As I hit the publish button on yesterday's post, I thought I was likely jinxing myself by expounding on my LOVE of this age. I reminded myself that I was not superstitious and pushed through. It appears that was a mistake.
I know many people read this blog for encouragement. Today I am not feeling very encouraging. I am writing anyway, because this is, afterall, a remembrance for my family...and I think it is important to fairly represent that some days in the trenches are just plain difficult.
My day started at 5:28 as K woke up bright eyed, bushy tailed and demanding my company across the hall. The kiddos have baby gates across the doors to their rooms, so rather than rolling over to find little people at my bedside, we have early morning yelling. The problem is that rather than waking up slowly and easing into my day, I must leap out of bed with shushes before the whole crew is awakened.
I tried to settle K back down, even taking her back to my bed with me, but she had taken a bit too much of a nap yesterday---so it wasn't happening. By 6:10 when my hubby was leaving for work, all 3 children were in the bed giggling, wrestling and squealing. They maintained that energy level for the next 7 hours.
Oh, the energy! By 8:15 I had called 2 different friends to invite them over for a playdate...and P, who has decided to boycott the potty suddenly, had already been through 3 pair of underwear. A friend of mine brought her son over to play and I couldn't help but notice the look on her face as my screaming, running, dressing up, demanding tornadoes quite literally bounced off the walls. P went through 3 diapers in an hour. My friend commented, "If I were you I would be an alcoholic."
Hoping that a change of scenery would bring some relief, we loaded the children up and took them to the pet store and to "Old McDonalds" for lunch. In an hour and a half, P managed to go through the diaper he was wearing, a back up pair of undies I had in the car, a diaper I borrowed from my friend and ultimately was commando while I tried to get the other two corralled and to the car. (Have I mentioned that 80% of his accidents were poop because he has started trying to "hold it" so only a bit comes out at a time?)
As I was trying to cajole K & R down out of the farthest reaches of the play place, I started sharing my feelings of overwhelming frustration with 2 friends who were also there with their children. Just as my tears started falling, my running boys had a head on collision and both fell to the floor crying. Suddenly, I was on the floor of McDonald's (still crying) as I comforted two crying boys. It was a new low in my "I-have-it-fairly-together, considering" public persona. As I wrapped my arms around P to pull him closer I realized he had wet his pants again.
I cried all the way home, honestly believing that if I could just have an ice cold Diet Coke it would somehow make everything OK. (I am on day 12 of my caffeine free month.) I bathed the children and put them down for naps, then took a much-needed shower of my own. As I sit in my chair, in a silent house, sipping a caffeine-free cup of green tea I pray the worst is over.
Does anyone have any experience with potty strikes? P hasn't had a healthy BM in days. He is literally (hand pressed over his rear-end) trying to "hold it." The result is small, but potent accidents several times a day. I have tried putting him on the potty for extended periods of time, but he waits for clothing before he goes and is very secretive about it. He is not a candidate for the bare bottom approach as he insists on wearing clothes.
I have tried talking to him with positive reinforcement, asking what is wrong, pleading with him to use the potty. I am baffled, frustrated and honestly tired of cleaning up this mess!
Edited to Add: Just in case anyone else is struggling with this, I found this article that looks very helpful. It appears I just need to lay off him a little. I think this has all gotten way too emotional.
And then, for the perspective God gave me after some quiet time, go and read this excellent piece by Ann. Just the perspective shift I needed. It really is all about perspective, isn't it?