Posted by: angelnorman | May 22, 2008

Morningtime, snuggles, and potty-training

I love summer mornings, going outside to walk the dogs and being caught off guard by the cold and crisp morning air. There is something about starting the day off like that that just feels good to me; I think it reminds me of my childhood during the summer when my mother would drag us from our beds and drive us across town to sit with our grandmother all day. I mean, I loved going to Granny’s sometimes, and I would imagine that every morning felt sort of like that. Cool and wet before the sun fully wakes up and the temps spike towards 90 degrees.

But I just love mornings in general. I love waking up before Nick and actually being able to read and have coffee. I love how dark my house is then, before the blinds are open and lights have been turned on and off… and on again. I love the quiet the most, though. I love how the whole house just feels like it is asleep. I try my best to not disturb it. I remain quiet and respectful of my surroundings. I move through the house completely silent, except for the noise I make while blogging. Click click click.

But even that seems a soothing noise to me. This morning I am so thankful for the quiet, for the morning, and for actually getting a decent night’s sleep for the first time in weeks. Maybe my stomachache (which goes away then comes back again) is a blessing in disguise because it’s forced me to move slower and be more aware of my body.


Wednesday morning at 2 am, Nicholas snuck up behind me while I was playing the Sims and hugged my arm. I should have already been in bed, I know, but that’s how a lot of my nights go. After I got over the initial scare of someone suddenly there on my arm, I walked him back to bed, giving him all the stuffed animals, toy robots, and cups of milk a boy could ever need. We did this three times before finally he asked me to hold him. I scooped him up in my arms and he asked me to rub his back “on the couch”. So I snuggled up with him on the couch and started tracing my fingers up and down his back with the softness that he likes.

Then all the sudden he springs up and asks me to tell him a story. “What kind of story?” I ask. “One about Pirates,” he replies. So I begin, using the plot of Pirates of the Caribbean (a new favorite of his) as my story. I was a few sentences into the story when he interrupts with, “Tell me about them fighting with their swords and how they go ching-ching-ching!” Clearly I needed to get to the good part. So we go through that, and then he says, “Tell me a story about God.”

So I told him about how God made the sun, the moon, and the stars. And I told him about how God made him, and me, and daddy because He loves us. And he looks up at me and says with the sweetest little face, “Yeah, and I love God too.” I think there are puddles of my heart somewhere still on that couch in there, because it seriously melted when he said that. We talked about church, and about how he goes to church with Gran, and about how a techer will help him learn his letters when he goes to school. We talked about all his favorite things, about his love for everyone in his family. He named all his grandparents with their respective spouses, and he even named their pets. “And I love Kassie and Katie!” after he had named Grandma and Grandpa. “I love Sassy Cat and that dog,” he said when he named my mom and stepdad.

We stayed up so late just talking. Finally by 3:15, I forced him to go back to bed…. which I later found out he DID NOT do and only pretended to do. In fact what he really did was get up, play with the bottle of febreeze by spraying it on my cell phone and all over the tops of the dogs’ kennels. Apparently those things stunk really bad. I can understand the kennels, but my phone? Seriously?

Yesterday was the worst day ever. He peed AND pooped on the couch, totally destroying his underwear and forcing me to get out the upholstery cleaner. Worst yet is that he probably wouldn’t have told me had I not been sitting right beside him when he did it.


We’re working on potty-training this week, by the way. Typically my kid doesn’t use the couch for his bladder-relief. He is having accident after accident, but he’s also going potty more on his own, too. We took him last night to Target and let him pick out a new toilet seat for his potty– He chose a Cars themed one. And we also let him show us what toys he’d like to get if he learned to potty like a pro. I am totally all about the toys-as-incentives approach as you can see. I’ve tried everything else– peeing on the cheerios, promising him food treats that I normally control like lollipops or fruit snacks. I’ve bought the underwear that he likes, I’ve been talking about how all his friends use the potty. I’ve even been promising to take him special places, etc. So now it’s the promise of Playmobil Pirate sets and new Transformers. We’ll see how it goes.

I googled “potty-training a 3.5 year old boy” last night for further tips and I found this page. (Clickable.) That mother’s question sounds EXACTLY like what I’ve been going through, except she says she’s never yelled and um, I have totally yelled. I yell just about every day. It’s so nice to know though that I am not alone and that it’s not so easy for some of us.


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