My Potty Training Story

A new trend has begun in my house. Suddenly the twins are obsessed with what is covering their nether regions. There's the obsession with the Mickey Diapers. This started when I had to get them excited about their new diapers because we were out of "Marty" diapers-- they had zebras on them, Marty from Madagascar.

At times this would interfere with our plan to only have them wear disposables at night.

The obsession with the Mickey diaper soon transformed into an obsession of the Mickey underwear.
"Go get some underwear."

"It's not underwear, it's my Mickeys!"

Now the obsession has turned to, "I don't want diaper I want underwears!"

Can't say that I'm too disappointed in that. Except that it's only one of the twins that has taken on this obsession. The other one has become more friendly to the potty-- he realized he could get a treat if he sat on it. But one morning I grabbed the wrong twin to commence in potty training and was met with a huge fit. Needless to say, he's freaked out of the toilet so the older twin is the only one who is potty trained. And I think I can finally safely say, "Potty trained!"

I started when I had a week off from work. I gave him a little treat each time he sat on the toilet. Then when he went on the toilet he got to watch 15 minutes of a movie. We started out with him wearing no bottoms at all, and I'd put diapers on him at nap time and bed time. I was impressed. He even pooped in the toilet. Though he would ask, "Where did the poop go?" after I'd flush it.

 After two days we tried just underwear. No pants. Sometimes we'd go out, and he would have to use pants. He would usually do pretty well. Sometimes he wouldn't go while we were out, but he would pee his pants when we got home. That was frustrating! Moving from nothing to wearing underwear led to a couple accidents. I changed it from sitting on the potty every 15 minutes to every 10. We were beginning to be mildly successful. Then a trip to the doctors led to two accidents, very close together, and a little boy running around McDonalds in a diaper and a shirt.

Pants and underwear seemed not to work so well. And the diapers at nap and bed time seemed to lead to him just waiting until then to go. So we nixed the diapers at nap and bed time. Which led to bed wetting a couple times through the night. The nap was OK, however. Now we have him go to the bathroom before bed, put a pull-up on him and we all sleep peacefully through the night. He even woke up dry once.

We had some issues when he would go with Grandma. I told my mom to just take off his pants and underwear, and he would probably go in the toilet. Now he does great when we visit people. Even if I'm not there. 

I have to admit I was at a loss at times.

He'd have accidents and I would feel like a failure.

He would earn his play place trip for going on the potty, and getting all his stickers, and a few seconds after being there he would pee his pants.

He would ask to go potty, I'd rush to the nearest bathroom, he wouldn't go and then 10 minutes later he would ask again. This pattern would repeat several times until I just wanted to scream-- this only happened when we were out. I was used to kids that when you took them to the bathroom they would go, but not my little guy. He went when he was ready.

Sometimes I would get frustrated and say we were staying in the bathroom until he went. This would lead to an emotional outburst, from him and maybe a little me. These, and others, would make me worry that maybe he wasn't ready, and I had traumatized him by starting him too soon.

But all these problems slowly faded away as time went on.

*To help when we are out we carry around a little plastic toilet with us-- which is our number one toilet choice for the little one right now. This sometimes leads to a game of musical toilets.

Our only problem now is the pooping. He suddenly stopped pooping in the toilet, which is pretty normal. I offer him a diaper to poop in and he just says, "No diaper! I want underwears!"

One time I came downstairs and he had pooped his pants. He had then taken wipes and shoved them down his underwear to clean him self up. He did this when he would poop on the toilet too. I came upstairs to find a poop covered toilet, with a boy using a wad of poop covered wipes, desperately trying to clean up the mess.

"I clean up!" He would say.

It was kind of sweet, and a little disgusting :).

We're still working on the pooping thing.

Our potty training venture has led to the use of a lot of charts and stickers. At first we had a chart where he would get a smiley for sitting on the toilet, and a sticker for going potty. When he got 100 smileys he could pick a treat from the bucket. When he got 25 stickers he could go to the playplace. This has started to get confusing, so we changed it to a smiley for going potty and a sticker for a day of no accidents. Same prizes apply-- though we had to change the treat to a "big treat" because the treat bucket has become a small reward for going on the potty.

We waited till one in the morning one night for him to go to the bathroom before bed-- this was before the pull-ups idea. This was an effort to make it through the night without bed wetting. Well, unfortunately, while we were waiting he drank some of my soda, and wet the bed anyway. His refusal to go before nap and bedtime led to us giving him a treat from the bucket if he did. This led to him wanting a treat every time he went. Which led to the question, "Do you want a treat or a movie?"

 I just go with it. I figure, like the other things, it will eventually fade out. 

Last weekend we were shopping at Ikea and he wanted a train set. The train set was cheap, and I felt like I would just get it for him for doing so well on the potty. But we're poor and can't afford to pay bills, so I felt like I shouldn't spend money on something like that. We made a deal, if he could get really good at potty training-- no accidents, no pooping his pants and waking up dry-- he could earn the train. We made another chart with 100 squares. He gets a sticker each time he does one of the things I mentioned. Sadly, I think he forgot about the train.

When I started potty training I thought, "This will be a step towards things getting a little easier."

Wrong! It's almost easier to leave them in diapers. But it will be easier one day.

I also started out saying, "I won't get upset. I won't yell. I want this to be positive. I don't want it to be traumatizing and awful."

Well, that flew out the window fast. Each accident just made me want to cry. It felt like a missed opportunity for him to really get it.

 I've heard a lot of stories about how children can get really messed up if you approach potty training wrong. It made me nervous. I felt like it was a task I could never accomplish. Having done it feels wonderful! I'm so proud of him! And I'm proud of me too! Every time he goes on the toilet I still have to do a little happy dance!

That's my boy! Note the harness. Santa brought the boys these harness' with straps for when we go out. This is because they refuse to sit in the stroller. I can't say it makes things easier, but after almost loosing one of the twins, I have to say it makes things safer.

Where is My Fairytale?

I don't live in a castle with servants waiting on me hand and foot. I don't dress in pretty dresses, wear a smile and dance and sing to my children-- well at least not everyday. My husband and I get by on cloth diapers and homemade wipes. Yet still I look at my life and feel I'm the princess who found her prince.



Cheesy as it may sound. Corny as I may be. I can't help but enjoy daydreaming of waltzing with my handsome prince in a grand ballroom while an orchestra plays our song. And knowing that, at my request, this dream can come true, as long as I'm willing to substitute our fine living room for a ballroom and my old 90's style stereo as an orchestra, is just icing on the cake.



So maybe I didn't get the ideal fairytale. Perhaps to the world it doesn't seem as though I'm living the dream. But somehow all my handsome princes make me feel just like those princess' I idolized growing up.

Yes, at times I feel more like the wicked old step mother than the princess. Sometimes even a magic mirror cannot make me feel young an beautiful. Life is hard. There are times I wish I could fill out my resignation and put in my two weeks notice. But the hard times make the happy times all the better.

It's Just Being a Mom

There's ups and downs, high and lows. Sometimes you feel like you deserve a medal. Sometimes you feel like your kids should be taken away for their own good. It's all part of being mom.

My mommy experiences as of lately:

The family ran some errands last Monday, and we ended up having to stop for some lunch. We stopped at a Carls Jr in Provo- which has an awesome playplace by the way. I knew one of the twins needed a bum change so I took him to the bathroom. Well I forgot wipes, so back we went to get the wipes. The other twin followed us back to the bathroom. I took the dirty cloth diaper off and set it on the floor until I could rinse it out. I cleaned up the boy and the diaper cover, put on a fresh diaper, snapped his onesie and I was about to set him down until I noticed something funny on the floor. The other twin had stepped in the poopy diaper I had set on the floor and now there was lovely poopy shoe prints decorating the floor of the ladies room. Luckily the trail wasn't long, and I was able to wipe it up pretty quickly. Cleaning up his shoe was another story. I finally got that clean then decided to check his diaper. Well he'd been sick so he had some diarrhea and it had fried his bum and I, of course, forgot to grab some diaper cream for him. What to do? My husband was there, but he had to watch the baby so he, even if I called him, wouldn't be able to bring it to me. I'm not good at following the "don't leave your child unattended" rule. I'll take a trip to the garbage or go wash my hands while the kid lays on the table. But leaving him alone in the bathroom, bare bottomed, while I walk across the restaurant to grab some diaper cream was a little to rebellious for my taste. I had but one resource: his brother. Quickly I tried calling my husband. His phone was dead, of course. So I poked my head out the door to try and get his attention. Low and behold he was looking for me as well. Apparently he didn't know both the boys had followed me to the bathroom. Boy was he relieved! I then sent the bigger twin to him and told him to send him back with some diaper cream. I was just going to wait right outside the door for my big boy to come back, but another customer went into the restroom, so I went inside to wait with my half naked child that was awaiting his diaper change. A few minutes later I went to check on the other twin to see if he was headed my way with the cream. Well, there he was standing right outside the door with the cream in hand. Oh, it was the sweetest thing in the world! I then sent him back to his Dad, finished up with the other twin and went to join the rest of the fam for lunch. I was so proud of my big boy that day. He got just a little bigger in my eyes.



As I mentioned my little boy was sick. Well we've had our fill of sick kids around here. First it was the littler twin. We had 3-4 days of diarrhea, bum burns and vomiting. Half of it took place in the middle of the night. He finally got better, and then the next week his brother came home from a drive with Grandma and Grandpa and threw up all over the floor. "Maybe he got car sick," my parents said. I could only hope, but hope wasn't enough. He was sick. More vomiting, but less bum burn than his brother. His illness was wrapping up just as the littler twin started to get sick again. This time a lovely gagging cough. One sleepless night was full of crying and coughing every half hour. I got so fed up I took them upstairs to lie in bed with my husband and I slept on the couch. When my husband left for work I got into bed with the twins. Only something was different. The sheets had been changed. Apparently we the bigger twin had one more night of vomiting to get over. When I got into bed my little boy was coughing and gagging. It was so sad. He didn't wake up but it still broke my heart. I pulled out some vapor rub and that seemed to help relieve him.

I'm not opposed to having more children until my children get sick. Each time we add a child to the family it's one more sick child we have to deal with. At least illness' don't last forever. I just wish that they all could get sick at the same time so we could just get it over with. Why does it have to be one each week. I just keep praying that the baby doesn't end up sick now.

My husband and I just celebrated our 3rd anniversary. It feels like we've been married forever. I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean that we just seem mature as a couple- not as individuals :). My parents are out of town and we couldn't get a babysitter, so we celebrated with the children. The screaming, crying, pooping children. My big boy woke up hysterical from his nap. He had pooped and it was still kind of in the diarrhea stage. It had ran all down his leg and he was very upset. I was cleaning him up and he was hitting me because he was so upset. It's one of the ways he throws a tantrum. I just tell him to fold his arms and use his words and one of those words has to be "Sorry". If it gets really bad I stick up in time out- though that wasn't an option at this particular time. I got him all cleaned up and then the littler twin wondered upstairs bawling for some reason. I stuck them both in the bath, and went to attend to the baby who was now crying- he'd been left alone for too long. Now, I'd have to hold the baby or listen to him cry hysterically. Once he gets past a certain point of the "I've been neglected" cry there is no going back. Eventually we just had to put him in his room to cry until it was dinner time. I was hoping my husband could offer some helping hands with getting our anniversary dinner on the table, but he had to attend to the crying children. Despite all this, I did manage to get dinner on the nicely set table. The kids even calmed down and we sat down to enjoy our delicious food. My husband poured the Martinelli's and passed the Alfredo. As I reached for the pasta I knocked my glass, full of sparkling cider, right into the Alfredo sauce. A small part of me wanted to laugh. A bigger part of me wanted to cry. Neither one won. I was so worried that sauce was ruined. I sprinkled in some Parmesan cheese, and all was well. The apple cider gave it a nice subtle sweet after taste. The night was rather enjoyable. I just have to laugh at all the mishaps. This anniversary was a taste of what anniversaries as a parent will probably be like from now on.



Oh I forgot to mention that my husband and I also caught a movie for our anniversary. We went the day before to see "Tangled". We wanted to catch a Matinée so that it would be cheaper, but that once again left us with no sitter. We braved it with all three children. The theater was empty except for one guy, who also had a kid with him. I was nervous. I didn't know how it would be with all three kids, but it ended up going very smoothly. The theater was dark, so feeding the baby and tracking the twins lunch down was a little hard. But I still could not have asked for it to go better. I was so prepared for having to leave every five seconds with one kid or the other, but the only time I had to leave was when I needed to get water for the baby's bottle.

I must also mention that the twins are finally paying attention to movies now. They ask to watch "The Leapfrog Letter Factory" movie everyday. The minute the wake up all you hear is "Moofie Moofie," until you turn it on. You can distract them here and there with some music for dancing or a nice meal or snack. But other than that from breakfast time to bed time its, "Moofie, Moofie, Mofie". And if you don't turn it on they'll push buttons, play with remotes and pull cords until you do turn it on. I have to admit I get really tired of watching the "Moofie". Sometimes I can get them into a show on PBS, or anther Leapfrog movie, but nothing satisfies like "The Letter Factory". I can usually tune it out, but I still get bugged that I can't at least watch the news. When I can't watch the news I start to feel really cut off from the outside world. But still my heart smiles a little each time when the menu for the "Moofie" comes on and boys start making the letter sounds. No matter how many times I see it it's still cute!

Where the Lost Things Go!

I think the legend of Brownies was created by a mom. A mom on the brink of madness trying to explain how on earth things could just up and disappear in her house. Since I can not think of a better explanation I thought perhaps I should write a letter to the Brownies politely asking for the return of some of my items.

Dear Brownies that live in my home,

If it wouldn't be too much trouble could you please return at least one, if not more, of these items I have found to be missing in my home?

• I would greatly appreciate the return of my sippy cup lids. And while we're on the subject why is it that you just take the lids and not the whole cup?
• Perhaps the Brownies are in need of syringes for the administering of medicine. If that be the case could we at least split them half and half? Or could you just let me keep the ones I buy from here on out?
• I know it must not be pleasant to listen to a crying child from your hiding place- where ever it may be. That is why I am requesting the return of my children's binkies. I think it would keep us both a little saner.
• Oh and if you have that last puzzle piece I've been searching for, the one that wasn't chewed on by the dog, I'd like that returned as well.

If it is not your fault that these things have gone missing I greatly apologize. If it wasn't you would you please tell me because I've been looking into investigating if it really was the dish that ran away with the spoon.

Sincerly,

Tricia S.

P.S. Why is it you leave our socks alone? Not that I'm complaining. Just that I'm curious.

Don't you love the help of small children in your home. Though I can't complain too much since my little boy loves to help me unload the dishwasher,- loading is another story, but it is dang cute how hard he tries to help me unload it- and he helps me make the bed. He also helps me loose things by putting them back where they go :)- why would I look there.

Basic Mom Style

I made a decision today. It's a decision I'm familiar with as a mother, and I don't know why it has taken me so long to make it. But it has a made a world of difference.

One thing I've always done as a mom is let my kids cry. When I put the twins on a schedule I just let them cry themselves to sleep. Sometimes it would take longer than I think most people would feel comfortable letting it go, but when I was in a patient mood I could stick it out to the bitter end, and they would cry themselves to sleep.

With newborns I'm a little different. I try not to let them cry. I just think for a while you have to just deal with the crazy newborn schedule. I try to give some leeway and save the "let them cry" stage for when i feel the are more ready for it. So with this baby I've been letting it go. It's just been so hard to tell if he's growing out of the newborn stage or not. And I also let it go because I knew he didn't feel good, and I didn't think I should let him cry if he was crying simply because he didn't feel good.

The hard thing about that is that I was exhausting myself and my patience. It just doesn't fit my mothering style to always be holding and calming a crying child. I try to have my children do as much as they can with as little interference from me as possible. Since I wasn't following my mothering way I think I was really wearing myself down. And I just kept thinking, "I'm not the type of mother that can handle a child that needs to be held, soothed, played with, etc. all the time. I don't think I was meant to be the mother of this baby."

Well today I made a decision. I took care of everything I could possibly think of with the baby. Then I went to set him down. He starts crying like he wants to eat. I just looked at him and said, "Well I'm done with feeding you every two hours. You should be growing out of the newborn eating habits by now, and you don't need to eat for another hour. I'm sorry but you're just going to have to cry."

Then I put him in his swing, covered him with a blanket, shut the door and turned my music way up. I then tried to find ways to keep myself busy, so I wouldn't concentrate on the crying. Amazingly, I was stress free. I could hear his crying, but I now knew it wasn't something I had to tend to, so it didn't make me anxious. He fell asleep within 15 or 20 minutes. It was amazing.

He woke up when it was regular feeding time. I fed him, burped him, checked his diaper, played with him for a bit and when he got fussy I put him in his swing and let him cry himself to sleep. It worked beautifully. I haven't felt this good as a mom for a long time. I didn't loose my temper or yell at anyone. I laughed and played with my children. I wasn't overly stressed with housework yet I still accomplished a lot. And it just amazes me that what made everything fall into place was not a medicine, new bottle or sleeping position, but instead it was something that I felt was so wrong to do to a child who doesn't feel good.

As the day went on he got calmer and calmer. By the end of the day I put him in his swing and he just calmly drifted off to sleep. It was absolutely beautiful.

Since the only pattern I've noticed with this child is that there is no pattern I'm not sure if this is something that will always work. And I know there will be times that I can't let the crying roll off my patience like water off a duck's back. But I really feel that this is a good decision, and I think it is going to make the relationship with this baby a much stronger one. It sounds a little strange that this will help me get closer to my child and help me feel like a better mother but I think it's just simply because this way I can enjoy him more.

I really enjoyed reading this post today.

Sometimes as a mother I forget who it is that prey's an my negative emotions, and who it is that tries to use them to destroy me and my family. I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who sends me the reminders I need!

"Daughter, use all your gifts to build up righteousness in the earth. Never use them to acquire name or fame. Never rob your home, nor your children. If you were to become the greatest woman in this world, and your name should be known in every land and clime, and you would fail in your duty as wife and mother, you would wake up on the morning of the first resurrection and find you had failed in everything; but anything you can do after you have satisfied the claims of husband and family will redound to your own honor and to the glory of God." -Brigham Young



I got this quote from this blog I like to read. I really like it so I thought I'd post it here.

Welcome to the World!

There's never a time in your life when you receive more advice then when you're expecting a child. And apparently the advice giving doesn't fade after you've already successfully had one child- or two for that matter. I was starting to feel as though people didn't count twins as really having a baby. They would keep saying, "Well you had twins so you can try it again with one." And I'm thinking, "I've had twins so I know twice as well what I do and don't want."

Well it wasn't too long ago that a realization came to me. People are eager to suggest and say what they feel you should do because their experience with it was so wonderful and special- or perhaps the opposite- that they want you to share in it too- or avoid it if you can. Though they might not agree with the path you choose they are not going to end their relationship with you simply because you chose a different path- most the time at least.

I say this because a week ago I made the decision to have another c-section. I, of course, had been told countless times not too and I was worried that had I not attempted once more to have a vaginal birth that I would be hearing about it from people for the rest of my life. My mom had to battle with this. One man that she worked with even stopped talking to her completely because she just got a c-section with her second child instead of trying for a vaginal birth. I told the doctor it was one of my worries and he said I could blame it on him if I wanted to. But as I was struggling with the decision, and slowly getting more and more unhappy I started to realize that I had to decide what was important to me. My friends and family had given me advice based on what was important and special to them, but is what was special to them going to be something I wanted, and needed, for myself. It was with that thought that I turned to my husband and said, "It's only worth continuing on in this state if you really want that vaginal birth right?"

"Yeah!" He replied.

"So if it just doesn't seem worth it to me then there's no point in me going on right? It doesn't make me a wimp or a coward? It just means I have different needs and wants as a mother."

With that I felt good and happy with the idea of having another c-section. It felt like a big weight was lifted off my shoulders and I wasn't so depressed or anxious anymore.

We went to the doctor on Monday and I found out that I was still only dilated to a fingertip. That's what I had been since week 37. But it didn't upset or frustrate me, it just made me feel even more secure about my decision to have a c-section.

The doctor did an ultra sound to make sure we didn't have to get me in sooner then not. We found my fluid was on the low side, but not the scary side, and that the baby was measuring 2 weeks small. But the doctor didn't seem worried about it, and we scheduled a c-section for Wednesday morning.

It was so nice to get everything in order before the baby came. We cleaned the whole house, packed all our bags and arranged babysitting for the boys.

We went in Wednesday morning at 6:15. After getting an IV, and being asked a million questions, I was walked back to the OR to get a spinal. A spinal is like an epidural, but the medicine is even stronger so you feel even less. My husband couldn't be there while they put in the spinal, which was really unfortunate because it hurt way more then my epidural did. It stressed me out a little that the nurses had to calm me down. But soon my husband joined me. I was so happy to see him I could have cried. I didn't feel anything as they cut the baby out, and it was so wonderful to hear that first feisty cry. He sounded like such an angry baby, but it was still so wonderful to welcome him to the world.




My husband took some pictures, and I was shocked to see how different he was. Then they let my husband hold him by my head for a little bit. I looked him over and over then turned to my husband and said, "He's not as cute as the twins."

Luckily the swelling went down and soon I recognized my beautiful baby boy. And he is just as adorably cute as the twins were.

I had told the nurses that I was bottle feeding, and I have to say I loved it. It was so much more relaxing, and easy. I was bothered a lot less, and I just felt good knowing what I was doing instead of latching on here, pumping there and bottles everywhere.

He was 6 lbs, 15 oz and 19 inches of sweetness. He was small, but healthy. No Jaundice and no level 2 NICU.

I would get really nauseated off and on that first day from the spinal, and I threw up once, but the second c-section still seemed to go much better. Not going through labor seemed to help a lot with the recovery. I also think it helped that I had been there and had a better idea of what I was capable off. It's now Sunday and I'm feeling really really good.

We came home Friday, and I was so engorged I couldn't wait to pull out the pump. My plan is to pump here and there, and just slowly ween off so I don't have to get engorged and be in a lot of pain.

My parents are still taking care of the twins. I miss them terribly but I know I'm not ready to take care of them yet. It does make it hard to have two little boys who want my attention and I can't fully give it to them. But I figure in a week or two I'll be well enough to play and have fun with them. Had I stayed pregnant I probably would have gone to week 41, and they probably would have had to induce me. That would have left me pregnant for these two weeks meaning I wasn't fully capable of being a good mom anyway. And then I could have ended up with another c-section which means the boys would have been without a full time mom for two more weeks after that. So I figure my decision was still a good one.