Potty Training - 19 months

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that potty training would come quickly and so easily with Aedan. He has always been ahead of the game. It may have taken him longer to get to size 3 diapers (which we are still in), or to weigh 20 lbs, and he doesn’t really eat like a 1 and a half year old, either. But what he lacks in size, he makes up in intellect and then some.

So here’s the story…

For the past month or so Aedan’s been showing all the signs of “I’m ready to pee in the potty like a big boy.” He was pooping in private, telling me when he needs a diaper changed, even stands at the toilet and mimics Mitchell when he pees.  So we decided to get a potty training toilet for him last Saturday, thinking that we can introduce it slowly and he can play pretend. Even our pediatrician said that at this age toddlers can’t really control their pee and poop but introducing it is a good idea. Well, we didn’t really play with it much on Sunday (since it was Mother’s day) and he only sat on it maybe once on Monday. But come Tuesday evening as Mitchell was getting ready to give him a bath our big boy decided to use the potty for the first time!

Mitchell ran into our bathroom ecstatic with our naked baby in his arms and tears in his eyes and shouted, “Mister pooped in the potty! Mister pooped in the potty!” I was soaking in our tub with my new chocolate bath bubbles (one of my Mother’s Day presents) and reading Bloom (another Mother’s Day present) when I heard the news. Right then and there I jumped up and as a family we rejoiced with the “Poopie in the Potty” dance!  

The past few days it has been all about the potty. I seriously haven’t changed a poopie diaper since Wednesday morning. He even went poopoo and peepee in the potty when we had lunch at the CPK—with no toddler toilet!

Yes. We know this is called bribery. Don't judge us!

So here we are—potty training at 19 months. I know there are several babies that potty train at a year and a half but I had it set in mind that we were about 6-8 months out from this stage. Just goes to show that I don’t make the rules. When they are ready, they are ready!

And funny enough, Little Mister likes his privacy. Who doesn’t?!? So when he is doing his business he makes us stand behind the shower curtain so we won’t see him. I've been trying to snap a few pictures of him on the potty (something I know his future wife will appreciate.) One time he grabbed my phone, turned on YouTube, and then pointed to the door as he asked me to leave. (He is just like his father!)

Potty training came just in time for my first video montage.

Mother's Day and a bunch of Amens!

I don’t know why but I woke up yesterday morning extra excited about mother’s day--just a little extra pep in my step if you know what I mean. I even sported the dangly earrings.  And I can’t really pinpoint why. Maybe it’s because I’m a Mother’s Day veteran had having it celebrated for me a whopping 1 ½ times before--the half accounting for when I was preggo--so I knew all the goodies that were coming my way. Or maybe it’s because my mom is cancer free and chemo updates are no longer a part of holiday conversations. Or maybe it’s because the arrival of my daughter, (oops!) I mean my niece, is just around the corner and for me she comes pain-free (sorry sis).  Whatever it was I’m just glad…. it was.

Interesting enough, that extra pep brought me into deep thought about 5 minutes after my delicious waffle & strawberry breakfast--made special just for me by my loving Mitchell. I’ve pondered maybe a million times of what kind of mother I will be. I think there are two perceptions of the type of mother a woman is. There is a.) The type she thinks she is, and there is b.) The type her grown adult children think she is. And being the mother expert that I am (with a whole 19 months under my belt) I believe the latter is the actual truth. (But this is only true when the children are adults and not idiots themselves. This theory definitely doesn’t work during adolescent years.)

So what type of mother will I be? Of course I want to be creative and crafty for them when they are young, and then fun and hip when they are older. But at the same time still their mama with discipline and wise Biblical words. But I know myself and my limitations. I’m not crafty. I’m definitely not hip. Not too quick at memorizing scripture either. 

But still over the next 60 years I hope I overhear my children say things like…

“My mom is so much fun.”

“My mom has the best ideas.”

“My mom is so cool.”

“My mom is the best cook.”

“My mom gives the best hugs”

“My mom has the best advice.”

“My mom is a really strong woman.”

“My mom is really close to God.”

“My mom is really in love with my dad.”

“My mom really loves me.”

I guess I can’t predict what my children will say or think about me. But I know what I’m called to do as a mother...

Something cool started this week. I’m not really a “let’s sit at the table for dinner every night” type of mama. I’m more like a “let’s sit at the table when I feel like cleaning it off” type. This week that feeling came about 3 times. But it doesn’t matter where we have dinner, we always pray before we eat. This week while we all sat closely at the table little mister wanted to pray too. I didn’t even notice that he was watching us pray. Guess he’s been watching us every night for 19 months and just now decided to join in. And when we were done he joined us with a super quiet Amen. This touched my heart like nothing else.  Just realizing more that he’s watching everything thing we do and everything we are. Gosh! Just typing that last sentence out makes me want to be the best person I could be.

I quietly shot a few iPhone pics the 2nd time he prayed with us. 

So greater than being hip and crafty I have a responsibility to teach my son about Jesus--to show him who God is, how He loves him, how to learn more about Him, how to honor Him, and ultimately how to show His love to others. Can I get an Amen!?!

And I don’t think I’ll have a problem figuring out how I’m going to teach him all of that.  I have wonderful mothers in my life who have taught me so much and continue to teach me every day. And I know they will be by my side as Mitchell and I raise our children. Amen!

So I figured it out by the end of the day what the extra pep was all about. It wasn’t about me or my amazing time as a mother—short as may be. It was about all the great moms I have in my life and celebrating them. It was the excitement of watching them open gifts and smother my baby with sweet kisses. It was the anticipation of celebrating motherhood with my sister as she is just about to embark on the greatest journey of her life.  

And it was about that sweet moment I hugged my healthy, cancer-free mom and told her, “I’m just now starting to understand how much you love me.” 

Amen

Some pictures from Mother's day at Aunt Mema's house. (Bummed I didn't get out the camera at Grandma & Papa Cochran's--next time!)

All About Booty

Ever since I clicked that magical little button that made my blog visible to all I couldn’t help but wonder, what will I blog about next?  About an hour into my busy day and I knew what I had to share—booty! The tushy, rump, cakes, buns—you can call it whatever you like but in our home it’s all about booty.

I can’t help myself with Aedan’s booty. When I was pregnant I dreamed of the day I could squeeze it, kiss it, pinch it, nibble it, and dip it in BBQ sauce. And yes, I’ve done it all and more! But it’s not just his booty that gets a lot of attention around here.

Our little mister is very observant. He will watch all you do and mimic all you do. So when Daddy slaps Mommy’s booty, well then he wants to do it too. (Of course, it doesn't help when Daddy encourages him to do so.) A mama can't even load the dishwasher without getting her booty slapped! And in the beginning it was super cute. I’d give his booty a squeeze and then it was his turn. And I melt every time I hear his tiny little voice say the word booty. But after a full day of booty talking, booty slappin' and booty squeezin', I had to ask myself, what kind of booty monster are we creating? I can just hear in my head how the parent-teacher conference would go a few years from now--Aedan slapped whose booty?!?!

And if you think I’m over exaggerating about little mister’s booty obsession, then you should’ve seen what happened just this past Sunday. Nikki, my mom and I went to Valencia to do a little shopping while the guys saw a movie at the IMAX. Just as we were leaving the Baby Gap I spotted a great big carousel in the middle of the mall. I shouted to Aedan as I ran ahead, “Come on mister! Let’s ride the carousel!” He ran toward me in his adorable little trot and not caring about the carousel at all he called out Booty! and gave me a big slap. Nikki couldn’t believe what he just did—my 19 month old just slapped my butt in the middle of the shopping mall.   

Soon enough we’ll have to stop the booty slapping for fear of letters home from the teacher, but until then it’s all about booty because honestly I just can’t help myself. How can tell him to not pinch, squeeze, or slap booties when I’m constantly doing it to him? I can’t. 

So let this post be your warning. If you’re around Aedan and accidentally drop your pen, then you just might get a booty slap.