a lot can happen in 3 years...

a lot can happen in three years. for example, a boy can finish kindergarten, first and second grade and begin third grade.

a mom and a dad can realize many of their boy's . . . quirks . . . are actually signposts. clues that something is not Normal.

hubs and i knew timmy was Unique right from the beginning. seriously. we called tiny baby timmy "the observer" because he, well, observed. he was . . . separate. above it all. not really a part of the world around him, but taking it all in. the non-human parts, anyway.

today, he loves to hear the story of his First Communication. it goes like this: we were outside sitting on the lawn swing. he was wearing a denim jacket and a stocking cap because the air was fall-crisp. i left him sitting alone on the swing while i stood in front of him to take his picture. his face held no expression. his eyes looked ahead, a little to my left, and he lifted his right arm straight into the air and pointed to the sky with his index finger and held that position.

i said, "are you showing mommy the beautiful blue sky?" he remained still. "do you see that white cloud floating in the sky?" statue. "do you see the red and gold and brown leaves of the tree?" (he loved leaves. and sticks. during our daily walks, he would often hold a stick or a leaf while watching the world from the comfort of his stroller.) no reaction. "is there an airplane flying high in the sky?" nada. just the unfocused gaze and the unmoving point.

then, as i ran out of guesses, a cardinal's song seeped into my consciousness from somewhere above us in the elm tree. "bird? do you hear a pretty bird singing a wonderful song to us?" and i was rewarded with what we later called (and still do) a Secret Smile. (think mona lisa.) "the bird is singing a beautiful song to mommy and timmy! the bird sings pretty-pretty-pretty! chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp." a subtle pleased look about the eyes - we later named the expression Smiley Eyes.

my boy observed a cardinal singing his song. he enjoyed it and he shared it with me. birds! timmy liked birds! 

we bought two bird feeders and hung them outside each of his bedroom windows. we watched Mr. and Mrs. Yellow (finches), Mr. and Mrs. Red (also finches) and Mr. and Mrs. Chickadee (several sets of each, actually) for years. we loved to see patient Mrs. Cardinal and Mr. Cardinal with his sassy hairdo.  we enjoyed the scolding squirrels' antics as they tried to share in the birdseed feast. we tried a hummingbird feeder for years, but we only attracted ants. 

and we communicated. we rocked in the rocking chair beside the window as i described each bird. "that bird is yellow! that yellow bird is a finch! can you say 'finch?'" Smiley Eyes. 

"see how Mr. Finch is quite yellow, while Mrs. Finch has just a tiny bit of yellowish brown on her chest?" point. 

"see Mr. Red? he is pecking at Mr. Yellow because he wants the bird feeder all to himself. Mr. Red and Mr. Yellow are arguing because they don't want to share the birdseed. silly birds!" Secret Smile.

and, you know, there were other signs. but i am exhausted. emotionally drained and physically tired, too. this morning i was much less than the picture of perfect, patient parenting. and i have a lot of work to do, so i'll reminisce more tomorrow. or in three more years.

my baby is not a baby anymore

thirteen hours, thirty-five minutes. that's all the time i have left until my baby is a kindergartener. ack! how did this happen? how did the past five years fly by so quickly?

i am weirdly ok right now. numb. but i feel hysteria rising from deep within.

that is all.

picnic tables!

so, i loves me some knock off wood. love! i've built several items, and have many more on my to do list.

most of the kids in our families seem to have been born in the summer months, so . . . kid-sized picnic tables were our gift of choice this year. well, those and magician/superhero capes and tutus.

but i digress. i made picnic tables. lots of them. (with a few modifications to the plans.) and timmy helped me.

i loved building them. ana really makes the plans so easy to follow. more like recipes than building plans. they were so sturdy! i filled my screw holes, sanded well, and put a lot of work into the painting. i cut and assembled the first two at the same time and then primed and painted them - a pain in the hiney!

after those first two, i cut, primed and painted the individual pieces, then assembled and touched up. took as much time - maybe even a little more - but it was way easier than trying to reach and get good coverage on all the undersides, in betweens and tight angles.

i have built nothing in weeks - these 100+ degree temps suck every bit of energy right out of me! i have two more picnic tables to build, then i'm on to timmy's headboard. then? who knows!

my four year old child has an alias?

we ate dinner at pizza hut last night, along with a large gathering of biker folk. tim knew several of the bikers. not from arresting them or anything; just knew them from around, you know?

timmy was getting restless and wiggling around, acting up a bit, so tim pointed to one biker and asked, "do you want me to have that guy over there come and give you a talking to?" i gave him the most evil dirty look, so he changed it up a bit and asked, "would you like me to introduce you to that gentleman over there? mr. presnall?"

well, timmy is no fool. he got very still and answered, "i will tell him my name is shep o'brien."

am i bewildered that my just-turned-four child has already developed an alias, or am i proud of his sweet mad self-preservation skillz?

look out, johnny cash!

little timothy loves music. always has. other than his sleepie-time music (classical pieces we listen to while getting ready for bed) and his toddler tunes, timmy loves country music. george strait? yup. waylon jennings? absolutely. johnny cash? of course - you kidding me?!

but add waylon to johnny, and throw in some willie nelson and kris kristofferson? oh, boy. we are treated to this particular performance again. and again. and again. and again.

i'm no great cinematographer - the lighting in my bathroom is abysmal, the focus is . . . inconsistent and the fact that timmy's sitting on the potty seat? well, i hope it doesn't offend, but let's face it: this is my real life.

february 2009 twelve of twelve!

wow! february already! and it's half over. i have got to get my new email address to susan keuter so i'll get the 12-of-12 email reminders again. yep, i'm blaming susan for my memory loss. fortunately, i think i made up for my shortcomings by recreating certain parts of our day.

i wish i'd printed the title in a darker pink rather than red. but, i was rushing.

timmy was begging me to go to his room to listen to highwayman for the 100th, 101st, 102nd and 103rd time today. he likes to manipulate his cd to listen to a favorite song "again. and again. and again. and again..." did you know "many a maiden lost her marbles to my train"? it's true. timmy sang it to me.

the man in black

timmy: "mommy, when will i go to heaven?"
mommy: "when you're a very, very old man and you die; then you'll go to heaven."
timmy: "oh."

and yesterday: "mommy, when ethan hits me, it makes me sick, you know. and if he hits me too much, i will just throw him away. i will throw him in the landfill. and then i will tell the digger to come and get him. and the digger will take him home. and he will learn his lesson."

so much to say . . .

well, this blog certainly isn't doing its job of recording all my memories. stinkin' blog. when will they come up with one that just pulls the data out of my mind and updates itself daily? that's the blog i want!

today is october 12th, which of course is twelve-of-twelve day! i remembered yesterday. and forgot by this morning. but i recovered quickly when i saw susan's email. so i'm taking pictures of my life today. my boring, house-is-not-tidy life.

also, i plan to work on my week 2 layouts for cz's design your life class. i finally finished week 1 the other day. this first one is a 12x12.

and this 8.5x11 2-page spread (and not a very good scan).

i am so insanely proud of myself! for actually finishing the first assignments, yes, but also for my newly developed ability to put all my worries and obsessiveness aside and just do it! it always takes me forever to come up with any idea and then i obsess about it and about the paper and everything else until it's just torture. not this time, baby! i am going to jump right in every week. the topics of my assignment pages almost don't matter to me. i do not need the "perfect" topic. i'm learning about design. my pages will slowly but surely become more perfect as i go along.

in other news . . . preschool. ugh. timmy is engaged in a battle over who rules timmy. thursday when i went to pick him and ethan up, i passed ms. brenae, our classroom helper, who said timmy politely told ms. abby (another helper), "i will not cooperate with you." (big sigh) as it turns out, he did eventually do what ms. abby wanted him to do. but only after he'd made it clear he was doing it on his terms. (heaving another big sigh)

oh! the weather has been so nice here lately that the boys and i drive with our windows down - especially when we go past the several blocks of street construction on the way to wal mart. they love to see which piece of equipment is working and which workers might be taking a break at that moment. aaaaaaanyway, the other day we were driving along with the windows down. timmy rested his foot up on the door's armrest and said sweetly, "look, mommy, i'm just like you - one of my leg whiskers is blowing in the wind!" God love him.

expanding vocabulary

timmy's new favorite word?

boudoir.

no kidding. it's true. "boodWAH! boodWAH!"

thank you, cash cab.

coffee break

friday was errands day. we went to the library. returned some books, checked out some books. (i am currently in love with llama llama mad at mama. also, i am so excited that we'll be getting scholastic book order forms from preschool each month. i miss them! when looking over our first one, which we received on "meet the teacher" day, i immediately noticed llama llama and his little pouty lip. so, i was glad to see the library had a copy.)

and, as always, timmy is in love with the little plastic coffee service at the table in the children's library. we sat and had a cup o' joe or two before we left and when it was time to go, timmy asked me so sincerely why he doesn't have a coffee pot at home. since wal mart was our next stop, i decided we'd look for one.

i know it exists because the library has one, but i could not find a regular, plain ol' plastic coffee/tea pot and cups! however, we did find one blue one amid the mountains of pink. it was a cinderella tea service. timmy fell instantly in love. so we bought it. and timmy interrupted his important work as a police officer, a firefighter, an ice road trucker and a dishwasher to have many relaxing coffee breaks, complete with plastic chocolate chip cookies and "dog food" (pecans, walnuts & raisins) in his "dog dish" (a plastic gold-panning pan). and he always made some for me, too. quite the gentleman, that boy.

please note the camouflage shorts, rifle, wal mart smiley-face sticker and look of satisfaction.

tim did not instantly fall in love. in fact, he offered to return it to wal mart while timmy napped and find a camping coffee pot and cups instead. he smugly asked timmy's opinion: did he want this cinderella coffee pot . . . or a camping coffee pot and camping mugs just. like. daddy's? timmy chose cinderella. no hesitation. poor tim. but the rifle's gotta count for something, right?

pre-formal education angst

two days from now is the official "meet the teacher" day at timmy's new preschool. yikes! we've already met his teacher, miss brooke, earlier in the summer, but this official meeting marks the end of his toddlerhood and the beginning of his preschoolhood (is that a word?)

i haven't even gotten over the end of his babyhood yet and now he's starting his formal education. look at him - does he look like he should be leaving his mommy for 3 hours twice a week already?  

well, after he helped me make bierocks sunday, i admit i may have been ready for 3 hours of timmylessness. but only so i could clean my kitchen. i swear!

note: my sister-in-law, taryn, is to blame for the end of my baby's toddlerhood. my 4yo nephew, ethan, needs preschool this year so he'll be ready for kindergarten next year. oh, he's smart as a whip and already knows a lot of things, but he has trouble with transitions. and since our school district just went to all-day kindergarten (don't even get me started on that mess!), he really needs the help . . . but, back to the  point: stinkin' taryn! since ethan stays with me while his mom and dad are working . . . well, it didn't seem fair to take ethan to preschool and not let timmy go, too. stinkin' taryn.

i've had this undefined dread about preschool for a couple months now. even as i type this, it's not yet defined (although my hope is it will be by post's end). i am not so much worried about him being away from me for the first time (except for 3 days of vbs this summer, during which he did just fine) because he is not a clingy, needy boy. i am sad for me, of course, but that's not it, either. he is polite and respectful and he gets along well with other children, but he's not timid, so i'm not worried he be a bully or be bullied. 

no, i think it's . . . i'm worried about whether he will learn there. he's done just fine here at home with me. he knows, by sight and verbally, all the letters of the alphabet and all the sounds each letter makes. he can identify which letter "makes the beginning/middle/ending sound" of most words. we accomplished this through playing with foam bathtub letters and just talking about words and letters throughout the normal course of our day. we learn about animals and airplanes and money and books and history and . . . we just learn. as we go about our regular activities, while we're in the car. that's how kids learn at home, right?

but this preschool . . . it seems a little . . . weird. i wouldn't have chosen it (stinkin' taryn). the parents' manual doesn't mention much about regular school-type topics. they don't do worksheets. they don't practice writing or cutting paper with scissors. instead, there is a lot of information about avoiding gender stereotyping and about "cultural inclusiveness" and self-esteem. is this what school is about now? if not, why is this what preschool is about?

i want timmy to learn to read and write. i want him to learn proper grammar. and math. and history. government. literature. science. critical thinking skills. maybe a foreign language or two. you know. the things i learned in school and the things that will help him succeed in college and adult life. self-esteem, et al? let us handle that at home.

i swear, if i had more than one child at home now, i would seriously consider homeschooling. our neighbors when andrew and tori were little homeschooled their kids and they turned out well-educated, well-mannered and well-adjusted.

but, all this (admittedly, self-created) drama may turn out to be no big deal. because timmy's birthday is in february, he won't be eligible for kindergarten for two more years. next year, when ethan is already in kindergarten and timmy's good and crunchy (i picture the preschool administration wearing birkenstocks and pookah shell necklaces - i sure hope that is just my imagination!), i can send timmy to a more traditional preschool. but at least i feel better now that i've droned on and on about my worries. thank you, bloggy-blog!

designing my life

i signed up for cathy zielske's design your life class at big picture scrapbooking! i'm nervous and excited. i'm alternately filled with doubt and squealing with anticipation.

when cz first announced the class, i really, really wanted to do it. but then i talked myself out of it. the money. the commitment. my lack of scrap-esteem. and then i just forgot all about it. until my sista-girl moon asked if i was taking the class.

tim's all for the class, especially since i don't have to go anywhere to take it. back when i was still a full-time wage earner and working so much my family rarely caught sight of me, it was tim who requested i get a hobby in the hopes i'd gain some balance. now . . . if i had my old paycheck, i might be as obsessed with my hobby as i once was with my work, lol!

but, speaking of my current obsessions . . . i've got to record this little timmy story before i forget:

over this summer, we've developed a new habit. maybe not a great one, but a fun one. we eat dinner on our bed while watching "ice road truckers" on the history channel. last week, tim bought timmy some "ice road ice cream dots" for dessert. last night tim was working and timmy and i had bierocks. but i digress.

timmy asked me yesterday while we were eating, "are you married to daddy?" i acknowledged it and he said, "i want to marry you, too." i know every little boy wants to marry his mommy at about this age, but it still melted my heart. ah, i love that little guy!

mah bay-bee is growing up!

we visited preschool today. (sob)

timmy poopied in his potty seat of his own free will yesterday evening, with no prompting from us. even though we have a "meet the teacher" group scheduled august 21st, we called to ask if we could drop in today as a reward for such wonderful big boy behavior.

we arrived and were escorted to miss brooke's classroom. timmy was inexplicably shy and whispered his greeting. then he noticed the sink. a kitchen-style sink at his height. with a magic faucet (just waive your hand beneath and the water comes on). he asked, "may i please wash my hands?" he found no bar soap, so miss brooke talked him through the pump and the magic faucet and the paper towel dispenser and the waste bin.

miss brooke also introduced him to the class caterpillar. whom timmy poked and almost squished. out of love, though. love; not malice.

then timmy noticed the bin of dinosaurs.

and the bin of tinker toys.

and the bin of cars.

and the reading area, where i read a book about emergency vehicles to him (but skipped four of every five pages, b/c that was one long book!) and miss brooke promised to read "chicka chicka boom boom" (a very fun book) at the "meet the teacher" event.

timmy was well-behaved even though he wanted to see it all and do it all. i was proud of him.

but my baby! (sob) he's growing up! (sob) i'm not ready! (sob)

i suppose it's a good thing he'll have these two mornings a week for two years before kindergarted, eh?

the wilds of my back yard

as usual, we're spending the morning in our back yard. we wake up, we eat breakfast, we get dressed. or not. today he preferred to play with no undies - just an undershirt. since it's my own back yard and my neighbors (both sides and the back yard neighbor) are all non-weirdo women, i say "nakie? ok. why not?" so, we go out. we swing, timmy chases louie, ike chases timmy and louie, rosie lounges on the shelf beneath the barbeque grill. we have a wonderful, peaceful time in our back yard until it's time for lunch and nap. then we do it all again in the afternoon. (see? it's not my fault the dishes from last night are unwashed and the family room is unvacuumed.)

something i most enjoy about being out here? the bird songs, the rustling of the leaves overhead, the squirrel chatter. something i don't enjoy? about a week ago, louie realized his life's dream and caught a squirrel. they sit on the tree branches or roof top scolding the doggies and laughing their furry little butts off as the doggies are jumping and screaming and unable to come near them.  i guess the fat little terrorist wasn't paying attention, b/c louie crept up on him and snatched the hairs right off his tail. (squirrels are not nearly as cute with no tail hair - they look like huge mice. i'll never look at another squirrel the same again.) tim came out and made louie let him go, but he may have been injured b/c the next morning as i'm reading in my lounge chair, i saw louie proudly prancing to and fro with a tail-hairless squirrel in his mouth. i'm sure i woke up every day-sleeper in the city as i screamed for tim to come out and take care of it.

aaaaaaaanyway, in the early morning or late afternoon we sometimes see our neighbor's (wild) rabbits crossing from her back yard to our back yard neighbor's back yard. they are not disturbed in the least by louie's and rosie's scream-barking fits. they know there is a fence between them.

one little guy this morning, however? not so lucky. no fence. timmy first noticed louie's strange bark - i was gazing up through the leaves of a maple tree to the teeny bits of blue sky above, so the bark didn't quite enter my consciousness. after running to the patio to investigate, he called me over to see the surprise louie and rosie found.

a toad! a scared and peeing toad. i am sad to say louie and rosie flitted to and fro on the patio, dodging and dancing around the toad like mohammed ali, striking with lightening speed to him (her?) up the toad in their mouths and toss him into the air.

now, i have no desire at any time to pick up a toad. but i couldn't just let louie and rosie play with him until he expired, could i? so, i grabbed timmy's john deere hat to scoop him up without the doggies knowing what i'd done and carried him to the sand box. where he'd be safe. but not unbothered.

see how he's just covered in sand? yeah. timmy poured sand onto him. many times. and it stuck - maybe because of all that pee or dog slobber? he hopped away from the sand box several times (see the blue aquarium-like glow in the second picture? that's the morning sun shining through our kiddie pool.) but i dutifully carried him back. (shudder. i deserve a medal.)

timmy eventually got bored with the toad, but you know, the whole time he was being bothered first by the doggies and then by timmy, he seemed remarkably calm. except for the peeing thing. but i tend to have to go when i'm nervous, too, so who am i to judge.

peepee in the pot-TAY!

peepee in the pot-TAY! (say that like the bunny hop: "bump-ba, bump-ba, bump! BA!")

we've had no peepee problems here for weeks. timmy uses the potty seat with no intervention from me. he went to vacation Bible school last week. no peepee problems. he did not "go" while at vbs. no, he saved it all until he got home, each day calling out, "mommy! can you hear my peepees? it's a lot! it's making bubbles!" (now, that IS a lot of peepees!)

see the picture below? i took this right after vbs, before he had a chance to go peepee. see how proud he is of the handsome necklace he made? proud, yes, but i think i also see a hint of "good lord, woman - my bladder is SO full!"

timmy has never used a public restroom. firm refusal. slight hysteria at the mere suggestion. so i normally load up the potty seat into the cargo area when we go somewhere. but i didn't today when we went to mcdonald's playplace. just forgot. i noticed him dancing a bit, but he said he didn't need to "go." soon, he was dancing and "pinching." i knew he couldn't hold it much longer.

i snatched him up after grabbing a french fry off the floor. (i know that's gross, but stick with me here.) i threw the french fry into the toilet, stood him on the seat (thank goodness he still had his shoes on!) and told him to pee on that silly french fry. eureka! our very first public peepee!

ah, it's times like this that buoy my spirit and encourage me to keep at the poopoo training.

i spit on your plans!

spitting is gross. disgusting. abhorent. and my boy does it.

so does my husband. as part of a horrible habit called "chewing." yuck. the mere thought turns my stomach.

but timmy. he spits when angry. he spits when he doesn't want to do what he's been asked/told to do. he spits when he's put in the time-out chair. he spits. he spits!

nothing has worked to stop it, although we've been trying for months, since before any actual spittle was projected. back when, try as he might, he could only produce the sound without the spray. i tried googling "how to stop toddler spitting." hah! worthless! "try to understand that your toddler has a limited vocabulary and may be spitting to communicate his frustration." what drivel. no pun intended.

timmy's verbal skills are quite advanced. for example, as he readies himself to spit, he may say something very like, "mommy, i prefer to play outside. i do not want to come in the house. i decide to stay outside! *spit!*" of course, there are days timmy prefers efficiency and simply shouts, "No! *spit!*" so, no. he does not spit as his only way to express himself. he spits as an additional and unacceptable way to express himself.

time-outs do not work. not only does he frequently spit on the way to time-out for some other unrelated offense, but he spits when time-out is over and then when it's over again. marathon time-outs. time-out-o-rama. timmy was like a spitting junkie, unable to resist the filthy urge, even though the cost was pretty stinkin' high, in toddler terms.

vicki suggested vinegar on his tongue each time he spit. nope, he'd like that. dish soap, too. and lemon juice. her final suggestion: hot sauce. i just couldn't do it. even if it were effective, and i could force myself to squirt a drop of chalula on his tongue once, i know i could never consistently do it for the week or so it takes for me to win any battle of the wills.

my mom's idea? throw a small amount of very cold water in his face when he spits. then go about my usual business with no more attention to the matter. well, i was willing to try anything to both stop the spitting and avoid the hot sauce remedy.

saturday. d-day. when the need for time-out presented, i first poured some water (maybe two tablespoons?) from the fridge into a cup and sat it down around the corner from timmy and the offense. as i held his hand and began walking toward the time-out chair, he launched a loogie. i quickly reached around the corner for the cup and tossed the water into his face, stating, "you may not spit." he gasped and stared. i placed him on the time-out chair and walked away.

he later told tori on the phone, "i spit at mommy and she put water on my face." tori, having been apprised of the plan the night before, simply said, "oh, i bet you didn't like that much, did you," and then changed the subject.

the whole weekend? maybe five water-splashes. so far today? one. and just 3 1/2 hours until bedtime.

do i smell succeeeeeeesssssss?

the conversational stylings of the 3-year-old

i'm mildly upset that i keep forgetting to write some of the funny things timmy says into my journal. and then i forget altogether. yet every time, i think this time i will remember. and i don't.

yesterday was a veritable treasure trove of humorous toddler talk.

1. timmy's "sleepie-time undies" (pull-ups) were moist when i retrieved him from his bed after nappie. he oh-so-patiently-and-tolerantly explained, "that's ok, mommy. sometimes these things happen when we nap." (kids always, always mimic their parents' speech. i like it when he mimics my patient moments much better than when he mimics me heaving a big sigh.)

i launched into my usual "timmy, when you feel peepees coming, what do you do?" which should have been enthusiastically answered with, "i say, 'peepees are coming!' and then i put them in the potty seat!'" but instead i hear, "i say, 'God? please change my undies. aaayyy-men.'"

2. our electricity was out for hours and hours yesterday. inexplicably, before the bad weather hit! we were set to make pizzas for supper, but the dough just kept a-risin' and a-risin' and no electricity with which to heat the oven. we hungered. oh, how we hungered.

timmy pathetically whimpered, "i'm sick. i don't feel well. i have a tummy-egg." not sure i heard right, i asked, "what, my honey? are you starving?" to which he replied, "yes. i am starving so i have a tummy-egg." i love it! so, off to burger king we went.

3. vicki went with us to burger king. burger king is just outside walmart's parking lot. i'd taken timmy and ethan to walmart that morning, where we spotted a container of donut holes. timmy had no idea what they were, of course, but ethan knew! i thought why not. i bought some and we ate them at snacktime.

all this is background to say - as we waited in the burger king drive-thru lane, seeing wal mart reminded timmy of the morning's snack and he told aunt vicki, "we ate donut heads for snackie this morning! i love donut heads!"

summer is here!

the waterpark opened yesterday. when the water park opens, it means "summer time!" timmy has been waiting weeks - an eternity for a three year old.

after a delicious ham dinner at mom's, we and tom, taryn & ethan, went to the water park. it is a little teensy slab of concrete with a few water spraying devices, but it's absolutely perfect for little guys like timmy and ethan.

we are the champions!

weeeee are the chaaaaaampions! of the (potty training) woooorrrld! (sing this like queen)

the drugging worked! today, i saw the largest . . . umm, never mind. all you need to know is timmy was successful.

he called everyone he could think of to celebrate. we drove directly to the video store to rent blue's big musical movie. we ate happy meals in the family room while watching said musical extravaganza.

and then he peepeed in his undies. and in the time-out chair. no, he did not go to time-out for anything potty related. what kind of monster do you think i am? no, time-out occurred following regular three-year-old time-out inducing behavior. he earned several time-outs throughout the day and each time he peepeed in the time-out chair. i need to think of a strategy for this one.

an excerpt from his bedtime prayer tonight: "dear God, thank you for this wonderful day. thank you for making all the birdies and their beautiful songs. and thank you for my big big poopie today!"

today i drugged my child (or, the all-potty-all-the-time blog)

well, maybe not drugged, exactly. let me back up a bit.

the peepee bidness may be on the upswing, thanks to my friend susan's suggestion of nakie-ness. how does this work? well, timmy loves to play outside, but going outside requires undies. we won't have any undies to wear if we keep putting peepees in our undies. wham! connections made in his little-guy brain! (this theory is still in the testing phase.)

you see, timmy can control his bladder function. he has simply chosen to keep his peepees out of the potty seat. i know this because he kept his undies clean and dry (and used the potty seat) all afternoon and evening yesterday at dinner out and then playing at chuck e. cheese's. he was wholly motivated, as i'd clearly let him know if he at any time put his peepees in his undies, rather than in the potty seat, we would immediately return home.

this morning, though. (big sigh) no outrageous fun planned, so no potty seat motivation. until the great nakie-ness of 2008 began. it worked today, and we'll continue tomorrow and beyond, as long as necessary.

but a boy cannot survive without the whole potty package. that is - and please excuse my indelicacy here - poopies are necessary! we haven't had little guy poopies here since friday. six days! i've sneaked (snuck? no, i think sneaked) finely chopped prunes into his oatmeal every morning without result.

timmy's pediatrician is not worried, unlike timmy's mommy and daddy. she suggested miralax at 1/4 adult dosage. so, during dinner tonight, i offered timmy some of daddy's soda. note: small boys do not drink soda. small boys drink water and milk and juice. so you can imagine the enthusiasm with which timmy accepted my gracious (umm . . . guilt-ridden) offer of caffeine-free pepsi secretly laced with poopie powder.

oh, how i fervently hope drugging my child doesn't drive him to therapy in years to come.