Full

Mommy, hold this.

What is it?

A rock. Will you hold it in your pocket?

Why don’t you hold it in your pocket?

Because it’s too full.

Oh okay.  I’ll hold it.

 Father, hold this.

What is it?

A memory. It’s that one day when the weather was perfect and we were outside in the backyard. The kids were playing and being so precious. And I didn’t take a picture.

One of them said something to me that was so amazing.  What was it?  I didn’t write it down.

So much is gone. Remember when they were babies?  I barely do.  And in a few years this age will be a blur as well.  It all goes so fast. I want to hold on to it. To remember and hold on to those moments that made my heart full.

But my heart is too full, and I can’t hold on to it. Will you hold it?

Okay.  I’ll hold it.

"What's in it for me?" or How I Got Owned by a 3 Year Old

We have been somewhat trying to potty train Will for a while now.  He's 3 and a half years old and for the most part won't go near the potty.  He can write his name and other letters, he can put on his own shoes, he can run, climb and jump, and speak in full sentences, but he still insists on peeing and pooping in his pants.  He's fiercely stubborn, and Mark and I have learned that there's no forcing the issue.  We just do our best to give him incentives (M&Ms, playtime on Mommy's iPhone) and every now and then they work and he will go at least sit on the potty.  And then nothing happens. After a couple of minutes he pulls up his Lightning McQueen pull-ups, takes his incentive, and triumphantly goes on his way, leaving us to grapple with our feelings of inadequacy as parents and a vague gnawing sensation of getting owned.

Friday, however, we had a breakthrough and he actually peed in the potty!  It was a great (albeit messy) victory with much ado and many M&Ms given in celebration.  He was proud of himself and talked quite a bit about what a big boy he was now.  I let him wear big boy underwear afterwards and talked to him about not getting them wet or messy by letting Mommy know when he felt like he had to "go".  He agreed to this plan.

About an hour later, he looked up at me and said, "I want to put on a pull-up."

Now, why would he ask for a pull-up unless he wanted to USE it?  I was determined not to give in so easily.  This is the conversation that ensued:
Me: "Why, Will?"
Will: "I just want a pull-up!"
"Do you need to pee?"
"No."
"Do you need to poop?"
"NO!"
"Why don't we go upstairs and you can put your poop in the potty?"
"NO!"
"Okay Will, what's it going to take to get you to poop in the potty? M&Ms?"
"No."
"I'll let you play on my phone."
"No!"
Desperate, I pulled out the big gun: "I will give you a new toy."

This caught his attention. He paused.
"What kind of toy?" he asked.

What KIND of toy?  Was my 3 year old child really trying to NEGOTIATE with me the terms of his potty usage?  I suddenly felt the pressure to put up or shut up, like I was in a high stakes poker game.  I may have started to sweat.
I remembered a Spiderman toy I had bought about a year and a half ago for a boy's birthday party we ended up missing.  I'd held onto it, thinking it would come in handy for another party eventually - certainly not ever thinking it would be used as leverage to get my son to poop on the toilet.

"A Spiderman toy," I said.
"Let me see it," he said. 

LET ME SEE IT?  Really? Who was the parent here? (A question I have to ask myself far too often.)

"No," I said.
"I want to see it!"

Surely you see the desperation of my situation.  There was no other way.  What would you have done?  DON'T JUDGE ME.

I ran upstairs, got the Spiderman-riding-some-sort-of-all-terrain-vehicle toy, still in its clamshell packaging, and brought it downstairs. 
"Here it is," I said. "But I won't open it and you can't even touch it until you go poop on the potty."
"PEE on the potty," he said.
"No, when you POOP on the potty for the first time, I'll give it to you."
Ha! See, I AM the parent here!
He took a good look at the toy.  He seemed excited, even giddy.  Or maybe I imagined that.
"Now, do you want to go to the potty?"
"No."
And he went back to playing in the living room.

A few minutes later he soaked himself with pee. I took him upstairs, stripped him down, and he refused to put on more underpants. So a pull-up it was.  A half hour later he pooped it.  As I was changing him, he said, "When I poop on the potty, I'll get the Spiderman toy!"
Yes, Will. Yes you will.

Looking back, I think my fatal mistake was caving to the "Let me see it!" demand.
Mark and I have decided Will will probably grow up to be a great political negotiator.  Or maybe tyrannical despot of a third world country. 

Thank you, Mater.

We went for a small hike in the woods at Kennesaw Mountain today.  As we were walking along we saw three deer picking their way through the forest.  I quickly pointed them out to the kids and told them they had to be quiet so they wouldn't scare them away.  After a few minutes I picked up Will and we all continued on our way.  Will started whispering to me, "Shh, make sure to be quiet.  We have to be quiet.  We have to be quiet so we can sneak up on them." "Sneak up on the deer?" I whispered back. "Yeah, we have to be quiet so we can sneak up on them and blow our horns."
If you haven't seen Disney Pixar's "Cars" movie you may not get why he said this.  Go on YouTube and look up Cars Tractor Tipping and you'll get it.
I was laughing so hard I had to put Will down.  I told Mark the story, which Will overheard then looked at me like I was stupid and said, "They're NOT tractors!"

That's scary! Tell me again ...

Little kids get scared easily.  But as they start getting older, you see them starting to kind of, just ever so slightly, enjoy the thrill of things that are scary. Witness my interaction with Will this past week ...

Will likes me to sing the "Hush Little Baby" song to him (you know, the one about the mockingbird) when I tuck him in at night.  If I try to sing something different, he quickly interrupts and says, "No, Mommy. Hush Baby."  He likes all the different things Mama's gonna get the little baby in the song.  One night after the song he sighed deeply and said, "I wish I had a mockingbird."

Anyway, I guess about a week ago, when Daddy had to tuck Will in because Mommy wasn't home, Daddy sang the "Rock-a-Bye Baby" song.  This song freaked Will out a bit.  I know because when it was my turn again the next night, he made sure to be clear, "Sing the Hush Baby song. NOT the Cradle song. Dat's a scary song. Cuz there's da baby and da tree falls and da baby falls and ..."  He accompanied his description with emphatic gestures of the baby falling out of the tree and finished with "Dat's a SCARY song."

Message received, Will. In our house, we do NOT sing the Cradle song. Except ... well ...

Tonight, when I started singing Hush Little Baby, he stopped me, and said, "Sing da Cradle song. Dat's a scary song."  I was a little confused, so I double-checked, "You mean where the baby falls out of the tree?"  And again, with emphatic gestures, "Yeah, and da cradle and da wind and da baby falls out of da tree."

So I sang it.  And Will's eyes got wide.  And when the song was over, we had to discuss again how scary that song was, and again with the emphatic gestures and re-telling of the horrible story of the baby that falls out of the tree. And then he was content.  Kisses, hugs, and five minutes later he was asleep.

Well, I tried.

It's a beautiful morning.  The thermometer on my deck says it's only 70 degrees - the real heat of the day has not set in yet.  I open the door from the kitchen to the deck to get some fresh air inside while I make coffee.

Then Will comes in, all happy and bouncy.  I scoop him up and walk outside with him, and in my best, soft-whispery, sing-song Mommy voice I say:
"Look at this beauuutiful morning! Take a deep breath. [I take a deep breath.] The air is fresh and cool.  The golden sun is shining through the trees.  There's a small breeze.  All is still and quiet except for a few birds in the distance.  Isn't it lovely?"
And Will whispers back, "Yeah. Can I go back in now?"

Sigh ...  Oh well.

Feelings

Being a mom is hard as hell and some days I feel like a complete failure. Not today. Today I'm seeing things come together. Like potty training. And like teaching GiGi to express her emotions.
She got mad at me a minute ago for turning off the tv and she turned it back on. When I turned it off again, she lashed out, using the blanket she was holding to hit the tv, knocking the cable box and some other stuff off the top. I took her upstairs for an immediate time-out. When time-out was over, I explained to her that when she gets angry she needs to tell mommy and use her words, not hit. She thought about this for a moment, then this is what she said:
"When I was a little girl your age, I got angry at you when you put me in time out. Wait. That story's not right. When I was a little girl like you, when I was your age, and you put me in time out, it made me angry and I was angry at you."
Go GiGi. So proud of my girl. One of the main things I hope to accomplish through parenting is teaching my children to express themselves in a healthy manner and to have healthy boundaries and healthy relationships. Mark and I had our emotions mocked, denied, and ignored as children, and as adults we still struggle trying to express them and even just identify them. I want my kids to know what they're feeling and to tell us. It may not result in them getting what they want, but I want them to know that we care, that we hear them, and that the way they feel matters.

August 25th 2009

Dear Gwennan,
Tonight you were such an imp. I knew you were tired and not feeling well, and I thought for sure you would drop right off when we put you to bed. But instead, half an hour later, you were up and in your doorway, calling for Daddy to come see the moon. Daddy was downstairs, so I came instead. You brought me in to your room, pulled aside the curtain and blinds and said, "See the moon?" I did see it. It was "beeliful" as you like to say. You said, "I'm sure that moon is gonna come down soon." I coaxed you back into your bed and you told me how the moon was gonna come down in three minutes. And then you told me the sun was gonna come down too. And then you told me on your birthday you were going to get moon and sun toy presents.
I loved listening to you. I did the good mom thing and convinced you to close your eyes and go to sleep, but in truth I wanted to stay up and listen to you. Listen to stories about moons and suns and birthday presents.
You are so precious to me. Three has been a difficult age in some regards - at least from my point of view - but it has also been amazing entering into your world as you learn to express yourself more and more. You see things so wonderfully and you tell us about them in your own amazing way. I love you so much. You're my girl.
Mommy

Ah, parenthood.

So Mark comes home from work feeling a bit grumpy, and I'm here waiting for him, also feeling a bit grumpy from my day. We grumpily go about our routine, getting dinner ready in the kitchen, when Mark stops a minute to hug me and give me a kiss. We stand there, holding each other, kissing each other, enjoying just a moment. Then we feel little hands trying to pry us apart and a little body trying to squeeze in between us. We choose to ignore this. Then we hear, announced with glee, "I have a poopy diaper!"

Tender moment over.

Pictures

Well, I've been horribly neglectful of my blog. I've become addicted to Facebook and if you want to find out what's going on with me more often, that would be the place to go. Altho I do still plan to update here whenever I can get around to it.
I've been uploading a lot of pics to Facebook, and the links below will allow you to go look at them.
Enjoy!!

From two months ago:
Early November
Catri Visit - Firepit in the backyard
Taking Gwennan to the Georgia Aquarium

And
Christmas

I plan to upload Thanksgiving and other pics from November and early December soon, so check back!

Camping with Friends

Last month we went camping at Lake Conasauga in North Georgia with our friends Bevin and Zellyn Hunter and Nathaniel and Shauna Sims (and Gwennan's buddy, their son Ian.) We had fun, although it was cold. The week after we returned Will got diagnosed as having severe Eczema, which probably explains his fussiness while we were there. I think the cold air was drying out his already dry skin and making it itchy, the poor guy.
Anyway, Gwennan had a blast, and although the sinus infection I had just kicked came right back during this trip, I really enjoyed myself too. It was nice just to get away.
Pics below ...

Pics of the Family

Here are a few pictures of the family lately. Make sure to go to the post after this one to see some really cute ones of Will.

Father and son













































Gwennan, after getting into Mommy's makeup bag.



















Gwennan, after getting into her closet and dressing herself.

Will Smiles

Will smiles a lot now. Usually he has this big, open-mouth, squenched-eye smile that looks more like a nice hearty laugh, only there's no sound, but I wasn't able to capture that with my camera - yet. I'll keep trying. Anyway, here's a series of pictures of him smiling and just generally being cute.

Sorry ...

It's just not so easy to blog these days.

Things are going well in the Rothnie household. Will is giving me an overnight feeding schedule that is liveable. I'm only getting up to nurse him twice a night now, instead of three times. And he's gotten quick about it, so I'm usually back in bed in about a half hour. Of course, I can't stay up past 9 for the schedule to work and give me enough sleep, but that's okay. Mark doesn't mind going to bed that early either, since he gets up at 5 every morning.

Gwennan is getting used to having a baby brother around. She gives him a kiss before bed every night and likes to check him out when he's awake. "He's got eyes open!"

Gwennan is in the throes of two-year-old-dom and challenging Mommy and Daddy as often as possible. At the same time, she still does some super cute, funny, and sometimes sweet things.
This morning she was playing with her Elmo doll and her "baby" Elmo doll. (The second one is about 3 inches tall.) She put them in my glider rocker chair and put baby Elmo up to "mama" Elmo and said, "He eating the boob!" She's pretty observant, I guess.

Gwennan is also getting better and better at talking. Lately she's been working on her present progressive verb tense:
"I running!"
"I dancing!"
But my favorite is "having":
"She having a pink shirt on!"
"I no having a pink shirt on!"

And if you hear her say, "I don't watch a movie," what she's actually saying is "I'm going to watch a movie." She hasn't mastered her "g" sound yet. It usually comes out "d", thus if you ask her name, she'll tell you it's "Dennan."

Finally, here's a couple of videos for your viewing pleasure.

The first is a video of Will for those who haven't seen him in person yet. He's pretty cute, if you ask me.



Next is a video of Gwennan and Will. Elmo and Cookie Monster wanted to see him.

William Wyatt Rothnie

Born July 9, 2008, 3:15 PM. 8 lbs, 5 oz. 19 inches.
All photos by Mark Rothnie.

Dead Dogs and Cats

So, being the history buff/geek that I am, I am currently reading through Page Smith's A New Age Now Begins: A People's History of the American Revolution. It's an excellent read, but I came across a strange excerpt the other day that continues to capture my attention. It's about the everyday common Englishman's reaction to the resolution of the First Continental Congress:

When the hangman and two sheriffs appeared in the Royal Exchange to burn publicly copies of the journal called Crisis, which espoused, among other things, the cause of the colonists, the fire was immediately extinguished by the crowd, and the officers were pelted with dead dogs and cats.

So here's my question: Were there just dead dogs and cats randomly lying about, or, when someone's dog or cat died, did they hold on to them, say in a box by the front door, just in case they needed to pelt someone with them? This has me in a quandary.

More Gwennan Videos for your Entertainment

Will is due in 18 days, and we're anxiously anticipating his arrival. I'm ready to quit sharing my body and be able to bend over again, but the trade-off is feedings every 3 hours and sleep deprivation. Am I (are we) really ready? Who knows.

Anyway, following are three videos of the Gwennanator being her cute Gwennan self.

First is G and Daddy having a little parade in the living room, using funnels as horns. Daddy is such fun.


Here Gwennan is playing with her magnetic letters and singing the alphabet song. You can occasionally hear her say, "Now I've sung my ..." and then she starts all over again.


Finally we have a VERY excited Gwennan playing on the "choo train" at Marietta Square. We usually stroll over there after a dinner at Marietta Pizza Company and let her crawl around on it with the other kids. She LOVES it.

A conversation with Gwennan

Okay, this video is kinda slow, but I'm trying to make sure I have a record of Gwennan talking at this stage. It's so adorable, and she's talking so much these days! She'll repeat nearly anything you say. So be careful when you're around her! ;o)



Scroll down to see more videos from the past few weeks ...

Gwennan and the "Birthday Cake"

Gwennan brought me a "birthday cake" the other morning. She even sang the song!

What a Ham

This is Gwennan and her buddy Ian after church on Sunday, when most everyone had left and they took over the stage.

The Latest

Last week Gwennan developed an icky rash on her face and body. She was red, blotchy, and a little pimply. A trip to the doctor diagnosed her as having Fifth Disease - which is not actually a disease, in the classic sense, but just a virus. It was supposed to have gone away by the weekend, but it didn't. We went back to the doctor yesterday, and now we're treating her for allergies, with daily Zyrtec and hydrocortisone cream. Hopefully she'll be better soon. Poor thing hasn't looked like herself in some time.

BUT, she's certainly behaved like herself. Yesterday she had taken off her shorts and diaper while she was helping her dolls and animals each go to potty. (We've been potty training G and have had one successful potty episode with her so far). I decided just to let her run around that way for a while, and when I went into her room a little later to check on her, she had climbed up onto her changing table with a clean diaper, and was in the middle of applying diaper cream. I guess she had decided she was ready for a new diaper and she would just take care of it herself. Too funny.

The baby in my belly now has a name. We have decided on the first name William, and will call him Will. To make this decision official, Mark and I went on a date Saturday night to Art & Soul and painted a "W" to go on Will's door. Gwennan has a "G" on her door, so I wanted one for Will too. No progress on the middle name yet. Mark and I have been tossing around a few ideas, but haven't decided on anything yet.

When we went on our date, we left Gwennan with Mom & Wayne to spend the night. She stayed with them while we went to church the next day, and when we came to pick her up, she looked different. I asked Mom, "Did you cut her hair?" and sure enough, she had!! I was so furious. Mom complained that G's hair was hanging in her face and she decided to cut her bangs. Only she cut them unevenly and too far back (slightly resembling a mullet haircut.)
Let it be known to all grandparents out there that there are BOUNDARIES and PARENTAL RIGHTS that must be respected. Cutting a child's hair without a parent's permission is overstepping a boundary.
Mom's response to my scolding? "I knew if I'd asked you first, you would have said no."
Grrrrr ....

Finally, Mark and I have been slavishly working away on our downstairs family room. We primed over the navy blue paint below the chair railing and the horrible duck border that ran around the whole room. Then we started painting all the wood trim glossy white, which is a slow and tedious process - not to mention frustrating, as Mark and I are far from pro painters. BUT it's almost all done now and soon all that will be left to do is paint the walls a light green. The room already looks so much brighter and more cheerful. There are two windows down there, but the room still does not get much light, so I wanted to paint it something light and happy. Once we get this room done, we'll get working on our bedroom (no trim to paint there, thank God), and then we'll be done with painting for a while!

After all the painting's done, we'll be kicking back and simply waiting for the arrival of Will.