,” he asked, “a strawberry or a bagel?”

All the boys quickly yelled, “Bagel!”

Claire being the independent woman that she is, went against the crowd and yelled, “Strawberry!”

When the answer was revealed to be the bagel as the boys had said, Jeff encouraged Claire to try again, “It’s ok, honey. Here try again, which one is bigger and weighs more, the feather or the rock.”

The little boys, taking their cue from Hayden, began to scream, “The Rock! The Rock!”

Claire again, letting her independent nature shine said, “NO! Uer wrong. The feather, the feather!”

This time it was Hayden who tried to correct our little head strong girl, “Claire, honey, the rock is way more bigger than the feather.”

“No!” Claire screamed as she turned to bury her head in Jeff’s chest.

And Jeff being the awesome dad that he is comforted her by saying, “Don’t worry honey, math is hard. You’ll just have to get by on looks.”

Claire turned her big blue eyes up towards Jeff and said, “Yeah.”

I guess, if you can’t be smart, you might as well be pretty.

Yeah, we are raising them kids up right.

Dirty Little Secret

“Emma! Emma! You stop that right now and get down here!”

I looked up from tweeting on my phone to watch a father try to get his daughter down and out of the play area.

“Emma, NOW! Get down here!” He repeated again. You could hear the anger and frustration rising in his voice.

I tried to concentrate on what I was doing because I hate it when people stare and gawk at me when I am trying to get my kids to listen but I couldn’t help it. I just had to watch because let’s face it, I was just glad that it was not me.

“Emma. Come down here, RIGHT NOW!” I heard the father say again and then I heard him mumble under his breath, “Yeah, your smiling now but your are not going to be.”

And that right there is when I realized that she knew the secret. She knew the little secret that all parents know and that we don’t want our kids to know. I was terrified. I looked around to make sure that my kids weren’t watching this.

What if they were watching this?!

What if they were taking notes and figuring out this secret that I desperately don’t want them to know?

Thankfully, they were on the other side of the play area dropping their Happy Meal toys on unsuspecting children. Whew, there is no way I want them to learn this.

I do not want them to know that when you let your child go and play in any of those lovely play areas like a Play Land at McDonald’s and they begin to misbehave or refuse to come down, we parents are helpless.

You can scream and yell at your child all you want but there is no way that that kid is going to come down when they know they are in trouble. I mean, can you blame them? They are totally safe because what parent is going to risk taking their large ass up there and getting it stuck.

(Not that any of you have a large as in huge ass but you know what I mean. Even with a teeny tweeny ass, you could get stuck.)

I know that I don’t want this. I have had to climb up in those things more times than I care to remember to retrieve a scared child. That is why when I want my kids to come down, I always tell them that I have a treat and then they come running.

Because there is no way that I want my kids to figure out this little secret. I just can’t have this. Those play area’s are my life saver during the winter and on rainy days.

At What Age Can Kids Understand Sarcasm?

I have never claimed to be a parenting expert, quite the opposite actually. I really have no idea what I am doing in this parenting thing. I just go with the flow and make it up as I go along.

That is why I have some moments that would make Florence Henderson’s head spin. These moments are when I shine as a parent. They let me know that I sort of do know what I am doing.

Let me set the scene. Its dinner time. The kids have been whining for food for about 2 hours and dinner has been delayed because I had to take time to go and rescue Quinn and Claire from a pricker bush which Hayden led them into while taking them on a ‘nature hike’. When I finally get dinner on the table the kids are crazy. They can’t get the food in their mouths fast enough.

Hayden is rocking on his chair in excitement. He is not just rocking but also tipping the chair as he flings his body from side to side.  If he keeps this up, he is going to fall. I don’t want to deal with a kid who has fallen so I say,

“Hayden, if you keep rocking your chair from side to side like that you are going to fall and hit your head and get a big owie that will bleed all over the place.  And mommy and daddy will not feel sorry for you because you have been told before not to do this. Now,stop!”

Then Jeff, the most sarcastic parent of all, adds, “Yeah and then mommy will have to blog about it because fall off your chair is just funny.”

And that right there makes us good, no great parents. Any day now, those parenting book offers will come pouring into my inbox and I am expecting you all to nominate us for parents of the year. Yeah, we are that good.

The Things They Remember

“Hayden, now remember mommy and daddy are not going to be home tomorrow after you get home from school,” I told Hayden as I tucked him into bed one night.

“Why?” He asked as he wiggled and squirmed around in his bed trying to find that just right comfy spot.

“Well, Uncle Lance is graduating from school and mommy and daddy are going to go and watch him,” I pulling the blankets up to his chin and tucked him in tight.

“Oh wow,” he said with a big smile of his face, “is uncle Lance going to be done with pimp school?”

I stopped and just looked at him. I couldn’t believe that he actually remember this. When Hayden was about 2 years old, my brother Lance started vet school. Jeff in all his great wisdom thought it would be funny to tell Hayden that Lance was going to school to become a pimp. Basically, it was Jeff’s goal to replace the word veterinarian with the word pimp in Hayden’s vocabulary.

For some reason, Hayden picked up on this right away and all the members of my family thought it was so funny to ask Hayden, “What is uncle Lance going to school for?’ To which Hayden would answer with a big smile, “A pimp!” And we would all laugh.

Eventually, Hayden grew out of this and I, must to Jeff’s disappointment, explained to Hayden what uncle Lance was actually going to school for. It had been years since we talked about uncle Lance being a pimp. I was a little dumb founded that years later, Hayden remember this because normally Hayden can’t remember where he set his DS two seconds after he put it down.

“Mommy?” Hayden said pulling me back from my thoughts. “Is uncle Lance finally done with pimp school?”

“Yes, Hayden,” I said in between laughs, “uncle Lance is done with pimp school.”

“Mom,” Hayden said with a very serious look on his face, “I think that I will be go to school to be a pimp when I grow up because uncle Lance is cool and being a pimp is awesome.”

All I could do was laugh but I also made a mental to make sure the kids talk to me after their father teaches them anything.