PARENTING: WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

It occurred to me the other day that there are two very important things my son does, that are not only crucial to being a functional and independent human, but that as a parent I can take very little credit for:

#1. Going to the bathroom (in a bathroom)
#2. Reading.

Let's start with #1.

Sure... Right before Jonah turned 2, in hopes that he would just be naturally drawn to potty training, I bought a little potty that lit up and sang if "the goods" hit the bowl. In truth... Other than becoming a receptacle for Curious George stickers and thick strands of black hair during my (weekly) blowout session (it's the best I can do, people), this potty was of little use. In fact, there wasn't a whole lot of "training" that went on. Honestly, it just kind of happened. Obviously, we did a few things here and there to encourage the process (i.e.  The Cheery"Who wants M&Ms for breakfast?!" Dance, or The "Let's Pee Pee on Cheerios" Game), but if I'm being honest with myself (and/or have just completely erased all of the early potty years of misery from my memory), I'm fairly certain the "training"part happened at daycare and preschool. Bottom line, now he goes without any issue. So however it happened, let's just be grateful.

#2 Reading.

First of all, let me just say that Redshirting was the single most important (right) decision we ever made. Without question, waiting a year to start him in Kindergarten was a huge gift and one of the reasons I think he's thriving so much at school right now. In addition to the fact that his teacher is amazing and Snow White reincarnated (that for another time), the fact that he's at a public school where the state standards are enforced, in my opinion, is also a huge gift. He's reading and writing, adding and subtracting. And we are less than 2 months into school. The point is, as much reading (and talking) as *I* have done to/with Jonah throughout his life, I had nothing to do with the actual part of TEACHING him how to do it. Kind of like going on the potty, I'd say the bulk of his ability to read and write did not happen on my dime.

As a parent, it's easy to get caught up in the guilt about what you're doing or not doing, and let the "it's all my fault" snowball swell. (After all, this blog is sort of dedicated to that).  But as Jonah gets older, and I get a little less hard on myself (note: OGAP is going better than expected), I'm finding that I'm just happy he is HAPPY. He's a happy boy who has everything he needs and then some. My parenting tactics can always be improved upon and his behavior can always be modified. But for now, this week, that is, I've noticed that whatever we've done SO FAR ain't bad. Because of us, there are a lot of things this kid does really well.

He knows the importance about being kind.
He believes in God and thinks deeply about his religion.
He isn't afraid of a single roller coaster or ride.
He can tell a good joke.
He cares deeply about the Dodgers, and whoever else his dad or Peter is rooting for.
He loves sushi.
He has a deep interest in Volcanoes and Yellowstone National Park. (Both of which he's' never seen in person.)
He understands sarcasm.
He likes "spooky stories" and requests they all start with "It was a dark and stormy night..."
He never shies away from a good cuddle.
He knows what it's like to live through an emergency and is reflective and grateful for his safety.
He thinks I'm the funniest mom in the entire world. "Even more funny than Hannah's mom. And she's pretty funny."

He is THIS because of us. THIS we can take credit for.

On a different note, Jonah's been saying, "What up, Yo?" a lot lately. I can tell you right now, that is absolutely NOT my fault. Totally blaming this on someone else. Like, for reals yo.

TRAINING. YEAR 4.

"Mommy, we are out of toilet paper," my 4 year old son says as he opens the cabinet to get another roll. "Time for me to fix it," he says as he takes the old cardboard out. (This is probably his second most favorite thing in the world to do other than opening hotel rooms with "magic cards.")

"Before you put a new roll in, would you please pull up your pants, and close the toilet lid?"

"But--"

"Please."

"Ok, fine."

"Thank you," I say finishing my makeup. As I watch him carefully insert the new roll of toilet paper, I silently congratulate myself for having (raising) a son who is happy to help with small tasks like this. It occurs to me, however, that though my son voluntarily wipes down the toilet after he's peed (another fantastic habit I'll chalk up to an anal retentive gene I've so graciously bestowed upon him), we've actually never had the "put the toilet seat down when you're done" convo- as I am almost always the one to do it.

"You know, Jonah, when you're done going pee pee, you need to put the toilet seat down."

"Why?"

"Um, because. You need to."

"Why don't YOU put it down?"

And there it was. DNA at it's finest. All this time.... 35 years spent questioning (criticizing) the opposite sex about the way they think, and there it was. They aren't born with it. They don't think about the toilet lid because they don't know about the toilet lid. Their brain is missing the toilet lid logic lobe.

Armed with this lightening bolt, revelation of a moment, I took a deep breath and put my training helmet on: "Jonah, putting down the toilet seat is like using please and thank you. It's a part of manners. It's not nice for a person to walk in and have to put down the toilet seat after you."

"But, mommy, how come YOU don't lift it up for ME? You go pee pee, and when YOU are done, lift it up. So it's ready for ME."

"Sorry, sweetheart, no. That's not how it works," I said before I instructed him on a step that I also think is boys/men genetically lack: "Now, wash your hands."

To my son's future wife, you can thank me later.

READING MATERIAL

This is the reading material my 3.5-year old would like to keep on top of the facilities....

It's official. I live with a boy.

THANKS, FREUD

As best as I can, I will try to not make this another blog post about poop. I will say, however, I'm starting to think that Jonah's constant potty talk isn't just impart to his age. But rather, much like Degas' fascination with ballet dancers, there is an underlying theme to my young artist's budding imagination and visions. Perhaps his bowel movements, or lack thereof, are on his mind, as much as they're on mine....

Take these series of drawings if you will....

When asked what he was drawing, he said matter of factly, "They are squiggly circles."

And then I saw this picture, drawn at school and dictated to one of the teachers.

Look people, I'm not trying to get too heavy but clearly, J's obsession with "squiggly circles" and recurrent severe constipation is no joke. Jonah is clearly amidst what Freud dubbed as the "Poop Phase." Well, I dubbed it the Poop Phase. Freud actually calls it "The Anal Stage." Scholar.

Here's what it is:

At one and one-half years, the child enters the anal stage. With the advent of toilet training comes the child's obsession with the erogenous zone of the anus and with the retention or expulsion of the feces. This represents a classic conflict between the id, which derives pleasure from expulsion of bodily wastes, and the ego and superego, which represent the practical and societal pressures to control the bodily functions. The child meets the conflict between the parent's demands and the child's desires and physical capabilities in one of two ways: Either he puts up a fight or he simply refuses to go (<---THAT'S JONAH!!).... A child may opt to retain feces, thereby spiting his parents while enjoying the pleasurable pressure of the built-up feces on his intestine. If this tactic succeeds and the child is overindulged, he will develop into an anal retentive character. This character is neat, precise, orderly, careful, stingy, withholding, obstinate, meticulous, and passive-aggressive. The resolution of the anal stage, proper toilet training, permanently affects the individual propensities to possession and attitudes towards authority. This stage lasts from one and one-half to two years.

http://www.victorianweb.org/science/freud/develop.html

While I'm slightly concerned that he'll grow up to be "obstinate" and "anal retentive," I think it's much better than the other kid who poops a lot. " ... an anal expulsive character. This character is generally messy, disorganized, reckless, careless, and defiant."

Anyway, for now, I'm happy to be be in the Anal Stage of life. Apparently up next is The Phallic Stage. And that is one phase I'm definitely not ready for...

A GIRL WALKS INTO A FARM...

This past weekend, we took a little trip with a bunch of friends also with kiddies to Underwood Family Farms. In Los Angeles, "pumpkin patches" are usually hosted out of a parking lot behind a supermarket, with paparazzi lurking for "Stars, they're just like us" moments. (God forbid the world shouldn't know that Marcia Cross also "picks. out. a. pumpkin.") So when we finally got to Underwood, approx. 50 miles out of town, I have to say I was beyond delighted that this was a far cry from your itty bitty overpriced city pumpkin patch. Nope, this was a full fledged overpriced country farm-- replete with real tractors (oh yes, there was even a tractor parade!), animals (a pig race to be exact), and more corn products to eat than humanly possible. (Not true, actually. If there was a corn dog stand, then my day would have been perfect. But kettle corn and roasted corn on the cob definitely hit the spot for the time being).

Anyway, it was one of the best days I've had in a long time. Jonah was in absolute heaven. Some of the highlights...

Like I said... There were tractors. And there was corn. $10 to the first person who can guess who had corn stuck in their teeth on this tractor....

Jonah walked around saying, "Mommy, why does the farm smell?" Well, the horses, goats, pigs and damp hay from all the rain may have had something to do with it. Or, could have been the massive trough of dried beans that for two tickets, children could sit in and sift through. Apparently beans are a magical fruit...

Our trip to the "country" was the first time we were taking this potty training gig on the road....

Though I appreciate "Farmer Jon" for equipping his Jon with a child seat, I wish the "Junior Jon" that went potty before us, would not have left a poo ball, yes a little poo ball, right on said child seat....

Ever try explaining to a potty training 3 year old with an insatiable curiosity for EVERYTHING that "honey, there's poo on the seat, don't touch anything... it's okay, just go pee pee now... yes... poo... no, don't touch... I don't know why there's poo, I don't know who's poo... please don't touch... I don't know why it doesn't smell... please make pee pee....NOW!" Yah. Good times (and yes, that is my butt hanging out of my jeans. It was the least of my worries during what felt like a hostage standoff with a bomb about to explode. Pressure!)

Finally, we ended the day with another treat... fresh smoothies. Nothing too terribly witty to add here. Just a couple of darling kids with their drinks. It was a great day at the farm-- a fun Halloween/ Fall/ Country experience...

Of course, it might have been nice to leave with an actual pumpkin... DUH.

THE POOP PRIZE

Since the inception of this blog, I have affectionately referred to my son as "Baby-Ko." But alas, the time has come to not only acknowledge the fact that though he is forever my baby, he is in no way a baby. He is a little boy.... A little boy with an infectious smile, incurable curiosity, and an ability to produce bowel moments on a moments notice.

Yup. I simply told him that I had a Buzz Lightyear motorized motorcycle that would be his in exchange of 3 poops on the potty, and I saw in his eyes a "Noooow we're talking, lady," smirk that he never gave with my lousy M&Ms and Skittles offerings. The drawn out, exhausting, and tactical negotiations that I had been dealing with for a month suddenly ceased. He threw me one last, "Holy shit, this bitch means business," look and it was game on.

Of course, I had no idea that only 2 hours later, he would have met his goal (and then some), but a deal is a deal.

Congratulations, Jonah. Drive safely.

CHEER FOR ME

There are a lot of transitions happening in the world of J-Ko right now... Transitions can be hard. I'm learning to gather strength and encouragement from within and it ain't easy.... Learning to be your own cheerleader is definitely empowering. And at some point, I do plan on talking about these transitions. But for now, I would like to focus on one major transition... okay, well, two...  

The first is that I'm sending Baby-Ko back to day care full time. It's a no-brainer, actually.... choosing day care over a full time nanny. First of all, a full time nanny in LA costs a friggin fortune and second, Baby-Ko is 21 months and definitely is ready for socialization. On top of it, I'm sending him to an in-home day care that has been in business for over 30 yrs, is run by A.R., one of my best friend's mothers AND, I went there myself when I was Baby-Ko's age. Again, no brainer. That all said, we're transitioning him in gradually and given the fact that, well, my boy loooves him some mama, saying good-bye when I drop him off, hasn't been easy. Each day, he's doing better and better, but the initial "no mommy no" when I leave is definitely heart breaking. What gives me hope is how happy all the children are there, and how they all seem to play so well together.... I know he'll be just fine.

In the meantime, I've bought Baby-Ko his very own potty. In fact, the rumor on the (Westside) street is that it's a potty that Wacky endorses. It's the Fisher Price "Cheer For Me Potty" and it apparently makes noise when the pee hits the pot. I'm not quite sure how to formally do the whole potty training thing, but I know that I will for sure not "oof off" during his poops and I won't push it unless he shows some interest. But let me tell you, he definitely shows an interest. In fact, it's his favorite new toy and he even dragged the Sunday newspaper in to the bathroom with him and sat down on the toilet.  (I'm not even making this up. Seriously. It was the best thing I ever witnessed, really). Anyway, little by little I will test out the waters (or urine for that matter) with the whole peeing on the potty thing. Poop is way down the road, but at least Baby-Ko will get positive reinforcement from a singing toilet, and of course a very proud mommy, encouraging him to go... 

Ahh, if only they made toilets to cheer on adults, growing up would be a hell of a lot easier....

POOP BY ASSOCIATION

Disclaimer:  This is my blog and I'll talk poop if I want to.

POOP SHAME: THE FINAL CHAPTER

As I've mentioned over the past couple of weeks or so, Baby-Ko's vocabulary is really taking off. He's repeating nearly everything, including the words that he shouldn't (I dropped a carton of milk and cursed, to which he followed promptly with "Oh, Tuck!) I know that an 18 month old with a truck driver mouth isn't something to brag about, but I must say, hearing him string two words together, (even an "oh"), was awesome.

And of course, given the fact that Bee-Bee's made it known that poo-poo is Oof, it should come as no surprise that now when I go to the bathroom (and Baby-Ko is in there with me), no matter what it is I'm doing/going, he points to the potty and says "oof."  At first, I was mildly offended as I wasn't even going #2 and I can promise there was nothing "Oof" about any of it. But then I realized it's actually quite intelligent- he ASSOCIATES bathroom (the potty), with "oof."  In my opinion, this is brilliant! In fact, the other day, when we were at Costco, as I put the seven-thousand-roll-case of toilet paper in to our cart, Baby-Ko pointed to the wipe-your-ass-for-years supply of TP and said "Oof! Oof!"  Yes! Toilet Paper = OOF! GENIUS.

The point is, I'm not so worried that all the Oofing is going to stop Baby-Ko from pooping or enjoying the potty. I think eventually, he'll have no choice right? When he's 16 years old, it will be funny to be Oof and (if he's anything like the boys I know), he'll even want to get his friends in on the Ooofing. 

So at this point, I'm going to try to put my worry about poop shame to rest -- especially since he's communicating and using his words to tell me what he wants and needs so well. In fact, just the other day, as I was changing his diaper, he strung together his first three word sentence: 

 "I go Poo-Poo."

Now that was Ooof. So very oofing sweet....

POOP SHAME PART 2

Last week, I got a Baby Center email update telling me that my "baby" may be ready to start potty training. 

DELETE. 

OOPS.  See, according to the pediatrician (who I pretty much forced in to telling me that Baby-Ko's language skills were advanced for his age, to which I literally did a high school/napoleon dynamite "yeeessss!"), Baby-Ko is in fact ready to start "potty training." He would like to see him fully trained, or at least interested and "engaged" in the toilet and all that it entails by the age of 2... which is in 6 months.... EEK.  That's a lot of stinkin' pressure... literally.

Twenty minutes ago, I just heard Bee-Bee and Baby-Ko playing.

Baby-Ko: "Poo poo!"

Bee Bee: "Okay, you go poo- poo."

Baby-Ko: "No! No, Poo-Poo!"

Bee-Bee: "Oooff?! You go poo-poo, Ooof?!"

Baby-Ko: "No!!!" 

Three minutes later....

Bee-Bee: "Time to change your diaper, baby."

Baby-Ko: "Nooooooooooo!!!" 

They go in to his bedroom...

Bee-Bee (changing his diaper): "Whoooah! Big poopie! Big big poopie!"

Baby-Ko: "Noooo!"

Bee-Bee: "Ooof! Baby-Ko, Ooof!"

Baby-Ko: "No, ooof!"

Bee-Bee: "Yes, Oof. Very very oof. OOF."

I almost went flying in and begged her to stop the Oof-ness but I couldn't. I was frozen. Am I being too paranoid? Am I over thinking this? Two seconds later, he was laughing and they were playing again. But what if this pooping nonsense is really stopping him up- really holding him back-- I want him to be free. Free to poop. Free to smell. Free to be!  

THOUGHTS? DO I SAY SOMETHING? OR SHOULD I EVEN GIVE A SH*T????? :-)

POOP SHAME

The other day, our nanny ("Bee-Bee"), proudly exclaimed that Baby-Ko has been mimicking her. She told me that when she went to change his diaper, it was stinky and she said "Ooof," and he copied her and said "oof!" She thought it was hilarious and I guess created a little game and while making a "pee-eww!" face says, "Baby-Ko, do you have poo-poo?" He then says, "Nooo. Ooof!" She  proudly showed me their little poo-poo shtick game and I laughed.  Funny (smart) kid, I thought.  Poo-poo is "ooof."

But the next day, when I saw he was sort of struggling while making poops, I said, "Baby-Ko are you making-" and he, almost defensively, answered, "NO!" 

He seemed to be in pain. "Ooof?" I said, trying to lighten things up. 

"NO," he said sadly and walked away.  Did I shame him???

Suddenly I remembered hearing that you're not supposed to embarrass or call attention to your toddler's poop or smell. "It will make them feel bad and make them not want to go." I have no idea where I heard it, but I can only assume it dates back to one of Wacky's lectures or a play date with a PREPMM (Perfect Read Every Parenting Manual Mommy).  But maybe this time, those nutty broads are right... Maybe "ooof" makes him feel bad. Maybe he likes his poop and wants to go freely.

I told my mom my theory and asked her if she thought I should say something to Bee-Bee -- tell her that I would prefer not to "tease" Baby-Ko about pooping. "I don't want him to have poop shame," I said. "He should poop without any judgement..." As I was saying this ridiculously "West side" mommy thing, I started to laugh right along with my mom.

"Nahh. Don't say anything. He'll be fine. He'll still poop... 'Ooof' or not... He'll go. Believe me," she said.

"He won't feel bad? Ashamed?"

"J-Ko, have you known any man in our family (or in the world?!) to feel shame about pooping?"

POINT TAKEN.

But just out of curiosity and because my OCD is raging tonight, does annnnnnnnnyone think ooofing at his pooping may cause a little poop drama down the road? Or is Wacky's word, once again, a load of crap? Literally...

THE POOP MACHINE

Yesterday, as I sat praying that my 3rd cup of coffee would stir a little somethin' up in the ol' bowels, I caught a story on the Today Show that once again sort of shocked me. Ironically, it was about a woman who runs a potty training program out of her house called "Booty Camp." I won't go in to a lot of detail about this woman's methods, but I will say this: Bitch Ca-Razy! Okay. Literally imagine 3 year olds, with their pants DOWN, sitting next to each other on beginner potties in a ROW, in THE MIDDLE of some lady's kitchen. Their parents are watching and being given "tools" to help encourage and train their kids to use the potties. Meanwhile, the lady gives the children the saltiest, sweetest, shittiest (no pun intended) food and drink you can imagine because she claims the salt and sugar will speed their bladder and "soften their bowels." Some leave successful, some leave with crap still in their pants, and some leave with crap on the floor (literally, they have to help clean their mess off the floor if they have an accident).

I don't know. Potty training seems like something that should be done at home or at preschool where a child's "potty" readiness is treated on an individual basis. Fortunately, we're ways away from having to think about potty training Baby-Ko. Besides, Baby-Ko has his own system in place and has created his own personal little bathroom and toilet area: The Evenflo ExerSaucer, a.k.a. The Poop Machine. I don't know what it is, but EVERY TIME we put Baby-Ko into it, without fail, he poops! If they only made a machine like that for adults, I'd sure cut out A LOT of caffeine....

Behold BABY-KO & THE POOP MACHINE. Oh, and the very first picture ever posted on my blog...

Mission Accomplished!