Useful

Gavin was home sick from school yesterday.  Which was frustrating, since we pay so much for day care and they are so quick to send kids home.  I get it: germs.  No mom wants their kids getting sick from the snotty kid at school.  Well, so far I am two for two - my kids are the snotty kids.  And I swear, they are hardly ever actually sick!  I blame over-active adenoids.  At any rate, Gavin was home and I was home with him.  Using leave I don't have.  I emailed my boss first thing:

I'm sure I'll completely waste the day doing nothing useful, but I'm home with Gavin. I'll check email if anything comes up.

A day doing nothing useful.  But what is useful?  Cleaning, folding laundry, pushing a vacuum?  Finding a better home for the towels than the guest room floor?  Ironing?  Decorating the house for fall?  I could have done all of those things and more.  I could have mopped, washed windows, weeded the "garden."  I could have been so very useful.

Instead, I snuggled with my little buddy in bed.  I played peekaboo and patty cake till my sides hurt from laughing with happy little Gavin.  I rolled on the (unvacuumed) floor, to give Gavin a good role model for tummy time.  I sang silly songs.  I rocked to my child sleep.  I spent my day as a mom, and nothing more.  Not a friend, wife, coworker, house manager.  Just a mom.

So did I do anything useful yesterday?  I think I did a whole lot of useful. 

Pouring my heart out.

Girl Dad

Nate and Laura were up early Saturday morning, sitting on the porch with the windows thrown wide open so they could hear the music playing through the TV as they watched the world go by.

Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody came pouring through the speakers, inviting a father to dance with his daughter.  Their peals of laughter (and terrible singing) brought me downstairs.  I quietly watched from the doorway, and twirled Laura and tossed her in the air.

[caption id="attachment_1738" align="aligncenter" width="224"] Twirling at the farm stand on Saturday[/caption]

Hours later, with both children in bed and a bottle of wine open on the coffee table, Nate opened his heart about this morning.

I didn't think I would like being a girl dad so much.  There's just something I could never have anticipated about it. 

And yet here we both are, drowning in tutus and PRINCESS and tiaras and necklaces and dolls and tea parties.

We were dancing this morning and it hit me all of a sudden: this could be it.  This could be the song Laura and I dance to at her wedding.  There isn't much time left.

In an odd way, he's right: there isn't much time left.  Laura is forming the memories that will shape her and her relationships right now.  When Laura is all grown up, what will she remember from childhood.  What will she think when she hears certain songs?  Will she remember one sunny morning, dancing  to Whitney Houston on the front porch with her daddy?  I hope so.

[caption id="attachment_1739" align="aligncenter" width="224"] Dancing in the street on a Friday night[/caption]

The Potty

Like everyone else on the internet, it seems, we are in the midst of potty training.  I read a good number of blogs.  Like a lot of them.  Maybe I just focus my reader on moms with kids the same age as mine, but wow are there a lot of potty training posts out there right now!

So here's mine.  Potty training is happening.  We've had a lot of frustration.  A lot of tears (mostly mine).  A few occasions where I thought potty training might kill me - and it might yet do just that. 

Last week, we were nearing the end of our stash of "Tiggers," the Huggies slip-on diapers we have favored for a while.  They slip on!  Like undies!  But have the full absorbency of regular diapers!  And I can get a bajillion of them for way less than any brand of pull-ups!

But I think perhaps the full absorbency was detracting Laura from actually going on the potty.  Sure, they did slip on and off, in the event that she decided to try on the potty.  But if she had an accident, she didn't feel anything different than normal.  And even though they slipped on and off, in the end Laura knew they were still a diaper for little girls.

I had tried cloth trainers a few times.  But that's what nearly killed me.  Washing poop out of that thick, incredibly absorbent cloth.  DIE.  Additionally, we tried those a few weeks ago.  And when you are a toddler, a few weeks can make a helluva difference.

So we were running low on Tiggers.  I hopped on the internet and found a great deal on a case of Princess Pull-ups - the kind that get uncomfortably cold when soiled.  Sold.  They arrived at home and Laura was in raptures over the Pink! and Princess! and BIG GIRL-ness of them.  We spent the weekend in both Princesses and Tiggers.  When Laura peed on the potty, she earned a Princess.  When she had an accident, she was back in a Tigger.  The incentive was strong. 

So I took the next step at school on Monday.  Laura did really well peeing on the potty all weekend!  She'll need lots of reminders, but please put her on the potty!  I let her wear a princess pull-ups and everything.  One accident.

Another good day Tuesday.  On Wednesday (yesterday), Laura woke up with a dry diaper.  She declared, "I keep my diaper dry all night because I wanted to keep it dry.  I am big girl and big girls keep their diapers dry!"  So after school yesterday I let Laura pick out some big girl undies (Princess, of course) at the store.  She's been in the princess undies all day with no accidents.

Wait.  It's better than no accidents.  Laura has kept her undies dry and clean.  Laura pooped on the potty today.  I couldn't be prouder.

Do we have a completely potty trained toddler?  I doubt it.  Are we free from accidents?  Probably not.  But we are well on our way.  I'm pretty ready to swear by those Princess pull-ups.  Maybe they are the greatest invention on earth... maybe the timing was just right.  Probably the latter, but a little PRINCESS! incentive never hurt anyone either!

And just so the internet karma doesn't try to bite me in the butt, I'm sure we'll continue to have good days and bad days in the weeks and months to come.  But I'm crossing my fingers and knocking on wood that the case of Princess pull-ups will be the only case I need to buy. 

Dear Self: please read this when attempting to potty train Gavin or any other future children and remember the afternoon you sat crying on the bathroom floor, because you just couldn't rinse out one.more.pair of trainers.

Princess Laura

I'm not sure exactly when it happened; when my house turned into ALL THE PRINCESS!  It must have started off slowly.  We introduced Laura to a few Disney Classics.  Beauty and the Beast.  Cinderella.  The Little Mermaid.  Laura loved the movies.  Loved reading her princess books.  But nothing much more.

Then we started seeing the tutus creep in.  Every few days, a tutu on after school.  A magic wand.  An abracadabra.  It was still a slow progression.  Still manageable.  We could still get Laura to wear other clothing, speak of other topics, play other games.  But suddenly - seemingly overnight - a little bit of princess was not enough.   

I'd like to blame the Nanny (grandma) who watches her two days a week.  I'd like to blame the three days Laura spent with two other little princesses girls while day care was closed.  But really, I have no one to blame but myself. 

For I, too, am a princess.  You might not be able to see my tiara, but it's there hiding underneath my conservative hair.  You might not be able to see my tutu, but it's there hiding underneath my Loft skinny jeans.  You definitely can see my princess shoes - they are shiny silver with rhinestones.  But even they are disguised in a modest ballet flat.

[caption id="attachment_1719" align="alignnone" width="224"] Note the shoes![/caption]

Laura is less subtle.  She wears her tiara (and beads) whenever we are home or in the car, taking the tiara off only for school.  Laura wears her tutu over her shorts, under her jammies, outside, inside, at the grocery store, at the playground, with sneakers, barefoot, whenever, wherever.  And her princess shoes?  Well, you can spot Laura wearing my silver flats whenever she can wrangle them from my princess feet.

[caption id="attachment_1720" align="alignnone" width="224"] While playing soccer[/caption]

Laura had a tantrum last night when we forced her to take off the party dress (and tutu underneath) that she put on after school in order to put on pajamas. 
How can I be a pwincess without my pwetty dress on!
I snuggled her onto my lap and hugged her.  I've felt exactly the same, only too recently. 

[caption id="attachment_1721" align="alignnone" width="224"] Just before jammie time[/caption]

Laura, you are always a princess.  You will akways be a princess.  No matter the clothes you wear, the style of your hair, the house you live in.  All little girls are princesses.  Always.  And even princesses have to take off their tiaras every now and then.  Laura, you are my princess.  Never stop being a princess.

Pouring my heart out