Middle boy growing up, potty-training travails

I usually don't split my blog entries into two topics, but these are the two things on my mind this week, so there you have it. Paul lost his first tooth on Monday, and it kind of jarred me. It was an outward sign that my middle boy is growing up.

Somehow, Paul's "middleness" has managed to make this fact escape my attention from time to time. It's easy to look and Ben and think, wow, he's 9 already, and look how tall he's gotten, how much he's learned. It's much the same with my youngest: my baby is getting so big! I don't seem to have those realizations as often with Paul.

But then something will arise, the biggies like starting kindergarten, or losing his first tooth, and I think, how did that happen so soon? It doesn't have to be a momentous occasion, though, come to think of it. It can be simple as watching Paul run from the car when I drop him off at school. Or the other day, I got to school early to pick up the boys, and I caught sight of Paul walking back to his classroom with his class, and it undid me a little bit, how far he's come. He's such a great, big-hearted kid. I was sick last night, and he told me that since I didn't feel well, I could use his new Jump Rope for Heart cup. (Of course I politely declined. Who wants sick germs on their new Jump Rope for Heart cup?) Did I mention that I love him so?

The sweet part leads me to the bitter: potty training. We began the process in earnest shortly after Gus turned 3, and in classic Gus fashion, it's been a bumpy ride ever since. (The picture above has nothing to do with potty training, just wacky Gus running around in his big boy underwear and Batman costume.) The potty part came fairly easily. The problem part is twofold, however: poop and an unwillingness on his part to actually tell me when he needs to go to the bathroom. Yes, he'll go on schedule when I set the timer, but getting a child fully trained is impossible until he recognizes on his own when it's time to go. He's incredibly stubborn and fights me almost every time potty break arrives. Like Ben was when I trained him, Gus is a focused player who doesn't want to stop for something so inconvenient as emptying his bladder.

I'm at my wits' end with the poop part because aside from a few isolated incidents of success, we seem to be hopelessly stalled. I've been through enough experiences like these to know that it seems really difficult right now, but it will come eventually. Yet I can't keep out of my mind that preschool starts in less than seven months, so we do have something of a deadline looming. Perhaps I've been a little lazy about watching him for signs that it's time to, you know. I guess maybe I need to buckle down and become a keen poop sign observer. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?

Ode to marriage

Surprise, surprise, I'm a day late here. Valentine's Day got me thinking. [Aside: Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday, no doubt. But gosh, I'd argue that we really need something a little sweet this time of year to get us through to spring, so I embrace it.] Back to my deep thoughts. Like many, I had long hoped that I would find someone with whom to share my life. And I think I've well-established that I feel that I've struck it rich in terms of finding that someone.

However, I find it's really easy to extol the virtues of my partner when I'm writing or waxing reflective, a lot harder to actively appreciate what I have in day-to-day living. The difficulty of marriage is one of those truisms that got to became such because, well, it's true. What I mean to say is that marriage takes a lot of work. After spending years with someone, the shine inevitably starts to wear off - there's a reason people warn about "after the honeymoon." I mean, just look at Mark and me in our wedding photo. So young! So innocent! Soon the reality of making it financially sets in; perhaps your annoying habits and his become more glaring. Add a couple kids, and things become infinitely more complicated. Not only are you battling personality differences, now you've added parental styles that, let's face it, pretty much cannot align perfectly.

I read this memoir recently, Planting Dandelions, by Kyran Pittman. I found it infinitely relatable, not only because the author, like me, is raising three boys, but because she really captures what it's like to be in a marriage. Pittman spent many of her first years of motherhood as a stay-at-home mom, and she describes perfectly some of the conflicts that arise from that. She details the little resentments that can surface when one parent is working, the other staying home (working at home, natch), these secret feelings that the other person has it better, easier somehow. I know I've found myself envious at times of Mark wearing nice clothes to a job where he has a QUIET office and can talk to adults. I'd wager that he sometimes wishes he could throw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and forget about going to his quiet office. The reality, of course, is that the daytime life you're imagining for the other person probably is just a tad idyllic.

So maybe I'm getting a little off course here, talking about all the challenges of matrimony. Because really, what I mean to say is that I love the whole complicated, laborious, wonderfulness of marriage. I love Mark's emotional steadiness as a counterbalance to my occasional moodiness (sorry, hon, you're on the losing end of that one). I take charge in making plans, while Mark is more likely to go with the flow. Furthermore, I think our family needs both of our parenting styles: Mark telling Paul that he needs to get back in his bed, me occasionally letting Paul sneak into our bed at night. When I feel like I need to be the bad cop, Mark can step in as the good cop, or vice versa. Anyway, I hope you all are enjoying or will find the imperfect happiness that I've found.

Guess who's the social butterfly?

It sometimes seems as though I keep repeating the same mistakes as a parent. In my very own blog I've chided myself in the past for labeling my children. Of course that hasn't stopped me from doing it. Ben is the bright one, the sports fanatic. Paul is artistic and shy. Gus is, well, the crazy one. No, maybe we'll go with "extrovert" for Gus. I've read that labeling kids is not beneficial for them or you, but somehow it's so easy to fall into doing it.

I've mentioned that preschool was a bumpy ride for Paul, and by extension, me. I was genuinely concerned last year. Paul didn't really make friends at preschool. I volunteered often in his classroom, and I pretty much thought he was a loner. My shy guy - see, there I go again - honestly didn't seem to care whether he made friends. I worried what he would do in kindergarten. What would he do without friends?

That's why Paul's 180 is so amazing to me. Soon after he started the school year, Paul began to talk about his best friends from kindgergarten, Jonathon and Nathan. Not long after, he began asking to invite his friends to our house. Then he began going to their houses to play, something I swore he wouldn't do because of his strong separation anxiety (or more accurately now, his former separation anxiety). In no time, my middle son began asking to have someone over almost every day. I've watched with gratification as Paul has begun to do what all children should do: form strong bonds with their peers. It's amazing, now everyone is his friend: our neighbor boy, Matt, with whom he's bonded over a shared love of Pokemon, Landon from his faith formation class.

So, I guess my lesson is this: don't be like me. Avoid the temptation to label and just sit back and watch as your child grows and evolves. Or you can be like me - and watch in awe as your kid climbs out of the box you helped create for him.

Ben, meet movies

It began in December, when on a whim, I decided to let Ben stay up with me and watch Meet Me in St. Louis. He thought it was odd at first, but soon he was absorbed. Next came It's a Wonderful Life. He liked that one even more than the last. I could tell he enjoyed the time. Now, I couldn't say if that's because he truly liked the movies or because he got to stay up late occasionally while his brothers slept, or a combination of both. But soon he was asking for more.

My next choice was The Sound of Music. We sat on the couch under the same blanket and commented on the beauty of Austria, giggled at the marionette scene. Admittedly, Ben likes the movie parts and is quite skeptical about the music parts in the movies I choose. He sighs a bit and rolls his eyes every time a character breaks into song. And he most definitely does not like shared kisses between Capt. Von Trapp and Fraulein Maria, Rolfe and Liesl.

I'm sure some of these movies must be quite puzzling for Ben, as they were made well before even my time, and well, well before his. He asks lots of questions, and I hope he can learn something from parts of the movies like the run on the bank at the Building and Loan in It's a Wonderful Life and "why is Capt. Von Trapp so angry when those guys put up that flag at the party?" My parents introduced us to a lot of older movies when we were kids, and it's a pleasure to carry that on with Ben now.

A couple weeks ago, out of the blue, Ben said, "I really like the movies you like, Mom." It warmed my heart, and naturally I added more titles to our queue. We watched the old Parent Trap last weekend, a movie that was an old favorite of mine but that Mark always calls "weird." (Side note: upon watching it again after many years, I see his point a little bit.) Ben liked that one, as there was minimal singing.

Old movies really are a pretty safe bet for kids. No need to worry about lots of cursing or sex - though the movie we're currently working our way through - My Fair Lady - has quite a lot of "damns." Clocking in at 170 minutes, I can tell that though Ben has been sucked into the storyline, My Fair Lady is challenging him a bit. "How can it still have so much left?" he wondered yesterday after we'd hit the two-hour mark and I told him there still was a fair amount to go.

I'm loving this time with Ben, and I keep coming up with more and more films to share with him. Who knows? Onto Oklahoma and South Pacific next? We'll see. That may be pushing my luck. Best to intersperse some non-musicals in there, perhaps.