You did WHAT in the front yard?

I am still relatively new on the raising boys scene. Today I realize that the difference is even bigger than I ever imagined...

My son has been potty trained since right before he turned 2. We taught him to sit on the toilet, because he was too short to effectively pee into it. For him it was easy-he has 2 older sisters. It was also easy to keep the bathroom clean. That was until we started to confuse him.

Micah's confusion began In March when we went to Nebraska to visit my mother-in-law. At one point we drove from Omaha to Columbus to visit some family friends. About 4 blocks from our destination, Micah started to cry and yell about how bad he had to go. Mark stopped and as he was pulling Micah out of the car to pee on the side of the road near a farm, I told him I was pretty sure we were almost there. He wasn't so sure, so he insisted on having Micah pee outside. As he was pulling down the little guy's pants, I was looking across one of the farms, sure that I could see their property from the car. Nevertheless, Micah was getting a lesson in peeing standing up.

Once Mark pulled his pants down, he told Micah to pee. He looked down and the ground for a second, then tried to squat. Mark stood him back up and told him, "Just pee like Daddy." Micah gave him a blank look and tried to squat again.

This time when Mark stood him up, he started to cry again. "I go potty real bad," or something like that came from him mouth. I leaned out of the car and told him, "Just hold him in a sitting position."

"What?" Mark said, but looking at the sadness of his son, he decided to hold him. I swear that kid peed a gallon of liquid. Mark even commented how ridiculous it was that that much liquid could come from someone so little. We threw him back in the car and drove the last 2 blocks to our friend's house. Little did we know that we planted a seed in the back of his head.

Last week I went to my favorite consignment store. They had just marked down their left over winter clothing 75%. I was having a shopping good time buying Gap jeans for $1 and $2 and finding great quality winter coats for $7.50, Well, when I was there Micah had to go to the bathroom. I showed him where the bathroom was and continued to shop. All of the sudden I heard crying coming from the bathroom. The pain kind of cry.

I walked over there and another shopping mom said that he was going to the bathroom with the door wide open (big surprise) and she saw him slam his fingers when he closed the toilet lid. I cuddled him and thought nothing more of it. We bought our stuff and left.

Well, once I arrived home, I realized that we were going to have to return to the store. I had forgotten some of my stuff. It's a little bit of a drive to the store so I returned the next day. Once I got there, I found another rack of clothes to go through and began to shop.

Apparently Micah had to go to the bathroom again, but there was no way that he was going on that finger-crushing toilet again. So, he made for the front of the store. About this time, I started counting heads (something you do frequently when you have a lot of kids). I was missing one. I called up to the owner of the shop (this is a laid back, small shop) and asked her if she could see Micah. There was a lady with her grandchild standing in the front of the store. "What does he look like?"

I described him to her and she began to nod her head and pointed out the window, "I think he's peeing outside."

I stopped, horrified, "What did you say?"

"Well, he just pulled his pants down in the front of the store and he's peeing in that little patch of grass in front of the store,"

I put my shopping bag down and walked to the front of the store. Sure enough, Micah was pulling up his pants and walking back in the door. "Please button?" he asked as he pointed to the button on his jeans. I was speechless. Little did I know that was the beginning.

Since last week he has peed twice in the front yard of the house. I kept telling him to stop. I think Mark, although he would tell him to stop, was secretly glad that his boy was finally able to pee like a man. Today was the worst. Today, he was out taking a leak in the front yard, when he realized that he had to poop as well.

First, let me just interject that there is a reason that I am starting to blog after a long absence. Something about dealing with poop makes me have to release my frustration by writing. Hence the address of my blog: poopyday.blogspot.com. Back to my story...

Anyway, Mark had stopped by to grab something out of the garage when he saw his own flesh and blood squat in the front yard and plop his business right on the front walkway. I heard my name being yelled from the front yard and I stepped outside. Mark, in a state of disbelief, told me, "Our son just pooped on the front walk!"

My first reaction was to look around and make sure that no one was around. Thankfully, there were no neighbors out at the time. Next I made Micah get toilet paper and a bag a clean up the mess. Then.... okay, there is no "then." I am completely at a loss on how to deal with a kid who has no qualms with doing his business on the front walkway. Maybe I'll have to blog again once I have that epiphany...

Babies Never Have Gas During the Day

Sorry I haven't been around, but I was being reminded of law 47 (or so) of Murphy's law: Babies never have gas during the day.

Monday night seemed like a normal night. We watched Chuck with the neighbors. Mark was a little under the weather, so he went to bed at 10:00 while I chatted. I returned to the house at about 10:30 and got ready for bed. At 11:00, just as I was laying down, I heard Isaiah start screaming.

Disappointed that I couldn't go to sleep, but glad that he woke up before I fell asleep, I picked him up. He was NOT happy. He had gas. LOTS of it. After about 45 minutes, I decided that I might as well get comfortable, and I went down to the basement where the nice couch and the TV are. I watched Chuck again with Isaiah screaming, rotating his position during the commercials. At 1:00 Mark showed up.

I went to sleep, but Mark said that after an hour of screaming, at 2:00 he took Isaiah on a scenic drive of the neighborhood. He said that he checked out the new shops in the Highlands Ranch Town Center. He even found a nice new restaurant. By 3:00, he and Isaiah were asleep.

Enter Micah. He decided that he wanted to join the fun. At about 5:00 he had an accident. The first accident he had at night since the first month we potty trained him--of course it is the same night that Isaiah was up. I drug myself in his room, changed his clothes and all of his sheets. I put him back to bed and then dropped into bed--at which point Isaiah woke back up with more gas.


At 5:45ish I fed Isaiah a bottle and helped him relieve some more gas. Exhausted, I climbed back into bed.

At 7:00 the alarm went off. Time to get the girls to school.

Tuesday night we had a similar routine. I totally need a vacation.

I almost had a quiet week

For all you that read my last post about Christina and her antics, it gets better! The day after her multiple trips to the bathroom, we all load in the car on the way to school. Late (as usual), we quickly back down the driveway and start our well-worn drive to school. We get about 1/2 mile away and I hear from the back seat, "Mom, I have to go potty."

Elena and I, thinking that she is joking, start laughing. We had shared Christina's story with all of their grandparents and we assumed that she must be kidding. Well, we assumed until she broke out in tears.

"I really DO have to go!" So, we concluded our dramatic drive with another leap out of the car and dash down the hill towards school. Once again, I wondered why she just couldn't go when we were at home.

That evening my parents arrived just after dinner to take the girls to a local ballet performance. We made sure that Christina went to the bathroom before they left. I was told that from that point they were traveling in the car just a short distance when Christina insisted that she had to go to the bathroom AGAIN. They raced to the location of the performance (about the same distance from our house as their school), and my father dropped the girls and my mother off and they raced to the bathroom. They too were laughing because they had read my blog.

Then, during the first half of the performance, Christina started wiggling and whispers (loudly-as all 5 year olds do) that she had to go potty. So, they found themselves missing part of the performance. Then, during intermission, she went again. That time my father was waiting outside for her and she took so long that he sent Elena after her. (After she went she had to check out all of the stalls, sing a song, use way too much soap, and then dry her hands for an eternity.) So, after missing about half of the performance, they brought her back and shared their experience with me. At least they were laughing. I wouldn't have been so whimsical about the situation.

Now I figure that there has to be something wrong with my child. I assumed that she had a urinary tract infection. I sent Mark to the store to buy cranberry juice while I probed her for information. "Does it hurt when you pee?" "Does your tummy hurt?" To all of these questions I received a hearty NO.

The next day I took her to the doctor. I don't know how many times she asked me if she was going to get a shot. When I arrived I was given a cup and a wet wipe. "Have her pee in here," they told me.

Now, maybe my daughter is different than other children, but whenever either of my older children are asked to pee in a cup it doesn't matter how frequently they've been peeing during the course of the day or how long it has been since they've last peed--once that cup is sitting there waiting for a urine deposit, all of the sudden they can't go anymore.

Now the doctor's bathroom is tiny. It is about the size of a public bathroom stall with a sink attached. Micah, of course, couldn't miss any of the action, so all 3 of us were squeezed into this tiny room while I hold a cup under my hovering daughter.

"Pee in the cup." I was trying to be as positive and encouraging as possible.

"I can't. There is no more pee."

I sighed, "Just try to pee a little bit in the cup."

Christina starts making exaggerated pushing sounds for about a minute. Then, "I can't go."

I remember back to our multiple stops to the bathroom all day. I take a deep breath. Now, Micah had gotten bored and kept trying to escape the bathroom.

"Come on Christina. Just a little bit."

With the most sympathetic look that she could muster she declared, "I just can't go, Mom!"

Trying to be patient, I stood up, rolled my eyes and washed my hands. We returned to the patient room with not even a single drop of pee.

The nurse reentered the room and asked about the sample. I told her that we couldn't even get a drop. She encouraged us to wait and try again. About 15 minutes later Christina tells me that she has to go--and of course it is an emergency.

Now, I want to know how she desperately has to go the bathroom 15 minutes after she has absolutely nothing left in her bladder. Oh, that's right, children like to occasionally exasperate their parents. This time I sent her and Elena to the bathroom. I was doubtful that she really had to go. Of course, about 4 minutes later they show up with a full cup, which they delivered proudly to the nurses station.

A few minutes later the pediatrician comes in. "She doesn't have a urinary tract infection--she is just constipated. The bowels are pressing against the bladder and that's why she has to go so frequently."

All of the sudden, I vaguely remembered Christina telling me something while I was engrossed in reading an article. (Kids never tell you important information when they have your complete attention.) She told me that she had proudly eaten 4 bananas in a row. Suddenly, it all made sense. She was downing bananas at a phenomenal rate-- which caused her to get constipated-- which then caused all of our exciting adventures! Why hadn't I thought of that before?

We returned home and I cooked her a very large helping of vegetables. Thankfully, my bathroom adventures have ceased and my daughter is regular again. What a week!

I have to go potty real bad right now!

I'm sorry that I have been MIA lately. My boys got sick, then they got ear infections. I just haven't been able to concentrate on blogging! I have a list of great stories to share--and now I'm getting more sleep--so I'm ready to write again.

My little Christina is a character. I cannot possibly put all of her little quirks into one blog, so I am going to start with her endless need to go to the bathroom at the most inopportune times.

Christina always seems to have to go the the bathroom just after we left a place with a "safe," clean bathroom. Yesterday we left to go to the bank. Just as we were leaving the neighborhood I hear a desperate plea coming from the back seat, "I have to go potty really bad!" You've gotta be kidding me.

I stopped the car and looked in the rear view mirror. Trying to speak calmly, I asked her, "Why didn't you go to the bathroom when we were home about 3 minutes ago? I have to go to the bank and it closes in 15 minutes."

With the most desperate face she could muster, she pleads, "Mommy--I can't make it! I have to go really bad right now." That time I rolled my eyes, turned around, and headed back to the house.

Then, this morning came around. Elena woke everyone up really early to let us all know that she had a field trip today and that she was already dressed. Since we all were up so early, we all had plenty of time to relax, eat, and go to the bathroom. We loaded up in the car and the girls and I took off to go to school.

On the way to school we pick up a little boy. Right after I picked him up and we were on the way to school, I hear that same desperate plea coming from the back, "Mommy--I have to go potty!" Mind you, we had all of the time in world to go to the bathroom that morning.

"Hold it." I showed no signs of compassion. I think this was the 4th time this week that Christina had to go to the bathroom as soon as we got in the car.

She wiggled, "But I can't make it! I have to go SO SO bad!" I could see her wiggling in the back seat.

This time Elena chimed in, "Christina! Why didn't you go at home? You were doing nothing for like a whole 10 minutes!"

"But I didn't have to go then. I have to go really bad now."

I glanced at the clock. We are like a whole 4 minutes from the girls school. If I stopped somewhere else, it would take longer than that for us to figure out where the bathroom was. "I'm not stopping."

Christina leaned forward, "But MOMMY. I HAVE to go. I'm NOT going to make it. PLEASE stop." I looked around. I don't think anyone would appreciate her peeing in a bush on Highlands Ranch Parkway.

"I'm not stopping."

The biggest groan escaped her little body. As I approached the school I swear I could see the water lines rising past her eye balls. Then, the car stopped. Traffic was back up at the school.

Her level of desperation rose, "I have to go!" She took off her seat belt and squeezed close to the door as we inched towards the school. Finally, the car approached a sidewalk. We were still about 20 cars back from the drop off spot in front of the school, inching slowly. She looked at me, "Mommy--I want to get out and walk to school."

Before the word OK escaped my lips, she had thrown open the door and took off running as fast as she could towards the door. I have never seen a little girl run that fast in my life. In a full sprint, she skillfully swerved past the slower kids and dashed into the school.

Elena started laughing, "She was running pretty fast. I hope she made it!"

Thankfully, she did.