How to Train Your Toddler

Correction: How to Potty Train Your Toddler

Step 1: Wait until she's ready.

The end.

I started to try to potty train Noelle at the beginning of the summer. I was determined to proudly walk my potty trained two year old into her daycare at the beginning of this school year and proclaim to all that I had successfully coached her out of diapers and WOW aren't I the best at being a mom??

Well, after one day of potty training in May, I quit. I cried and then I quit. Noelle wasn't getting it. I wasn't sticking with it. End of story. Looking back now, I laugh because Noelle was still sleeping in a crib. How on Earth was I going to teach a child to get up out of bed in the middle of the night to go potty when she wasn't even physically able to get out of bed in the first place?

So, we abandoned the potty training idea for a couple of months. We bought her a twin bed and started pumping her full of "I'm a big girl!" confidence. Once she started school, the people at the daycare began to plant the seed of sitting on the potty. I had mixed feelings about this-- mainly because I wasn't really asked if this was OK, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for them to do it...but Noelle insisted on trying like the big girls, and I guess it ended up being a good thing.

As of last Friday, I added several pair of Hello Kitty underwear to the Dora & Yo Gabba Gabba ones we already owned from the first failed attempt and told Noelle we were done with diapers.

Now, I'm not saying I haven't had to clean up my fair share of pee on the floor, on the toilet set, in the undies, on the socks, etc, etc, etc...but I will say that in one week, she had only ONE accident while at school, and she has used the potty numerous times out in public, too. I'd say her success rate is about 75-80% at home, and I think that's pretty good. She wants to be a big girl and she likes feeling successful.

We are trying to reward her with stickers instead of food treats, but I'm not gonna lie...I've been so happy she's finally doing it that I have given her suckers, gum, fruit snacks, chocolate, and I bought her a stuffed penguin today because she peed in the potty at Hobby Lobby. I'm that mom...but I don't really care. I can honestly say I haven't changed a diaper in a week, and that hasn't happened since early 2010. All this just in time for me to start changing lots and lots of tiny diapers here in a few weeks.

Potty training is HARD work on the parents, too. Diapers are much easier. I actually was OK with her being in diapers. It's far easier when you're out in public to just let your kid pee in her diaper instead of frantically trying to find a bathroom while your child is yelling to an entire store "I have to go potty!" all the while you're sweating profusely and worried someone is going to buy that shirt that's the last one in your size that you're going to need to stash somewhere while you're in the bathroom. Ugh.

But-- it's a necessary evil, this potty training thing. I'm happy she has decided to take the leap. Just one more notch in her "I'm a big girl" belt.

As of tomorrow, not only will I "turn" 28 weeks pregnant, but it will have been a week since I last saw Luke. He has been in Canada on a fishing, camping, and canoeing trip with his dad, brothers, some family, and friends. He is due back here on Sunday, and I can't freaking wait until I see him. Really, tomorrow will be the last day that I won't be able to talk to him because at least while he is on the 20 hour drive back on Saturday, I should be able to chat with him on the phone. This makes me quite happy!

This is the longest amount of time that I have been away from him since having Noelle. This has been a really challenging week. All of the loneliness, silence, and just longing to have his company around aside, it has been a busy week where I would ordinarily really need his help, want his opinion, rely on his expertise, and cherish his support. It's amazing how you truly don't understand how much you need your spouse until they are not there (for any amount of time, really), and when you have a child, that need is multiplied by about 10,000.

Luke is a super wonderful dad, a supportive husband, and in general just a great, positive person to be around, so not having him here (both in person and on the phone) has been so tough. This week, I had several photo sessions, my glucose test at the doctor's office, a lot of school stuff to get done, and some housing stuff to take care of in Indy. Not to mention this was basically my last full week of summer break, so I really didn't want to spend it frantic and frazzled and lonely, but I did the best I could. I'm thankful for all the babysitting help and people who were there to keep me company this week.

However, through it all, even though I absolutely cannot stand when Luke is gone this long, I feel a sense of strength and accomplishment. I was able to swallow my fears of being alone, to handle responsibilities and duties that aren't normally mine, and to be strong for my daughter when even she quietly whispered in bed, "I miss Papa."

So, I find myself both wishing for Sunday to hurry up and get here and for the week to slow down (only because I will be starting school one week from tomorrow), but since sacrifice was the theme of the week, I'll go ahead and just hope for this week to end as quickly as possible.

Adventures in Potty Training

I am going to be starting Potty Training Bootcamp with Noelle tomorrow! I am extremely nervous about this...and I think what makes me most nervous is that I can't leave the house for 3 days while we are in "bootcamp." Luke is on call tomorrow until 10, too, so that means we will be in the house allllllllll day. I get cabin fever really easily, but I think this is a sacrifice I can handle, especially if Noelle is successful.

I am stocked up on fruit snacks to use as rewards as well as small toys to help keep her motivated and rewarded for a job well-done. We have Dora underwear and I am ready to clean up pee all day. Well, I don't know if "ready" is the word, but I am preparing myself to do it.

I will be sure to document the trials and triumphs of this process because I know that you are just dying to know how it turns out. Hopefully, by the end of this week, we will have a potty trained little girl on our hands! Crazy!

A reflection

It's my last day of school. My room is quiet. My students have already spent a whole day doing whatever they want, and I have been working in my classroom, doing my best to clean and organize before I take a couple weeks off. Yes, I said a couple weeks, not 10 weeks, because I as well as nearly every other teacher I know continue to work throughout the summer. Just had to get that in there for all the doubters in the world.

Anyway-- I'm feeling reflective today. Almost emotional. I can blame the hormones, but really I think it's because I am filled with regret. When a school year comes to a close, you take a minute to stop and think about what you accomplished and what you didn't. I tend to focus on what I didn't accomplish-- what I set out to do, but didn't. What I hoped to achieve, but didn't. What I imagined myself doing, but didn't. This isn't the best way to think, but it is also where the biggest changes are made. Self-reflection is quite important in all areas of life, but in teaching, it is crucial. Teachers who no longer self-reflect are the teachers who are giving everyone else a bad name. Teachers who go on doing what they always have been doing just because it's easier, not because it's good for the kids. I have always been quite reflective and have never really been afraid of change. In fact, teaching is the one area of my life where I enjoy and embrace change. I love fresh, new ideas and strive to be the teacher that I would want for my very own children. 

All that said, I now know that I have a lot of work to do this summer on my own mental perspective. I spent the largest part of my school year counting down the minutes, hours, and days until it was over. I dealt with "mommy guilt" so much that I missed out on opportunities to grow and challenge myself as a teacher. I spent the better part of 9 months complaining to anyone who would listen about how tough my job is. My job is tough, and I know it is...but that should be good enough. I shouldn't have to paint a billboard that reads I WORK HARD. My hard work should speak for itself. 

Though I consider myself a good teacher with new ideas and a fresh perspective, I also consider myself to be a really great pity party thrower. This needs to stop. My dad congratulated me on finishing my 5th year of teaching and told me a rough estimate of how much money I've "made" since college. I quickly laughed and said that I have nothing to show for that. What a foolish statement that was. Aside from the material possessions I have accrued, such as buying a home, buying a car, buying a new camera, getting Noelle anything she could ever want, going to nice restaurants, having meals and clothes, putting gas in the vehicles, taking trips, and purchasing other luxuries that many people would really want, I also have achieved and experienced so much in my 5 years since college. A wedding, pregnancies, watching Luke graduate medical school, great memories with friends...the list goes on. When I look at it all in black and white, I feel quite rich, and quite stupid for making that comment.

Next year, I give myself permission to ENJOY my job and not to feel bad about being a working mother. I don't know how long I will be a working mother. I don't know how many years of teaching I have in me. I don't have a crystal ball and cannot predict the future. I don't want to pay for two in daycare. I don't want to be away from my babies. But this is a choice I am making-- yes, a choice. I could stay at home. In fact, I am only one of two wives in the entire residency who work outside the home. I could make it work on Luke's salary. We made it work on mine for 4 years. However, I am choosing to work because of the fact that I am  good at what I do, I enjoy the adult interaction, and I enjoy (when I let myself) teaching children. Of course I love being with Noelle, and of course I am dreading leaving my new one, but I know that my relationship with Noelle hasn't suffered because of me working. I know that she loves me and she knows that I love her. I know that as a mother, I have a really great career-- there are 365 days in a year and I work 185 outside the home. Not a lot of other jobs allow you to work half the year. This is a blessing, and why I have been overlooking it for so long is beyond me. 

I have been afraid of enjoying working outside the home because it feels like I should just be at home. It feels like I am making the wrong decision by being away from her and allowing "someone else to raise my child." It used to be that stay at home moms were judged because people didn't think they did anything all day except watch soap operas and do laundry (which of course I know that isn't true!), but now I feel like it's the working moms who face criticism because we're not home with our children and breastfeeding all day and blah blah blah. Why can't we as women just support each other? Why can't women who stay at home and women who work outside the home just recognize that we are all humans who contribute to society in our own ways, and we should be valued and respected because of that?? I'm guilty of it all, too...I'm talking to myself...but it's got to change.

I was searching the Internet for some classroom ideas just 20 minutes before starting this entry, and I came across a cute blog that got me all excited for teaching again in the fall. I  then saw the picture and the bio and realized it was a girl who I had known in college and am still Facebook friends with today. She is married and has a little girl, but she still had time to create a cute blog with all kinds of great ideas and sound really excited about her life and her career and her decision to teach despite having a little one at home. I was suddenly inspired by her to be that way-- to embrace everything and realize that I could be like that, too. I could still be head over heels in love with my children and husband, but I could also be a damn good teacher and it's OK to be both. It doesn't have to be either/or. 

So, I have a challenging road ahead of me. I know that my mindset will not change over night...but I know that with positive thinking and positive steps in the right direction, I can turn this around and look forward to a school year full of new ideas, new successes, and a new baby. :-) 

Big word for a little girl

The time had come. I walked into daycare at about 5:00 p.m. on Friday, and my baby girl was crying. This is never a good sight to see...especially when you feel horrible all day for having her in daycare in the first place.

So, I quickly ask what happened, and I was told that Noelle had to be scolded today. SCOLDED! As Noelle was sniffling hard and had tears streaming down her cheeks, I asked what she did. They said that she walked across the room and smacked one of the workers in the face for no reason! Now, I wasn't totally shocked because Noelle does have a "heavy hand" when it comes to hitting. She has been known to hit me on the arm and sometimes the mouth but she usually is giggling and not realizing that hitting is bad. We always take her hands and tell her a stern "no," but we haven't gone much further than that with discipline. I am a really big believer in discipline, but I also really believe in age-appropriate discipline. Children have to understand that what they are doing is wrong for the discipline/punishment to mean anything. And I am not, nor will I ever be, a spanker. Never, ever. Why would I teach my child that hitting is wrong through hitting her?

I digress.

They didn't do anything inappropriate, but they wanted her to say she was sorry. This is a pretty huge concept for a little girl to understand. Because Noelle says any and every word in the dictionary, she did say she was sorry and gave the girl a hug. I then scooped her in my arms and held her, and as she was still sniffling into my shoulder, she kept uttering "sorry....sorry..." Oh, it was the WORST! So painful and heartbreaking to hear your little baby girl crying sorry into your shoulder.

The whole way home she continued to sniffle and say "sorry" every few minutes. I couldn't help but in those moments feel an extreme amount of love and defensiveness for my daughter. I kept telling her how good of a girl she is and how much I love her. I told her hitting isn't nice and it hurts people, but she's not a bad girl.

And then my guilt turned on full blast. I went through all the ways that this incident was my fault. First and foremost, if I didn't choose/have to work, then she wouldn't have been in daycare to begin with. She would have only hit me in the face and I could have dealt with it in my own way. Second of all, if I would have left school early like I wanted to, then I would have been there before the assault was committed. I got there too late, and too late it was.

Ugh.


Sigh.


Sniffle.

If Noelle truly understood the word "sorry," then I would tell her I'm sorry for not being the most perfect mommy on Earth. I'm sorry you have to get up at 6:00 a.m. and go to daycare all day for 9-10 hours. I'm sorry that things are hectic and crazy sometimes and you don't get all of our attention.  I'm sorry that you might think I don't love you as much as the mothers who stay at home love their kids, but Heaven knows that's not the case.

I'm sorry.

Goodbye time

It hits me every morning. Same time. Same place.

It's the feeling I get when the day care door closes and I walk out to my car, right before I drive to school and spend my day with 24 children while someone else spends their day with mine.

The heartache hasn't lessened even one year later. It just doesn't feel right. I trust the day care. I like the people who work there. Noelle likes them, too. But all of that means nothing when I think about how I miss 10 hours of my baby's day. I see her for 30 minutes in the morning and about 2 hours in the evening.

I'll be quite honest. I hate my job right now. And that's exactly what it is...my job. Not a passion. Not a love. Not a calling. It's a job. And it sucks. I'm miserable. I thought this year would be positive and easier because I wouldn't be driving 2 hours a day and spending $300 a month on gas. I thought that it being my 5th year of teaching would make it slightly less taxing on me. I thought I had it under control.

But this year hasn't started off well, and it has nothing to do with my class. It has everything to do with state mandates that would bore/bring anyone to tears. The state has sucked my passion from me, and I can't help but want to cling to my baby and say forget it.

The thought occurred to me on Friday at lunch that I could walk away from all of this right now. I could leave and never come back. I could stay at home and post pictures on Facebook of me playing with my baby, go out and about, do arts and crafts with her, clean my house, put things away, unpack the last boxes, sew like I used to, plan meals ahead of time, eat something for lunch besides grapes, drink a glass of wine and BREATHE. I can't do any of those things the way it stands now. I. can't. breathe.

I don't know how to make it better, and I don't want to plague anyone else with my "issues." I just want to enjoy my life, and no matter how hard I try, I can't.

Tomorrow, 7:00 a.m., which has now become our goodbye time, will come too soon. And I'm not ready.

Mama Bear

On Sunday morning, we were at church. We don't go as much as we used to because my photography sessions sometimes get in the way. However, I had a free Sunday due to rain, and we got to go to St. Simon.

We went ahead and went in the cry room, not because we were worried Noelle would cry, but mainly because we were late and Noelle likes to get up and walk around. She doesn't like to be held much if we aren't going anywhere. So...cry room it was.

Noelle was a perfect angel, per the usual, just looking at her book and making all the old ladies fall in love. There were just a few other children in the room, one looked to be her age, and the others were a couple of years older.

Noelle started taking interest in the toy box, situated in the middle of the room. The other kids were playing there, so I think she wanted in on the action. She would take about 10 steps toward the box, and then she would turn around and come back to us. I try not to hover, so I just let her do her thing. She would then get the courage to go about 20 steps, then come back. Finally, she made it to the box, and she was proud of herself. She was so interested in the used, junky old toys that she dropped her precious stuffed cat Bella on the ground and didn't think twice about it. I saw a little drooling gap-toothed tot with pig tails eyeing Bella, so went and snatched her up before it was too late.

Anyway, my point to all of this is that each time Noelle took her steps toward the box and the other kids, I felt a tightening in my chest. I didn't know why I was having anxiety until I thought about it for a few. I was nervous for Noelle because I wanted the other kids to like her and want to play with her. I couldn't believe I was worrying about this as Noelle is only 14 months old, but the thought of her experiencing rejection at any age or time just made my stomach hurt. I wanted to protect her and tell all the little kids that Noelle had really cool toys and was a nice little girl and she would be a great friend to any of them, but I wanted to see what she would do on her own.

Like a normal 14 month old, she didn't really interact much with the other kids...that is until the little boy who looked to be about her age bumped into her and sent her straight to the ground. No babies were hurt in that collision.

Fast forward a couple of days, and we were at the Castleton Mall play area. It wasn't busy, so we let Noelle get in there. We were close by because that place can get a little crazy. Anyway, she was attempting to climb the two steps up to the slide, and she wasn't quite getting it fast enough for these two kids impatiently waiting behind her. You know the gestures you make when you are walking behind a slow old lady at the mall, and you just want to say, "Move along grandma!"? Well, these kids were doing that to Noelle, and I immediately took on my Mama Bear disguise. I wanted to knock the kids to the ground or tie their shoe laces together, but I gently helped Noelle up the steps and guided her down the slide before Hurry-Up Henry and Impatient Isabelle could hurt Noelle's self-esteem.

If I worry this much about Noelle and how others are treating her now, I can only imagine how my heart will break the first time someone doesn't want to be her friend or says she can't sit at their lunch table or if she gets cut from a team or if a boy breaks up with her. I see kids mistreating other kids all the time in my class and school, and before I had Noelle, I didn't think much about it. Now I find myself counseling my kids, trying to get them to see that their words and actions can be hurtful.

Kids will be kids...until it's your kid, and then it's a different story.

Due.

Last year, this date was Noelle's due date! Now, we all know she came a little early on the 11th, but March 23rd was the day we counted down to and prayed for and anticipated for 9 long months! In honor of this special day, I wanted to take a second to write down some of the things I have learned about growing and raising a baby.

1) Don't buy or wear maternity clothes too soon. You might think you are "huge" at 12 weeks and that you need the elastic pants, but you don't. In fact, you will feel really silly thinking you are "huge" when you look at yourself at 38, 39, or 40 weeks. This would be the definition of huge. Until then, enjoy your little waistline as long as possible. The bump will come.

2) Buy or rent a fetal doppler. It is amazing for your peace of mind. 

3) Unless you are like those women on the crazy TV shows,  your baby will most likely not arrive in 20 minutes. If you go in to be induced at 7 a.m., don't expect a baby by noon. If you get a baby by noon, that is a bonus. 

4) It will take a good 2 or 3 months for that dark line going down your belly to fade. 

5) It is totally normal to cry A LOT in the weeks following the delivery. I did, and I totally thought I was heading toward the whole postpartum depression thing, but after about a month (which is the normal time frame), it all went away. If the "blues" don't go away after a month, talk to your doctor. 

6) It will take the entire first year of your child's life for your body to return back to "normal" and for you to feel "normal." Unless you live in Hollywood. In that case, you will return to "normal" 3 days after the baby is born.

7) As for getting your baby to go to sleep, I wouldn't try to put the baby on a schedule in the first 6 or 8 weeks. Hold the baby and do whatever the baby needs to go to sleep. However, after that, start paying attention to the signals that your baby is tired. Noelle rubs her eyes, and we know it is time. It doesn't matter if it is an hour earlier than normal, she is going to bed when she rubs her eyes. We also put her down awake more often than not. She has learned to fall asleep on her own without us rocking her or holding her.

8) Do not fall into the trap that if your baby is up later, he or she will sleep in longer. No. No. Nope! The opposite will be true! The baby will not sleep deeply and wake up earlier...so now you have just been up later and will wake up earlier! Not good!

9) Even though you will, do not try to compare your child with other children his or her age. Do not get jealous when another child crawls before yours. Unless your doctor is worried, don't give a second thought if your child isn't matching up to the milestones in those little weekly emails you get from Baby Center or Pampers.

10) Above all else, use common sense. 'Nuff said.

Baby Number Two

Don't have a heart attack, Mom. There is no baby number two. This is just me expressing my thoughts on the subject.

I feel and have felt for a while that the decision to have baby number two will be twenty nine times more intense than the decision to have baby number one (i.e. Noelle).

I am hit with conflicting thoughts about the topic. In many ways, I know that I am not ready for a second child. Financially, it scares me. Daycare is expensive. Everything else, I feel I have absorbed just fine in my "budget" (WHAT BUDGET?) by making sacrifices in other areas. But the daycare...holy hell. It sucks. Daycare in general sucks-- not because I think they don't take good care of Noelle, but because I am paying someone else to play with her, see her smiles, hear her giggles, and all the while I am sprouting gray hairs like I can sell them on eBay due my stress at school.

That brings me to my next point. Is it morally correct to have another child when I know that I am not going to be able to stay home with him/her? When I know that this baby will have years of daycare in his/her future? I feel like Noelle is such a trooper and is just going with the flow...and I feel like she is our little battle warrior baby...but why would I subject another child to long days away from their home?

Is Noelle ready to be a big sister? That sentence almost is comical. She is still such a baby herself. But...in 9 months...or a year...or 18 months.... will she be ready? Will she be ready to share us? Should we only have one child?

But then I get into the cold, hard, facts. My pregnancy with Noelle was flawless, including being 7 cm dilated before I even went into active labor. If I can get my mind to forget about the nearly 4 hours of pushing, I think I would just go around being a professional baby-haver. It was that easy and "textbook" as my doctor put it. Noelle has been the perfect baby. Not a health problem...only one sick baby visit in 10 months. Sleeping through the night at 8 weeks. Sleeping the second her body falls into a car seat. Smiling, laughing, waving, giggling, saying "Cat..." she's perfect. Why wouldn't I have another one? Why do I have any reason to believe that any subsequent children won't be this wonderful?

When will I know that we are ready to expand our family? When will my heart with the battle with my head? I find myself feeling the way I did before I got pregnant with Noelle...jealous of the pregnant women I see around me and wondering when it will be my turn.

Seriously...no comments, Mom. ;-)

Up yours, bragging mommies

You know who I really don't like?
People who act like they really aren't bragging, but really they are.
Especially when it comes to their babies.
I just read an article from a "celebrity" saying that her 4 month old is already scooting and she rolled over really early, and "that really frightened me!" Yeah right. You probably get your jollies from telling a parenting website that your 4 month old is scooting, knowing good and well that the majority of people reading it have kids that are almost 7 months and showing no real motivation to crawl (example? me). All of us "normals" are giving you the finger right now.

Look...unless I ask...I don't want to know that your kid started walking at 9 months or sprouted teeth at one week post-womb. I don't want to know that he can say your name and count to ten prior to graduating to size 3 diapers, and I most certainly do not want to hear about how your baby is just a tiny little thing whereas my precious baby girl gets the "she's a big girl!" comment every time we go out.

Yes, I am sensitive...but I am also protective of my daughter's feelings...even at (gasp) 7 months (on Monday)! I don't call her big. I don't call her fat. I don't even really like the word chunky. I love her leg rolls...and I don't care that she isn't crawling yet.

(ok...maybe I care just a little...but she's perfect just the way she is).

Epic Fail

You know you need a weekend if...

you forget your daughter's bottles at home on the counter and have nothing for the little girl to eat at daycare.

or...

You know you need a weekend if...

the day after you forget her bottles at home, you send her to daycare without her pacifier.

Yes. That lady needing the weekend? It's me (just visualize me jumping up and down, waving my hands frantically, shouting, "me! me! me!")

I don't know where my mind has been lately. I have been so forgetful. Yes, I left Noelle's bottles at home on Thursday. Thankfully, River of Life had extra bottles and I had extra formula there. Today, I left home without her pacifier, but they went to Wal-Mart to get her a new one. Isn't that great of them? I'm telling you...this is a WONDERFUL daycare center. They love Noelle like she is their own. What a relief.

It's good to know someone else will pick up the mother baton when you drop it...
in a puddle of mud...
as it breaks into 1000 pieces.

In life, I feel you can either do 100 different jobs and none of them very well, or you can do a few jobs and do them with 100% of your being. I think I have been trying to do the whole have a 100 jobs and just give a little of myself to each of them, rather than actually focus on the most important roles I have (wife, mother, teacher, friend) and give all I have. Oh well. Isn't that part of life? Learning each day and figuring out how tomorrow is gonna be better?

So...even though I failed at the bottle thing and the pacifier thing...
...and even though Luke and I had PB&J for dinner this week...
...and even though the laundry is piling up and the cats don't have food...
...I have succeeded in one thing, and one thing only.
...Opening a bottle of wine and pouring me a glass.

Happy Friday!

Days gone by...

Well, another Rubbermaid tub full of Noelle's clothes that no longer fit has been filled up and stowed away in the attic. I took her newborn bottles out of the cabinet and put away her newborn toys like her tummy time mat and her bouncy seat. The Boppy is gone away, too.

I find myself choked up and sad. My little girl is growing so quickly, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I remember buying all of the stuff or getting it at showers and just visualizing what my baby would look like with it. Now she has outgrown all of the things that used to soothe her, entertain her, and meet her needs.

We used to turn the bouncy seat on and let it vibrate as the little one slept in complete comfort. Now it is in a trash bag and the batteries are completely dead. I know (hope, pray) that another little baby will enjoy that bouncy seat someday, but it will always be Noelle's...and now she has moved on to bigger and better things.

She went to bed so early tonight. I hardly had any time with her. I have peeked in on her a number of times tonight, in between sorting through her clothes and pulling out the things that she can no longer wear. I stopped at each item, remembering the time when she wore it...and realizing that she will never wear it again. Of course, she has a new bag of Carter's clothes in larger sizes, but that's beside the point...

Noelle is more joy than I ever thought possible. She is the bright spot in a world full of darkness. Her smile just melts my heart, and her tears rip me into pieces. I can't believe we go for her 6 month check up tomorrow. I'm so proud yet so sad all at the same time.

Each new day brings a new development...a new milestone...a new memory, but my living room now seems much emptier without that bouncy seat.

A New Normal

On my drive to school, I do a lot of thinking. I spend a lot of time in my car alone, so for now it is where I can best sort through my thoughts and feelings.

This morning, I started to feel sorry for myself again. I was bitter that most of my colleagues hadn't even gotten up yet and I was already on the road heading to school. I was sad that Noelle was slumped over in her car seat, fast asleep, while most other babies were home in their cribs. I was angry that I have already filled up my car three times in the past week, and I hate spending all that money on gas. I started about thinking about how short my evenings are by the time I get home and get Noelle set for the evening and how there's never enough time to do what I want.

Then I caught myself. I recently saw Eat, Pray, Love with family and there was a quote that really stuck with me. He said, "Choose your thoughts like you choose your clothes." It never really dawned on me that I could control what thoughts went into my head. I always thought that you felt how you felt and nothing could change that. Well, this morning I tried to choose my thoughts. I convinced myself that this was just my new normal.

Yes, normally, people don't get up at 5:00 a.m. to go to work. Normally, they don't travel an hour each day. Normally, people don't have to take their kids with them for 2 hours in a car each day. Normally, teachers can leave at 3:10 and be home by 3:30 in the afternoon. Normally, people don't fill their cars up 3 times a week with gas. But...this is my new normal. It's my life. I am no longer waiting for my life to complete itself. That happened on March 11, 2010. It is now my turn to live it up as much as I can...to enjoy all the time I do have with Luke, Noelle, friends, and other family. This is my challenge to be productive and efficient so that I can have more precious minutes for the important things in life. This is my new normal.

Of course, I would love to get up at 7 a.m. and be home before 4 p.m. and work 5 minutes from my home. I hope to do that someday. But, until then, I will be thankful for my job. I will cherish any and all minutes I have in the day to be with the ones I love, and I will do anything in my power to appreciate this life I have.

Series of Unfortunate Events

Yesterday was my first day of school with my students. I put on a cute pink shirt I bought at Ann Taylor Loft this summer. I liked it.

Thankfully, I decided to wear my hair curly yesterday because it ended up raining, HARD, all the way to school. Straight hair would have been a hot (and frizzy) mess.

I took Noelle to daycare for the 3rd day in a row. No, it hasn't gotten easier. I still hate taking her there, despite the nice people she's with and the smooth transition we have had. I still wish that I was the one with her all day. But...that's another story. So, upon getting her out of the car seat and getting ready to hand her over, I thought that her butt felt warm. At that moment, her teacher pointed out that she was peeing on the floor! Her diaper had leaked, and the pee was dripping out onto the floor and all over my shirt! Hey, Kids...welcome to my room...oh, that smell? Just my kid's pee on my shirt! I still have faith in the Target dipes. It was a bad diaper job at 5:00 a.m. that I did when I was half awake.

I left the baby girl and headed to school. The kids came filing in. We had a pretty good day. It was a very typical first day of school. They were all excited and talkative and ready to impress me. I have 23 students.

The day ended...I ran out of there to go get Noelle. I am taking advantage of not having much to do in my room while I can and leaving as soon as possible. When I got there, they were ready to give her the last bottle, so I got to feed her. While I was feeding her, a dad came to get his cute little girl...maybe about 16 months old. The little girl was so excited to see her daddy that she ran for the door. She tripped over her clumsy feet and fell head first into the door. She smacked it HARD! She then let out one of those silent screams...you know the ones where the mouth is gaping open, tears are pouring out, and no sound is coming out of the mouth. It was so sad. Her daddy scooped her up and held her while she caught her breath and screamed bloody murder. I seriously wanted to cry for her. My empathy button is really sensitive these days. A kid fell out of his chair yesterday on the first day of school and instead of wanting to reprimand him like I would have in the past for not having "four on the floor," I wanted to cry because he was probably embarrassed. I see Noelle in all of my students now. Well...not the kid I find incredibly annoying.

Anywho...I got home, went to Zumba, then began the rat race of trying to get dinner made, Noelle a bath, and the bottles and lunch ready for the next day. I was very stressed and multiple mental breakdowns occurred. Luke got the bottles ready for the next day, which I was thankful for.

We got Noelle down and everything was fine...until we discovered the cats had been peeing in her bike trailer we just bought. Great. GREAT. Cat pee...such a fine fragrance. One more thing to add to the list of "clean thoroughly or BURN."

This morning, I went to get the bottles out of the fridge. I happened to open the bottle bag to check them, and I found them floating in a sea of formula. One of her new bottles totally cracked up the side and leaked formula everywhere! I am glad I checked though, because I would have sent that bag to day care and she would have been short one bottle!

I swear, I was so upset and crazy this morning...it's amazing that I wasn't served with divorce papers today citing, "My wife is a crazy b$%*&" as the cause. I cried my whole way to school...feeling sorry for myself and our situation. I am tired. I am not in the routine yet. I am trying to figure out how to be a wife, mother, teacher, friend, and still have time for myself at the end of the day. It was a really tough way to start the day.

But on the way home, I found myself laughing about it. Now, either I have been granted some kind of sweet ass grace, or I am just going to straight to the insane asylum...but either way, I am happy I could laugh this afternoon.

Now...on to get Noelle out of the car seat (where she is napping). Poor girl...her little butt will probably look like a baboon's by the time this year's over from being in the car seat so long. I wonder if they make an ointment for that...

Live & Learn

When Noelle was born, she only wore one kind of diapers. Pampers. Preferrably, Pampers Swaddlers....so soft and even with that handy yellow line that turned colors when she peed. Oh yes, Pampers, you made my life easier. I wasn't wild about the baby Sesame Street characters at the waist, but at least it wasn't that hellish Winnie the Pooh and his little friends (i.e. Huggies are not allowed in our home).

Then, as Noelle got bigger, I grew tired of the Pampers price tag. Yeah, I used coupons, but still...I much preferred spending money on a cute little dress for the nugget or a gallon of ice cream instead of making sure she had a fancy booty. So, I decided to give Luvs a try. They were a few bucks cheaper than Pampers, so I thought, "Why not?" Tried them...luv'd them...I saw no difference between them and the Pampers Baby Dry.

So, after a couple of weeks with Luvs, I tested my luck once more. I thought to myself, "I could save even more money if I tried Target diapers!" Yes, I did the unthinkable. I bought generic diapers. I got just a small pack to see if they were worth anything...and to my surprise, they were great! No leaks, not stinky, and they even fit her better than the Luvs did. Not to mention the fact that they are super soft and have a cute blue and green polka dot design on the entire diaper. And the price? Around $7-$8 cheaper than Pampers. That's a savings of about $15-$20 a month on diapers.

Now, maybe in the beginning when Noelle's poop was runny and highly prone to leaks and PUBS and all kinds of traumas, the Target dipes might not have worked, but now, they are just fine....and I have no problem saying that I will put generic diapers on her now so that we can have more money for more important things later. Also...I have tried the Up & Up (Target brand) wipes, and they are lovely. They are the same exact weight and texture of Pampers wipes. In a related note, I buy Meijer brand formula as well because it has the SAME EXACT ingredients as the Enfamil Premium with the same exact amounts...and it is literally under $12 for the large can and Enfamil is $23 for the large. Say wah?

All that being said (giggles nervously)...I did succumb to the Cynthia Rowley for Target designer diapers (by Pampers). They were sooooOOOOOooooo cute...and she can't even fit in them yet....but I thought for "special occasions" (OK...let's face it...her wedding wouldn't be special enough to wear these expensive things) they would be adorable. So what if I paid nearly $1 PER diaper? Luke's exact words were, "She better be pooping golden turds in those things!"

So...my point in this post is this...don't be afraid to try generic...it's not as bad as you think and doesn't scream "I'm a bad mom!" It might, however, scream, "I needed some extra money for a shopping trip and potty training my 4 month old wasn't a realistic option so I got the cheapest diapers I could find, k?"

Where's My Mom of the Year Award?

They must have forgotten to put it in the mail...?

Because I totally won the award yesterday.

I took my daughter to school and let one of my old students (a 4th grader) babysit her in my room while I worked.

I dropped a toy on her sweet little face while in her pack & play.

I signed her up for Kids' Club at the gym so that I could take her while I go to Zumba starting Wednesday.

AND Luke texted me while I was at Zumba last night...

"Noelle rolled over!!!!!"

I missed it.

So...about that award...?