Dreams of Success

This was Russell a week ago last Sunday evening. Clark and I returned from a marriage fireside of reports from the babysitter that Russell after being put to bed ran out excited to show off his underwear. His excitement was due to the fact that he would "officially" be wearing that underwear the next day as he began the venture called: potty training. I found him around 10 pm that night, blissfully snoozing clutching that same pair of underwear. I wonder what he dreamed about that night.

I know that as a mother I do not have the same anticipation toward potty training as my children do. In fact, I dread it. Other mothers have confessed to me that they believe it is the bane of motherhood. I tend to agree. However . . . however, thus far this second round of potty training has been much easier than the first. A few reasons: Russell's older (almost 3); he's watched Jaron accomplish this feat for years; I feel more relaxed - accidents? big deal!; and a wonderful little discovery of sugary motivation . . .

Skittles!! The first day was rough going until he got that first taste of what success meant. And well, Russell and candy are a wonderful combination. The next thing I knew, this kid was living on the toilet in order to "earn" more candy. He was self-training. That's what I call great. So a week into and while there have been bumps he's being doing great. And I'm happy about that!

Dirty Work

My husband insists that I come clean. I'm apparently making him do my dirty work. While I causally tell people that I haven't shopped at Walmart since January he has been taking over my dreadful chore and doing it for me. So there, it's out.

However, I don't know if Clark going 3 whole times qualifies as my dirty work. Especially since he was already planning on going one time and I begged him to buy me some white cheddar popcorn that I have difficultly finding anywhere but there. I'm so addicted to this stuff. I've essentially survived 2 pregnancies (and almost three!) by the consumption of white cheddar popcorn. Let me tell you about sacrifices! So he has sweetly stocked up on it for me. I think I currently have 4 bags. So exciting.

And his most recent trip he probably deserves a medal of honor for putting up with me. I finally had him put to use a $100 gift card he won. After months of thinking what would we really want for $100 from Walmart we finally decided to indulge and purchase items that we would effectively throw away anyway: diapers, pull ups, wipes. We are incredibly exciting people. And being the crazy coupon lady I sent him with a long list of what to buy and a stack of about 16 coupons. And the sweet man that he is, he did it. I think he secretly enjoyed how much he saved, not to mention the fact that he scored 2 packages of his favorite Bic pens for FREE with the use of my incredible coupons. I think he was happy about that one. Especially since he expects those pens to last for another 10 years. (Gosh, I could write a whole other post just detailing all the free things we've acquired using coupons. It's fun.)

So there. I've come clean. My husband shops at Walmart.

Graduation?

We experienced a first today. Jaron graduated from preschool. I must say, I find it amusing that they have a graduation but he was thrilled with the attention. I feel a little emotional that this year of preschool is over and done with. Maybe they really do do these things for the parents; I need the closure. I have adored his teacher (as has he). I'm going to miss having something for him to do 3 days a week. I'm going to miss an educational opportunity where there are only 7 kids in the classroom and he's thoroughly spoiled with all kinds of attention. I'm going to miss being treated with respect just because I'm my son's parent. (I've lacked that in the few interactions I've had with his elementary school.)

The amusing thing of the day was when Ms. Sonia shared with us something Jaron said this morning. She must have been talking with her class about how it was the last day and she wouldn't see them. Well, this is a small town where you regularly run into people you know. One of the kids commented that they would probably see her at Walmart. Most likely they will! Which Jaron then pipped up, "My mommy doesn't shop at Walmart anymore." I laughed and laughed. He's got that right! And I'm saving, at last check, over $60 a month not doing just exactly that! But poor kid, he's losing out on the social opportunity.

Eliza is a cream filling kinda gal. She thinks the cookie is just the packaging and not worth eating.

And Russell was just happy to consume as much and as many cookies as he could.

To Know or Not to Know

Since finding out we were expecting again we quickly answered the question "Do we want to find out?" Both Clark and I, surprisingly, agreed that we would wait. My theory is that if I have the anticipation of finally discovering if this baby is a boy or a girl that I will be able to more graciously make it through the last several miserable months of pregnancy. (Let's not also mention the fact that I have to survive the summer . . . in Oklahoma . . . where the community pools close at the beginning of August.) That instead of looking forward to not being pregnant I will instead anxiously look forward to "knowing" and thus not dwelling on being uncomfortable. See . . . this is my theory. Let's see if it holds true.

Well, everything has been fine and dandy until we throw the thoughts and opinions and desires of a strong-willed 5 year old into the mix. Remember how Jaron has been excited that I'm having a baby? Well, Jaron was obsessed with the idea that this baby needed to be a girl. Maybe it's a perfectionist tendency in him. I'm not sure. Our theory (there I go with theories again) is that he has a better memory of Eliza being a baby and how cute and fun she was.

Conversation after conversation didn't seem to sway his opinion that a loving Heavenly Father might find that sending a baby boy to us much more necessary than sending a baby girl. He wondered if we could send the baby back. When told no he finally explained to me that he wouldn't want to see or hold the baby if it was a boy. He would stay in his room or go to school.

Clark who had previously blown these comments off took this comment very seriously when I relayed it to him one evening. Maybe we needed to put our own wants and desires aside to adequately prepare Jaron for this next transition in our family. We thought we would have some time to ponder what to do before we had the ultrasound which would reveal all.

Well . . . we thought wrong! The next day at my doctor's appointment he casually suggested that I should come back that afternoon for the ultrasound instead of waiting another week or so. Several hours later found us in the doctor's waiting room with all three kids frantically re-thinking our decision.

Clark: "I think we definitely should find out. It would be important to Jaron."

Me: "Really? Are you sure?"

Clark: "Yes"

Me: "Ok but I will feel incredibly silly because I've told lots of people we weren't finding out."

Clark: "Well, we don't have to tell them that we know."

Me: Look at him like he has said we should pay more in taxes than we currently are.

Clark: "Bad idea."

I sit there and contemplate finding out. Tell myself it's fine. It will be fun to know. Besides, I'm a planner.

Moments later just as the nurse calls us in. Clark quickly declares to me: "I've changed my mind. We definitely should not find out. Jaron will be fine."

I love my husband but gosh I really wanted to knock him upside the head or something. You just don't mess with the head of pregnant woman that way. Through the whole appointment I was desperately attempting to discover the gender of the baby. The kids thought it was mildly interesting to watch. Jaron in particular loved seeing the baby. He kept saying, "Oh she looks so cute. Or is it a boy?" The technician slyly deflected his several questions about if the baby was a boy or girl.

So we walked out not knowing. And that's ok. And Jaron? He loves looking at the ultrasound pictures. He's happy to discover that the baby is a baby and is cute regardless of it being a girl or a boy. I just hope he stays that way.

And me? I'm fine now. Clark got a mildly chewed out and I think he did the dishes that night in recompense.

Oh, I'll happily take predictions. Your odds are 50-50.

Wild Flowers

In my opinion, Oklahoma is not as lush and green and beautiful as I'm use to. (No offense locals!) I am however, finding some beautiful natural features even if I do miss lots and lots of trees. I feel lucky that our neighborhood has several undeveloped lots. And when they go unmowed they grow the most beautiful wild flowers. My pictures don't really do them justice but I wanted to show a few I recently picked; about 8 different varities though I saw well over a dozen different flowers.

My kids love going on flower picking excusions with me. I love all the unique flowers I find. A few weeks ago it was lots of purples and now they are changing over to yellows and whites and a few reds. Periodically I find a few solo unusual flowers that are gorgeous and I sit a moment and admire and then move on. I try not to pick everything! I need to enjoy them while I can since I know that some of my neighbors don't like the undeveloped lots overgrowing and probably any day now a mower will come and mow down all those beauties. Gosh, I love flowers!

ONE-derfully Delightful

I think one-year-olds are so delightful to be around. Eliza is no exception to that. She constantly entertains with her smiles, her thrill to see you walk into a room, her giggles, and her creative use of words. (She has mastered the word "guysssss".) Amongst other things.

It is just so refreshing to be around a one-year-old. Here are a few reasons why.

One-year-olds are friends with anyone at anytime. They are happy to smile and share their love of life. You catch an eye of a one-year-old and you are sure elicit a smile.
They are always stylish and fashionable. Even when there are boogers hanging out of their nose. Spaghetti sauce in their hair. A squishy diaper bum. They are constantly adorable and cute.
To be one is to be inquisitive. To ponder deeply the little things of life.
To enjoy the luxury of dragging a soft blanket all around the house and cozing up to it whenever you heart desires. In fact, the ability to drag anything around the house. Hairbrushes, toothbrushes, diapers, jackets, bowls, spoons, crackers, toys, shoes, cups, and books. And then not care where they end up. "Don't mind of I do" frequently comes to mind when they spot an open lap and take it as in invitation to take a seat and enjoy a book.

When was the last time you frolicked in the great out doors, just clad in a shirt, a diaper and a smile?To be one is to take pleasures in the little things. To swing on a swing to your hearts content. To "moo" at any animal you see, even if it's a rabbit.
To enjoy everything. To love unconditionally and readily. Oh, how I love one-year-olds. Especially my little one-year-old.