Last night away (for now)

I have nothing left to say. I am so ready to go home I don’t think I can even whine about it anymore. Okay, that isn’t true. The Boy is sick tonight. DH told me that shortly after our evening Skype video call, The Boy told DH that he needed to take a nap. This of course is unheard of from The Boy. His temp at the time was 103 F. DH gave him some Motrin and put him to bed. Checked on him an hour later, woke him up to put him in his pjs, and his temp was 100. He went right back to sleep. DH had warned me that The Boy was sick before I saw him on the webcam, but he was just so lethargic, it made me incredibly sad. I just wanted to scoop him up and cuddle him. I hate not being there for my kids. There really is no amount of professional satisfaction that is worth this.

I talked to my Mom today to make sure she made it back home safely. We started talking about my frustration with work lately, and she started telling me about how she felt when she traveled for work when my brother and I were young. She didn’t travel much, but even the small amount she did really left an impression on her. She hated being away from her kids. I worry that this is the crap I will obsess about when my kids are grown. I know I am not going to dream about the projects I completed, but I will think back about how my children were at the ages of 3 and 1. I want to remember it, and I fear that if I am gone, I will miss too much to remember.

It sounds crazy, but I have been thinking more and more about the idea of trying to get an education degree. I think I would like to teach math. I haven’t talked to DH about it yet. I know he will think it is a crazy idea. I don’t really want to go back to school, and it really is nothing more than a pipe dream. Teaching secondary Math would likely be a big huge pay cut, and maybe I am not even really suited for something like that. It is still fun to consider it.

I’m sure my departure from this lonely hotel room will mean that my blog will be abandoned for at least the next few days. I will try to write more often though. I get to go home tomorrow!!!!!

Three down, Two to go

Well, since I posted my countdown ramblings the last two nights I feel obliged to continue the saga (so as to not let my two readers down). It turns out that I have nothing even remotely witty to write about, so I will just share a typical day of this traveling consultant with you (with client references and specific information about what I do removed):

Wake up at 5:45 am to the sound of my cell phone’s alarm clock.
Turn off cell phone alarm, which I have to get out of bed to do (why is it that hotels never have available outlets right next to the bed so I can leave my phone plugged in all night?)
Turn on the tv and watch local news until I can force myself up and into the shower
Shower
Get dressed
Put on make up, put gel in my hair, brush hair (I am very low maintenance these days)
Turn on laptop, check email, check at least one of my online forums
Turn off laptop, pack up and get ready to leave hotel for the day
Head to the hotel restaurant for breakfast
Eat breakfast with my colleague
Travel to client site
Work all day at client site
Return to hotel
Change into running clothes
Go for a run
Return to hotel
Take a shower
Get dressed again (no make up or hair fixing at this point)
Turn on laptop, check email, return emails if necessary, check forums
Get dinner, walk from hotel, or drive for take-out
Return to hotel
Watch tv, surf internet, etc.
Skype video call with the kids and DH
Miss kids terribly, wish I could be home with them
Remind myself about how many days I have left before I can go home
Repeat

One or two days of that can be a nice break in my hectic life, but repeatedly it just drains me. I would much rather deal with the chaos at home than live in a hotel for days on end. Whine/over, three days down and just two more to go.

Two down three to go

My self-appointed task for this week is now to find Halloween costumes for the kids. The Boy has been saying for almost a month that he wants to be Buzz Lightyear for Halloween, and I gladly stole the idea from a friend to make The Girl be Jessie from Toy Story 2. I briefly tried to convince The Boy to be Woody, but it was no use, He. Is. Going. To. Be. BUZZZZZ! I found a Buzz costume at Target last Friday, and even bought it, but when I got it home I decided it was too cheap. I ended up ordering the Buzz Costume from the Disney Store online instead. Now I have to find a Jessie costume for The Girl. Disney does have a Jessie costume on their website, but the smallest size is the equivalent of 2T and I’m sure it would be too big for my little peanut. I noticed that Old Navy has some decent looking cowboyish costumes, but on my last visit to an Old Navy back home they didn’t have the right size for The Girl. They don’t have the right size online either. In my infinite wisdom I decided to seek out an Old Navy where I am this week, so I did just that. Unfortunately they didn’t have any cowboy costumes. They did have some cute baby cowboy boots though.

My MIL offered to help us make cow print chaps if we can’t find anything suitable, but I have visions of The Girl’s costume being a huge fiasco with lots of last minute running around involved. Oh well, it isn’t like I have anything better to do right? We planned the next few workshops with our client this afternoon, and I thankfully managed to avoid planning one that would have me away on Halloween itself. I do think I will have to miss the annual daycare Halloween party though (if it happens the week before Halloween). I’m sad about this, but I managed to get 1.5 weeks of workshops condensed to 4 days so I do feel good about that.

I can’t believe it is only Tuesday. It feels like I have been on this trip for a week already. The worst part is that we are only working half day sessions with the client, then using the afternoons to catch up on documentation and other miscellaneous tasks. If we were busy all day I think I would feel better about the length of this trip. I really think we could have squeezed all we need to accomplish into 3 days, which would have had me home two nights sooner. Okay, I should stop wallowing again, perhaps a Skype call with the kids will make me feel better? Two down, three to go.

One down four to go

I am traveling for work yet again. This trip has me away from home for five nights. If I didn’t enjoy what I do so much I think it would drive me crazy, because even though I do like what I do I don’t like being away from my family. It helps that my DH doesn’t complain about me being away, and having to step-up and take care of the kids solo. What doesn’t help is the fact that my Mom came to visit last week, and she is still at my house until Wednesday. When she was contemplating a trip I told her to just buy the tickets and I would work around her dates, unfortunately a new project kicked off and I was asked to be on it. I had been very low on work for most of the summer, so I was definitely due for a new project. I just wish I didn’t have to leave during her once a year visit. Thankfully DH took a few days off of work so my Mom could spend a few more days with the kids (the real reason for the visit).

Tonight I am just hanging out in my hotel room, watching some television and surfing the internet at the same time. I picked up a burrito at a fast food place, and then got some milk, a two liter of Diet Root Beer, and some animal crackers to round out my evening. I am really living the high life now. Business travel is not exactly exotic. I spend each night thinking about how many more nights I need to pass before I get to leave. Certainly there are some perks to being kid-free for a few nights, like having time to post here for one. I would trade the perks for being able to give my kids kisses good night in person every time though. Oh well, at this point whining isn’t helping my mood or the situation, so I should stop wallowing. Perhaps I should find something more productive to occupy my “free-time” with. Maybe I could start scrapbooking, but then I would have to haul all of that stuff with me, and I’m guessing I wouldn’t enjoy that. Maybe I could load all of my digital photos onto my laptop hard drive so I could categorize them and apply labels so it will be easy to find pictures of The Girl when she was 2 months old on a whim, or pictures of The Boy and The Girl together last Halloween. Granted we do have the pictures sorted by date already, but the finer categories seems like a good idea, maybe I could even order prints from our digital photos for the first time since The Boy was over one year old (yes we are bad parents, with absolutely no printed snapshots of our youngest child). Yes, I will definitely do that, of course it needs to wait until my next trip. Someone needs to hold me to that.

DH is getting ready to make a trip to the Far East next month. I guess I will have a new perspective for what it is like to be alone with our kids for an entire week. I don’t think I will get the same level of sympathy everyone I meet while I travel seems to confer to my DH though. For some reason it is a huge enigma to others that a man can handle tending for his children for a week. When clients find out I have children, they inevitably ask “what do you do with your kids when you are away?” I typically mention that my DH takes care of them, and try to change the subject. It seems like a very odd question to ask someone. It is as if they assume I must have a full time nanny in order to be able to travel. I don’t think anyone would ask a male consultant what he does with his kids while he travels, they would just assume that his wife takes care of things while he is away. Why do they ask me? It just seems weird. Yes, I am the only female consultant in my very small company, but I am not the only woman with kids who has to travel for work. I suppose the super-woman would want to keep traveling to prove something to the rest of the world, but really I don’t want to be that woman. I want to be a good Mom, and I hope that by traveling when I need to, I am not damaging my children in some way. I don’t think that I am. Anyway, it is one down and four more to go until I can go home and squeeze my kids tight again.

How much is too much?

In the process of potty training The Boy, we have purchased a fair number of small toys that he earns as prizes when he fills up his sticker chart with stickers. The first time he filled up his sheet we were really generous and gave him an Emily wooden train from the Thomas line of trains. The next time he earned a small die cast Tow Mater from the Disney/Pixar Cars movie, then a small die cast Lightning McQueen, oh and I think there was a Toby wooden train in the mix too. Now he is requesting specific items, and we foolishly promised them to him. First he wanted Mack (the semi truck and trailer that transports Lightning McQueen in the movie), and now he wants Sally and Doc. Of course this can all be blamed on DH and me. We should have just told him that he can’t pick his potty prizes, that he just gets what he gets, but we offered specific items so now he has an expectation that he will get the specific prize he wants. Foolish, foolish, foolish parents! The hilarity comes in when you hear that in order to find Mack, we visited not one, not two, but 5 local Targets, 2 Walmarts, 2 Toys R Us stores, and called the Disney Store (not to mention some serious web sleuthing). Thankfully DH scored a Mack for somewhere in the neighborhood of $15. The Boy was happy with Mack, and is still happy with Mack, but has started telling us that he will get Sally next. The tough part is that all of these little $2.99 die cast cars are sold out everywhere because, as the nice woman who pointed DH towards the Mack at Toys R Us explained, collectors are buying them up in mass quantities. As DH and I were discussing our strategy to find Sally and Doc we finally had the discussion about all of this being too much for The Boy. We are spoiling him by giving him so many toys, and making each toy he has less special because there is always a new one that will come along next week. Heck if he really forces himself he can earn several each week, but he might end up with hemorrhoids in the process (he now gets 1 for having a dry Pull-up, 1 for peeing, and 2 for having a BM). Soon he will catch on that if he drinks mass quantities of water he will have to pee more often, but we aren’t quite there yet.

The bigger issue of course is the how much is too much issue. DH and I both grew up in families where money was an object. My often told example of how poor my family was is that when we ran out of milk we just made another pitcher of it. Yes, we drank powdered milk. Adding water to the milk flakes was a common task I performed. I’m not sure when we changed to regular milk, but it must have been somewhere in late elementary school for me. I know my parents economized as much as possible, and my brother and I didn’t get everything we asked for. However, I can’t say that I ever felt deprived. One of my favorite toys as a child was a Noah’s ark that was filled with small plastic animals (I liked the animals…no religious meaning to me!), and my Mom confessed to me recently that it was a garage sale find. I also remember receiving a homemade Cabbage Patch Doll when they were all the rage. Even though I received several real Cabbage Patch Dolls subsequently, she was always my favorite (I think I still have her in a dusty old box in the basement to subject upon my kids when they can appreciate her). I didn’t even realize that we didn’t have much money until I reached junior high, and I wasn’t even close to wearing the “right” clothes. I think I managed a pair of Guess jeans in 7th grade from a local second hand store, but I had to use my babysitting money to get them. DH can recount similar stories of getting not quite what he asked for at Christmas and his Birthday, and he has horror stories about having to buy clothes at Fleet Farm (shudder).

How do people strike a balance between feeling good that they can provide extras for their children, and providing so much that the things are no longer valued? DH and I are finding this very difficult lately. The Boy is old enough to understand that we can buy him new toys, and he realizes that he can make requests. We are smart enough (I think) to realize that we shouldn’t buy him new toys whenever he asks for them, and that we should buy him new toys far less often than we currently do. However, it is fun to buy him new toys. It is fun to watch his reaction as he flutters with excitement playing with the new thing for the first 5 minutes. Of course we realize that the new toy eventually becomes old toy and collects dust at the bottom of the toy bin. In some ways I think it would be easier if we just couldn’t afford to buy him new things so often, but as a result of our dual incomes we can afford it. We buy new things for ourselves when we want to, though we both have horribly old wardrobes, and really don’t buy much for ourselves aside from lunches out and the occasionally Caribou Coffee. We are both hoarders, and automatically invest a good chunk of our income automatically each month. Buying toys for our children will not break us financially. It could turn our kids into spoiled brats though.

I want my kids to grow up knowing that money doesn’t grow on trees. I want them to realize that there is a cost for all of the little trinkets they covet. I think this means that DH and I need to start putting more of the money we would spend on toys into their college accounts. We are not doing them any favors by indulging their every whim, even though they do get big smiles on their faces when we do. I want my kids to have nice things, but I don’t want them to think it is their birthright. While I entered junior high wearing the “wrong” clothes, and my parents couldn’t afford to buy me the “right” clothes, we will be able to afford the “right” clothes. The struggle will be to teach our kids that there really is no such thing as the “right” clothes or things. Our possessions do not make us good people; in fact they can make us bad people if we aren’t careful. I don’t want my kids to be ridiculed by their classmates, but I want them to be able to stand up to those who are ridiculing others. Mostly I want my kids to be above all of that junior high bullshit.

A good friend of mine was the target of a clothes chart made by several of her classmates in 5th or 6th grade. They kept track of her outfits so they could make fun of the fact that she wore the same things multiple times in one week. This friend now has the means to afford plenty of her own clothes, but it obviously left a big mark on her for many years. How do I teach my kids that making a clothes chart is a ghastly, evil thing to do? I suppose the answer is that I need to model my own behavior in such a way that they see we aren’t better than anyone else. If I can really get my kids to understand this, I will be happy. I hope for my kids to understand that life is so much more than the labels on your clothes imply. I know the answer lies in me not making a big deal out of labels, and designer outfits. Even though we can afford to buy them Polo, we need to buy them and us Target clothes as well, because it really doesn’t matter. If I can teach them that being kind to others is paramount, I think I will have done my job…and now I am rambling.

Heresy

I will preface this post with the fact that I am not a Christian, and am not really sure what I believe in terms of a higher power, so take it for what it is worth. A recent topic on one of the message boards I frequent got me thinking about the Christian Bible. I make no claims to be a biblical scholar, nor have I read more than scant passages when forced to in the process of being confirmed or at the various bible camps I was tricked into attending in my youth. My view of the bible is that it is an old piece of historical fiction, or if you must it could be a loose biography based on 3rd or 4th hand accounts. I’m not basing my view on anything concrete, just vague recollections about how it was transcribed. So with my view in mind I find it mind boggling when other people quote bible verses as “proof” of some point they are trying to make. As far as I’m concerned they could be quoting Moby Dick to me, as it would have the same impact (well if they quoted Moby Dick I might be more inclined to listen). I am convinced that you can find a bible passage to support whatever agenda you are trying to push. I could probably scan through the latest novel I read to find quotes that would support my views on life as well. So what exactly does it prove? It proves nothing.

Why I am bothering to write this post at all has partially to do with the fact that I get very annoyed when people quote bible passages to me, claim to follow the teachings in it to the letter, but in reality do not follow all of the teachings. They follow some of the teachings, and use the bible as a weapon to make them feel superior to others who have “not seen the light.” They tell other people that they will be going to hell if they don’t accept Jesus Christ as their lord and savior. They say they feel compelled to share this because they want everyone else to be able to join them in heaven. I’m not quite sure why they want me to join them in heaven when clearly I am evil incarnate, and not worthy of joining them in this special place. I do take slight comfort in the fact that I will not have to spend my eternity with such close-minded people. I am fairly confident that most of my friends and family will join me in hell, so at least I will have company.

It all makes me think of a recent blog post from a friend of mine. I’d link to it, but I don’t want her to get any sort of religious wrath for what I am writing. I hope she doesn’t mind, but I am stealing a passage from her post in which she describes leadership training she is taking part in:

There are 7 levels and, according to Torbert, the largest percentages of people tend to think at the Achiever (4) or Expert (3)level. That’s great because we need experts and achievers but, sometimes it can be difficult to solve a problem when you are that close to it. Achievers and Experts tend to perceive their own way as the only way (hey, they are the experts after all) and are more interested in results rather than investigating other possibilities.

Some verbal cues that you are thinking in the Expert logic is “yes, but…” That’s a pretty good clue that you’re not really listening, or if you are, it is only to try and find fault with the other person’s argument. Achiever’s say “we can agree to disagree” which also indicates that you’re really not interested in the other person’s point of view.

This captures so clearly my frustration when I get into discussions with people who are trying to push their religious views upon me. I could come up with 1000 valid points as to why they should be more open-minded, and perhaps even concede that Christianity may not be the only way to avoid an afterlife burning in hell, but they will always respond with “yes, but…” They aren’t listening, just parroting what they have read, what they have been parroted by others, the discussion is useless. Of course on the flipside I do have to acknowledge that it is possible that they are right, that I will spend an eternity in hell because I have refused to come to jesus. I guess that is the risk I will take. It is good for me to try my hardest to see the flipside; otherwise I just go down my own path of “yes, but…” and don’t really listen to their points of view. It reminds me that it is not helpful to find evidence that the bible isn’t meant to be taken literally because then I am trying to push my own agenda. I certainly don’t have all of the answers. As much as I believe that we should strive to be good people, and try our hardest to just do as we would have others do to us, that is not enough for some. So while they might challenge me to read the bible so I can see for myself why I need to be saved, I also challenge them to read the bible and follow all of it not just the parts they have cherry picked as interesting.

International differences

Life has been busy lately, or at least it has felt that way to me. I'm actually on an international trip for work as I type, and happen to have just a few minutes before meeting some colleagues for dinner. I miss the kids terribly, but because I've been fairly busy on this trip I haven't quite reached the point of "if I don't go home this instant I will surely die from not seeing my children for so many days." Anyway, since I am in Europe for the first time in my life I thought I would explore the obvious differences I have noticed in my few days here.

1. The first thing I noticed was in getting off of the airplane when I arrived in Stockholm, people don't practice the, what I thought was universal, "let the people in front of your row out of the plane before you barrel through to get off the plane." I was a little ticked to not be able to get out of the plane when it was my turn per se, and couldn't believe that the people in the rows in front of me were allowing people from the back of the plane to get off before them. I have traveled extensively by airplane in the US, and this practice is not even questioned there. I also experienced a similar thing when trying to get off of the express train from the airport into the city, I was basically dumbfounded. My colleague thinks this might just be a big city thing, but since I have been to plenty of big cities in the US I don't think it is.

2. People assume I can speak Swedish, but are very polite when they realize I can't and quickly/easily switch to English. I am very thankful for this, and I think more than makes up for people wanting to get the hell off of the airplane.

3. It is very common for people to drink beer on their lunch breaks here. I am told it is a weak beer (perhaps what we would call 3-2 beer, but I'm not sure), but I was absolutely shocked to see my Swedish colleagues drinking beer at lunch (and more shocked that it was just included with the special they ordered). This just doesn't happen in the US, although I'm sure many people would like it to.

4. The hotel rooms don't have sheets on the beds. Instead they have thin comforters with duvet covers on them. This wouldn't even bother me except for the fact that I am so very used to cranking up the cold air in hotel rooms to help me sleep better, and here there is no A/C in the rooms. I wake up all hot and sweaty because of the comforter (if there were sheets I would just use a sheet as I just HAVE to have some sort of cover when I sleep), open the window, then stay awake because of street noise.

5. I have no concept for how much money I am spending when I use Swedish currency, this despite having converted some money and knowing that conversion rate.

6. In many ways the climate/scenery here feels like I could be in Northern Minnesota and not in Sweden at all. The trees are the same, the ducks are the same, and the weather is similar. If not for the fabulous old buildings I might even be fooled.

I'm sure there are more, but those are all I can think off right now.

Hot and cute

It is so hot here today that I feel like I might melt every time I step outside. It is absolutely yucky out. Forget about feeling a little uncomfortable during a run, the heat makes it downright dangerous to exercise outdoors. Yuck. Blech. Did I mention it is hot? I couldn’t even let The Boy wear his new “I do all of my own stunts” t-shirt today because it is black, and since they will likely venture outdoors at daycare I felt it was inappropriate to dress him in the hottest color available in his wardrobe. He did wear his brand new Stride Rite “running” shoes though, as that was my final bribe to get him out the door more quickly. Who knew he would be so enamored by his shoes that he would practically fly out the door to daycare rather than meandering or worse whining about it. Anyway, I hope the heat breaks soon because I’m done with summer. I’m ready for fall, have no need for hot weather and high humidity. Of course I want fall to last for 6 months and be more of the Indian summer variety than the frigid Northwoods variety, but I digress. I was getting into a nice little routine of running outside immediately after work, but now I’m hunkering down in the basement to run on the treadmill which is not nearly as interesting. Oh well, I’m sure the weather will change eventually, it can’t stay hot forever since this is the frozen tundra after all.

Apparently I have run out of all interesting things to write in my blog, as I’ve now resorted to blogging about the weather. I’m not sure what that says about me, but to make it not completely about the weather I will add a little potty training update. After I complained about The Boy not being potty trained, I decided to hand the task of training him over to DH. DH accepted the task, read the Potty Training for Dummies book, and has now developed his own game plan. He has decided that we need to teach The Boy how to get dressed/undressed on his own before we make the leap to potty training. The Boy seems fairly interested in dressing himself, but since I am impatient and often running late for work I really have to force myself to let him do it himself. He often gets his shirt partly on, then exclaims “Mommy do it.” It is so much easier to just do it for him, but I must persevere, and I must just gently assist rather than doing it for him. Hopefully DH is right and this new skill will translate to being more ready for the big potty training adventure. With any luck the boy will be self-sufficient in no time. I mean he already wakes up on Saturdays does a quick pass through our bedroom to see if we are awake (I pretend to be asleep of course), then returns to his room, turns on his light and plays with his trains for a while. I figure he gives us an extra 30 minutes of sleep, so I’m all for it. He sometimes makes a detour through The Girl’s room, and will wake her up if she is sleeping. At first I wasn’t thrilled with this, but last weekend he woke her up and kept her entertained for a good 20 minutes. When I finally went in her room to investigate (they were having WAY too much fun), he was in her crib and was prompting her to play with various toys he must have thrown over the side of the crib before he climbed in. So.incredibly.cute.words.cannot.express.just.how.cute.it.was. I now have dreams of the two of them heading downstairs on their own, getting their own breakfasts, and letting me sleep until after 7 am on a Saturday! It is only a dream, but man it is a good one.

HGTV

It is summer, and *newsflash* there is nothing on TV. Seriously – nothing. Yes, we get by with a few recorded episodes of The Closer, Monk, and let’s not forget a new season of Entourage, but this is the far cry from the hum of the DVR during the rest of the year. What happens in our house is that the television stays mostly off until the children go to bed, I turn to good old reliable HGTV, and then surf the internet on my laptop. I don’t even really watch any shows, just keep it on to keep me company while DH is in the other room playing a computer game or reading a book. Of course it has now gotten so bad that I have seen almost all of the shows on HGTV more than once, so it doesn’t even qualify as background noise anymore without annoying me. The Discovery Channel has been getting more airplay lately as a result. I’ve always liked Myth Busters, and have now really started to enjoy Dirty Jobs, and some other show about crab fishing in the waters off of Alaska –who knew the price of Alaskan king crab is actually justified. Of course all of this mindless TV airplay makes me feel slightly guilty that I don’t have a more productive use of my time after the kids are in bed and before I go to bed. I suppose I could take up knitting, but who am I kidding. It is actually really relaxing to just sit and do nothing for an hour or so every day. I’m thinking I shouldn’t mess with it.

Racing again

After a long hiatus I have decided to run a race again. If memory serves, the last race I ran was Grandma’s Marathon in 2004. I’m not sure why I haven’t run a race since then, other than maybe the fact that I got pregnant with The Girl just a few months later. Of course The Boy was just 4 months old when I ran my first race after his birth, and Grandma’s was almost exactly one year after his birth. This time around I didn’t feel compelled to prove that I could get back into shape so quickly, so I haven’t pushed myself too much. Yes, I was running just 2.5 weeks after The Girl was born, but I haven’t run anything over maybe 9 miles since that 2004 marathon. I suppose it is time for me to test the waters again. I’m registered for a 10 mile race in early October, so I have some incentive to start increasing my weekend long run again. I would like to finish in 90 minutes or less, but I don’t intend on fretting about it too much. My new motto is that running should be my stress-release not my stress inducer. I hope I can increase my mileage and keep it fun. My Type A personality just likes to kick in and find training plans online though…so far I haven’t even Googled it, any bets as to how long it takes me to do so?

There is some sick twisted sense of pride that kicks in when I meet/exceed a running goal. However, I never felt that pride when I finished either of my marathons. Training for the marathons was like having a second part-time job that I didn’t enjoy very much. I had training plans in Excel looming over me, and Hal Higdon words of wisdom ingrained in my head. Both experiences left me saying something to the effect of Why in the hell did I do that to myself? I know I am capable of working towards a running goal without torturing myself, and I intend to try it once again.

Potty Training Drop Out

I like to think that I am a reasonable person (which of course doesn’t make it true), so am I being unreasonable to think that The Boy is ready to be potty trained? He is three, and my newly purchased copy of Potty Training for Dummies seems to imply that all rational people start the potty training process at the age of two (yes I actually bought a Dummy book for this task). I decided to skip the readiness chapter, because he is three for Pete’s sake! We have had some form of a potty since he was maybe 18 months old and I had silly illusions that he would magically potty train himself by 2.5. Sadly it didn’t happen. The Girl was born last year, so we followed the much touted advice of “don’t even bother training him now because he will just regress when the baby is born,” and it has worked well in that for the past 14 months we have been busily diapering two children. It is getting old, and since I can have long conversations with The Boy I’ve decided he is certainly capable of emptying his bladder and bowels into the toilet.

So the fun begins. I should add that a younger boy at daycare started wearing big-boy-underwear to daycare last week, so perhaps I felt like a slacker for not being more proactive about The Boy’s potty progress. Anyway, I’m basically clueless and so is the ever helpful DH. I got some advice online and from our wonderful DCP that perhaps in The Boy’s case we would just need to switch him to big-boy-underwear (which I will now refer to as BBU so I don’t have to type is anymore!) to see what happens. Hmmm, what happens is that The Boy pees all over your living room couch while watching Toy Story for the 1000th time, and I have a little fit about it and put The Boy back in diapers. The Boy is not fazed.

I read that some children are really excited to wear BBU. BBU is not all that attractive to The Boy, even special Disney Cars BBU, not all that interesting to The Boy. Pull-ups and the like are treated just like diapers, and lets face it they are just diapers that can be pulled down and he knows it. We tried a sticker chart, with the ultimate reward being a new Thomas line train…not fazed. We have tried bribing each attempt at pottying with food (most recently gummy worms), not fazed. He’s been watching us pee for years, but apparently this has done nothing except to lower my privacy standards when I’m in the bathroom. Of course he has been watching DH pee, which has led to The Boy’s new insistence that “I stand,” which is so far from ideal it makes me shake. I mean he is pointing everywhere but in the toilet when he stands, imagine the mess if he actually manages to pee!

We recently purchased an anatomically correct boy doll that drinks and pees when you press his tummy (handy…if only The Boy would do the same). The Boy loves the peeing doll, but I don’t know if it has made much difference in his willingness to use the potty. All I have left in my arsenal is a whole heap of positive talk and reinforcement, and the idea of having a potty party at some point in the future. The Boy went to daycare in a Pull-up this morning because I was too tired to try to make him pee before we left. I am a potty-training drop-out. It turns out that diapering is just easier. Perhaps if we wait until The Girl is ready it will be easier to just train them both at the same time? It is so odd that something we just take for granted can be so difficult to teach a child. The book makes me feel like an insensitive ass for even having some negative thoughts when The Boy pees himself not 2 minutes after being on the potty and producing squat. I am supposed to praise his efforts, and reassure him that I am not upset about the wetting (I’m really struggling with this one since I am in fact upset!). I’m supposed to tell him, you are trying so hard, I’m sure someday soon you will be able to use the potty just like a big boy! Ugh, all I keep thinking is “Do or no Do, there is no try” –Yoda

So the big question is, do we buy a potty video to add to the arsenal, or am I just grasping at straws now?

Introverted

If you have ever taken a Myers-Briggs inventory or something similar you know that we can all be classified into various personality types. I don’t remember my type exactly, but I do know that the first choices are between I and E (introvert and extrovert). I am most definitely an I. I have learned to become more extroverted over the years, and in work situations you might not even realize that I prefer to sit quietly and soak things in before weighing in on matters. However, that is my comfort zone, in certain social situations I revert to my “shy” ways of the past. It is not that I am afraid to speak, or even feel uncomfortable speaking, just that my internal processing doesn’t always allow me to speak out in a timely manner. I get irritated when people shine a negative light on this trait, especially when I can see my son following the same path. The world has too many extroverts already, people who speak first without thinking, people who need external validation in order to function. I’m perfectly content to know that the only validation that really matters is personal validation. I know that I am my own best supporter and best critic, and at the end of the day my voice is the only one that really matters to me.

I hope I can steer my son away from people that tell him he is shy, and try to force him to speak when he isn’t comfortable. I hope he can grow up knowing that there is nothing wrong with needing a few moments to process things internally before speaking out. I refuse to label my son with a term like shy. His own grandparents keep using this term, and I need to nip it in the bud. Yes, it takes him a while to warm up to people he doesn’t see on a regular basis, but I find this endearing and helpful in that I don’t think he is apt to talk to strangers. Yes, the world needs outgoing extroverts to blaze new trails, but it needs the introverts to get down to the details and actually get things done. My son is not deficient (nor am I) because he functions better as an introvert. I firmly believe that the more you label and try to change the more introverted people become…it is a defense mechanism. The more you encourage and accept the less people need to be introverted. So there, that is my new tidbit of wisdom for the day (or month).

All of the above stems from my recent realization that I have very few friends in my life that I haven’t known since forever. I wonder if I would be happier if I took a few more risks and just put myself out there more. I do find myself wanting more strong friendships, or even a few more casual friends. I’ve found some great friends in online environments, people I consider to be true friends, but sadly geography keeps us from doing things in person. I suppose it was an initial risk to put myself out there online, and it has paid off…just need to do it “in real life” as well. I suppose it doesn’t help that my one hobby, running, is a very solitary activity. Yes, there are running groups, but I really do prefer to run by myself, even really long runs. I’ve tried running with others, and it is okay, but running alone is usually better. I may just go to a Mom’s club meeting…it can’t hurt too much can it?

Do you ever

I’ll admit that I am a message board junkie. I have managed to limit myself to just 3 message boards that I frequent on a regular basis, but every now and then I find myself reading others too. It all started when I found the Runner’s World forums back in 1998 or 1999, I quickly became addicted. I was a very regular contributor to the Women’s forum back in the day, even managed to meet some of the women I “talked” to in person on a couple of occasions. On my quest to have a baby I had a miscarriage which led me to Fertility Friend (FF). I learned more than you ever wanted to know about BBT, how to chart it, and what fertility signs I should be on the lookout for. Thankfully The Boy was conceived fairly quickly, because all of that charting surely would have driven me mad if it had dragged on for months.

I discovered a new set of message boards on FF, and formed attachments to the women in my Due Date buddy group (a group of women all expecting babies in the same month I was). We talked each other down from various forms of pregnancy paranoia, and obsessed over the number of weeks along we were, all counting down to meeting our new babies. The babies arrived one by one, and those of us with due dates later in the month kept checking in obsessively hoping that reading about someone else’s impending labor would send our bodies into labor as well (that tactic never really worked). Eventually we all had our babies (more proof that despite how you feel when you are 37-42 weeks pregnant that nobody is pregnant forever, even though it REALLY feels that way sometimes), and some of us stayed in touch. Some of the women in that original buddy group drifted off, and sometimes I wonder what happened to them. Of course I realize that we had a strong bond while we were all pregnant together, afterwards, just having kids the same age isn’t enough to keep people together…especially in an online forum. I still wonder what happened to the home birthing mama, who went well overdue with her 3rd baby. I suspect she was just too busy chasing after 3 little kids to be online much anymore!

Anyway, I’m no longer frequenting FF, but it did lead me to the 3 boards I do read today in one way or another. The boards that are more public spurred me to write this post today (as I felt like somewhat of a back story was required before jumping into it). Do you ever read posts from a person (or blog entries for that matter), and use them to diagnose the posters with a variety of problems? Some people are always complaining about their spouse, others always complain about their in-laws, but the complaints tend to led me to want to suggest the person go to therapy to solve her own issues. She can have a perfectly legitimate complaint, her husband might be an ass, or her in-laws might be miserable, but I keep thinking maybe if you were able to focus on yourself the issues wouldn’t bother you so much, or maybe you would be able to stand up for yourself so these things don’t happen to you anymore. I mean we only have the power to change ourselves, and how we view events in our lives, we cannot change anyone else, no matter how much we want to. Yes, we can influence others, but from my very limited experience I’ve found that I see much greater results when I work on myself first.

I don’t think it is inexcusable to complain about things, I think it is a natural and beneficial thing to do. I only find it exhausting when the same people are always complaining about what I view to be similar things. It becomes clear to me (as I read about one tiny aspect of that person’s life) that if she only changed her perspective she wouldn’t be irate the majority of the time. Of course I don’t even respond to such posts, because I don’t feel like the advice I would give would be appreciated. I mean who wants to write a long vent about how her husband doesn’t appreciate her and get a response other than “yeah your husband is an ass?” I realize these types of posts are a way to feel validated, and a way to vent without risking a divorce. Heck, I’ve posted similar things myself. I’m still not sure why I feel compelled to put on the therapist hat when I read such things, just wondering if I am the only one who does it I guess. I think this tendency is forcing me to participate in public online forums less and less, my therapist hat is telling me to “live your own life.” It is likely good advice, but I still want to talk to my buddy group friends…just need to find a good balance.

Thank you for teaching me

3 years ago today…
I woke up like it was any other day (as much as that applies when you are 3 days past your “official” due date with your first baby), ate breakfast, and started my normal Saturday task of updating our finances in Microsoft Money (yes I know, I am a geek). While entering our expenses I started paying attention to the contractions I was having, and noticed that they were uncomfortable and had some sort of consistency in their timing. I won’t reminisce about all aspects of that day, as my other website contains the full birth story, but by the end of that day I was a Mom. I remember how tiny he was, and how unprepared I felt for the new responsibility I held in my arms. I also remember just studying his little arms, legs, fingers, feet, face, and even his little ears which had little elf hairs growing on the rims. How was it possible that something so beautiful and precious had been placed in my care? As he has grown, he has only gotten better. He is burned into my heart the way nothing else ever had been, or I suspect ever will be. Obviously I love his younger sister, but that first child bond – the fact that he first made me a Mother just makes the relationship different. We learned how to be, together, and are in fact still learning how to be. Each day brings a new piece of the world into his focus, and I hope I am able to help him interpret it in a meaningful way.

He has taught me many things, but perhaps the most powerful is that I am not able to control him. He is his own person, I do my best to guide his choices and decisions, but each day he pushes back just a little more. He is separating from me more and more with each passing day. It sometimes makes me sad to think that I can go weeks without speaking to my parents, and that one day He will go weeks without talking or maybe even thinking about his. Of course I am getting way ahead of myself here, the boy is 3, and it is not like he will be going off to college tomorrow. I guess I’m just reflecting more on my 3rd anniversary as a parent, than I am on his birth. When DH and I decided to try to conceive a baby, I don’t think either of us had any idea what a ride we were in for. Yes, we wanted to be parents, but I know I had only vague ideas of what that meant. I didn’t realize that for the rest of my life, I would think first about my children. I didn’t realize that my heart could grow as big as it has. I didn’t realize that the complicated little people we created would change me so much. I didn’t realize how wonderful it is to watch your children grow and accomplish new things. I didn’t realize how awe inspiring even the smallest things can be to a child, and how fabulous it is to observe them soak everything in.

Yes, we were children at one point in time, but as we grow and learn we become hardened to new things. We just don’t look at a birthday balloon the same way a 3-year old does. If my twenties were about thinking I knew it all, my thirties are certainly about teaching me that knowing it all means nothing. To really find joy in even the most mundane tasks, to find the butterfly, to see the ladybug, to happen upon a lucky stick, these are the true pleasures in life. Our world through a child’s eye is truly a wonderful place.

Thank you my little man, for teaching me, and for trusting me to guide you through these early years of your life. I love you.

P.S. I feel like I should start singing “I Hope you Dance” after what I’ve written above, but I won’t. Just reflecting…

Feeling sorry for myself

I should rename my blog to something more appropriate, like "complains about everything" or "whines incessantly," yes I am about to whine and complain again. Not only am I horrible about updating this blog, but when I do post it is just to vent/complain/etc. If you are still reading I'd be surprised.

I'm on a business trip right now, and thankfully I get to go back home tomorrow evening. I've been gone since Tuesday evening, but haven't seen my kids since I dropped them off at daycare Tuesday morning. My kids are fine, home with their Dad, and in a lot of ways my travel of late has been great for DH to figure things out with the kids without my help. It has also been good for Toddler and Infant (who recently had a birthday so she will now be referred to as Toddler 2) to learn to rely on Daddy rather than me all of the time. Of course I am insanely jealous of the fact that I am the one traveling. I'm sure I would complain if I were home alone with the kids and DH were traveling, but DH says nothing. Honestly I think he is worried I will quit my job if he presses the issue too much, and he likes the money I earn far too much to let me do that (at least without another job lined up).

Two weeks in a row with 3 nights away from home in each week is just brutal on me though. I feel so disconnected from my family, and I get so worn out having to be "on" while traveling with coworkers. Breakfast together, working together all day, lunch, dinner, and even a run with my boss last night. It is just too much. I almost said no when my boss asked if he could go for a run with me, the only me time I had in store for the day, but figured it was just plain rude for me to do so. Thankfully tonight he didn't want to run, so I skipped out on dinner with him in order to run solo, and grab a bite to eat by myself after my run. We are staying in a college town, with a variety of clothing stores just a block down from the hotel, so I ran, ate at Chipotle, and went shopping for a while. It was good, even though I kept passing people with babies which just made me miss my babies all the more. I don't have to travel next week, and am very much looking forward to the three day weekend this weekend. I think I need to be away for 4 nights the week after next though, and it just makes me sad. I don't feel like I can say no, but this travel is killing me.

I feel a little trapped for the time being. I don't want to change jobs until I have been here for at least a year since I have a couple of gaps in my employment history now. I suppose I could have a serious talk with my boss about my dissatisfaction with all of this travel, but he did warn me about travel when I accepted the job. I came into it knowing travel was likely, but since I didn't travel at all for the first 6 months it is just now coming to me how much I hate being away from the kids. I left a previous job partially because of travel, and those trips were almost always no longer than 1 night at a shot. I think I could handle 1 night away trips at this point, but these 3-4 day trips are impossible. My son now says things to me like "but you will go on a trip" when we are discussing daily plans. It breaks my heart. We have webcams for my laptop and for the desktop computer at home, so we have had some video calls this week, but I always end up in tears when we have to hang up. It just isn't the same. Toddler 2 tries to grab the monitor for a while, then she just sits and chews on her hand or a toy. Toddler walks away and begs to watch movies.

I realize I am completely rambling right now, I think I just need to get all of these feelings out of me rather than trying to pretend that I am okay with travel. I am not okay with travel. I need to be home with my kids, for their sake and for mine. I will not travel long term. I will find a new job, or find some way to make this job involve much less travel. I cannot just stay the course, because it is seriously affecting my quality of life.

Ugh, sorry to be such a downer.

Ambivalence

So infant will be 12 months old in a week. This means that I will no longer have to be her primary source of nutrition. I don’t plan on weaning her, am hoping that she can get the chance to self-wean, but I will stop pumping at work (except when I am traveling over night). I’m down to one pump per day at work, and for some reason I just feel odd about that. I am hugely ambivalent about pumping at work. I hate it, but don’t want to give it up. How is that possible? I never even intended to pump at work at all, but here I am 8 months later still doing it. I thought for sure I would dance a little jig when I could stop pumping. Don’t get me wrong I know I will adjust quickly, and won’t miss the pump in the least when it is packed up for good. I just feel like I’m saying “Happy Birthday honey, your gift from me is no more breast milk.” Considering how much she enjoys nursing and breast milk in general I can’t see that this is a happy gift for her. I suppose part of it is that while I am still pumping I feel like I am still more connected to her even when she isn’t with me. Every time I pump I think of her little face looking up at me, and I just feel good about it.

Of course I also feel like I will miss my pumping breaks. They are the only times during the day that I can slack off and surf the internet without guilt. On the other hand, it will be really nice to not worry about finding places to pump at client sites. If I never have to pump while sitting on a toilet seat again it will be too soon. Still I worry that by not pumping during the day I will force Infant to wean sooner than she wants to. This parenthood business is just so damn complicated. Sometimes I wish I could make a decision about my children without having to analyze the implications 1000 times in my head, but I suppose I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do that.

Indulgence

Both Infant and Toddler have birthdays coming up in the near future, so I've been racking my brain for gift ideas. I took a quick tour of their closets and found that Infant could easily go 3+ weeks without a repeated outfit, so that was no help to me (other than making me walk quickly by the cute cute kids clothes at Nordstroms today). A tour of Toddlers dresser and closet revealed a serious lacking for pants that are long enough for him, and no summer weight pajamas to speak of. It is just too bad that the Grandparents aren't going to want to give the boy *clothing* for his birthday, so I suppose that is up to me. Honestly I can't blame them after witnessing his reaction to clothing at Christmas (really should have videotaped the quick throws over his shoulder). A quick tour of the basement revealed a multitude of toys that can be new again to Toddler and would be completely new to Infant. At the suggestion from a friend I am actually considering wrapping up some of the old toys for Infant to open. The Grandparents will give me endless shit about doing so, but they can't deny the fact that my house is quickly becoming a plastic palace. If we get any more ride on toys or play sets I think we will have to start grinding down plastic to make me feel better about the effect on the environment. I still have no clue what to buy the kids...am open to suggestions!

Starvation mode?

I’m still carrying around an extra 5 pounds of “baby weight” and it is starting to really bother me. The change of seasons has forced me to break out my shorts and Capri pants only to find out that they don’t fit. Ugh. My “fat” shorts do in fact fit, but the ones I actually like do not. So last week I finally started following my tried and true self-enforced Weight Watchers plan. I have yet to do my weekly weigh in, but I have weighed myself a few times this week only to find a gain of 2 pounds and most recently no change at all. This makes me extremely frustrated. I know WW works well, having used it more than once to lose weight, and I am pretty darn good at counting points now with the help of an Excel spreadsheet I made (with a little help from DH…okay he mostly made it with a little instruction from me). I’m not even trying to get to my real goal weight which is 10 pounds less than I weigh now, simply because I don’t think it is realistic while I am still nursing Infant. I hate that these last 5 pounds just seem glued to my hips and thighs.

I know I am being hard on myself, I can wear a size 6 off the rack in most stores right now. However, that is only due to size inflation…my 5-6 year old size 6 stuff is the reason I feel compelled to lose this weight as it is too tight. Is it so much for someone who runs 5 days/20-25 miles per week to be able to lose 5 pounds? I’m not even eating crazy foods or snacking inappropriately. Other people tell me that since I am nursing and running my body is going into starvation mode and is holding onto all of the fat it has. Apparently my body hasn’t gotten the message that it is not going to starve, and that those extra 5 pounds are just ugly and serve no real purpose. If it wants to hold onto extra fat I just wish it could be deposited in my breasts rather than on my hips. I’m going to continue following my nursing modified WW program for another week. If I fail to lose a pound or more I will likely just give up until I quit nursing.

Where did I go?

I’m not sure when it happened, but it did. I find myself with very little patience for my whiney children. I know that getting up with Infant upwards of 4 times per night for the past few days hasn’t helped matters. I really try not to complain about sleep, but waking up 4 times a night is a good form of torture. We’ve tried medicating her with Motrin at bed time but she still wakes up multiple times. I can feel at least two teeth that are just starting to pop through her gums. Hopefully when the teeth come through we will get some sleep again. I really miss sleep. I don’t particularly enjoy traveling for work, but at least when I do I get to sleep through the night. Oddly enough Infant and Toddler both sleep through the night while I am traveling too. It isn’t clear whether DH just sleeps through the cries, or if they just roll over and go back to sleep because they know Mommy isn’t around.

The patience aspect comes in when Toddler is being defiant, or Infant just won’t go to sleep despite being clearly tired. This week I have felt like driving away and never coming back multiple times. I like to think that I am good at most things that I decide to do in life. Being a parent is just so different from every other aspect of life. If I don’t meet a running goal I know it is because I didn’t put in enough training, and I can make corrections. At work I can make adjustments to my style in order to be more effective. At home, it seems as though every time I think I have the children figured out they change. Last year I could bribe Toddler with an episode of Jo Jo’s Circus, but now he acts like I am torturing him if Jo Jo is on TV. A ride in the wagon used to be good as well, but now unless he gets to walk alongside the wagon and/or pull it himself (not a wise choice with Infant in the wagon as well) it isn’t appealing. I realize that he needs to develop independence, and his little revolts are his way of doing so. I just wish his independence didn’t make me late for work in the morning, or that I could get him to switch it off when it isn’t convenient for me.

I’m trying to remember if I ever had anything interesting to say, or if I was just mute prior to having children. I feel like all I ever talk about (outside of work) is my kids. I think I need to rediscover my own interests soon, because I am sick of listening to myself talk about my kids. I can only imagine how others must feel. DH and I have an anniversary coming up next week. We were married almost 9 years ago, and have only had the kids for 3 years of that time. How is it possible that all of that history is lost, and only our kids remain? I know it is there somewhere, just hidden under layers of diapers, sippy cups, bottles, and toys. Perhaps if I get some sleep I can reflect on the past fondly again.

Blogging Deadbeat

I don't even have time for a decent blog post, but wanted to post something to get me back into the swing of things. Some work travel took me out of the habit of posting here, and it seems that once the habit is broken it is hard for me to recover. If anyone is still reading I will be back soon with something that may or may not be interesting to read.