Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #3, Part 2

Rhys woke up from a 3 hour nap dry (so proud!!) and then didn't use the potty until like 5 or something. The afternoon was spent playing with lots of 'drink breaks!!' and creative ways to get him to eat apple slices. Kid has good bladder control (who knew?).

He had ZERO pee accidents today, and he never did poop again despite my force-feeding of apples and snap peas... I SO wanted another opportunity for him to actually go poo on the potty. I will be all over him tomorrow morning on that one. Because when that happens I would feel confident saying he is 95% potty trained. The next 5% will come when I can trust him to tell me every time, and not just when I've asked 1000 times.

Soiled/wet diaper count today: 1 (amazing!)

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #3, Part 1

Today started off with a lot of promise.

Rhys woke up dry again. And he doesn't even need to go as soon as he wakes up (which is great, because then I know down the road that I don't need to rush to get him as soon as he wakes/stirs.)

Then he kept his undies dry ALL morning. He would nod his head when asked if he needed to go, and would hold it until he was on the potty chair. He was even saying things like 'yucky poo in diaper! Ewww! Goes in potty!' but he still hadn't pooed. He peed about 4 or 5 times in a row on the pot, keeping his undies dry. So proud!

Then we were downstairs and he got quiet and moved away from me...which is a 'poo' sign, but when i asked him he said no. So I scooped him up and there was nothing. Then, about 30 seconds later he moved away again, said no, scooped him and a big poo was coming out in his undies. DAMN IT! Rushed him upstairs to finish, said 'ewww gross your undies got dirty, yuck!' then forced out some positive comments as well...but it was hard. I was so optimistic because he seemed to have aced the peeing part (knock on wood), so I was disappointed.

Now I need to pump him full of fibre so he has another pooing opportunity today... Really want him to start and finish on the potty before the day is done.

Wow. I this really what my life has become?

Ugh.

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #2, Part #3

Rhys napped for 2.5 hours and woke up dry. This was extremely thrilling. I was full of optimism for the afternoon. I prompted him when he woke to use the potty, but he said he didn't need to go. So I was on him like a hound after that, and then for the fourth time in a row he responded to a prompting and said he had to, and went pee on the potty. FABULOUS.

Then my mom came over and he started to have an accident but then started running to the potty with me hot on his heels. Discouraging, but still an improvement from yesterday. I think he was just too 'in the moment' playing with me.

At this point I was well aware that he hadn't pooped yet today. So I was encouraging 'baby whale' or 'horsey' or whatever animal he was at the time to eat some fibre-full apples. Then he began his tell-tale 'I am pooping' signs by running away from me, telling me not to come near him and hiding. So I scooped him up and sure enough he was starting in his pants. He did this twice in a row...obviously not finishing the first time. Oy. This poo business is a tough nut to crack.

He made me very proud when he peed on the pot before bath and before bed.

Lowlights of the day:

1) he asked to go potty, and then as soon as I got his undies down and his bum on the potty, he stood up suddenly (because he didn't really have to go, he was making a game of it) bashing his skull into my glasses and pushing them into my eye, sending a shooting pain through my brain. I wanted to shout expletives at him and throw him across the room. But instead I had to fight back tears and mumble something encouraging to him about 'maybe next time!'...

2) Kyle screaming my breast the way Rhys used to do right before he quit nursing, and Rhys and warren walk in and in total exasperated frustration I screamed 'I just need some PEACE!!!!'

3) since Kyle was refusing his bedtime nursing I hid in his room to feed him a bottle. My mom came in and said 'well let me feed him' (trying, I guess, to be helpful, because if he's having a bottle I don't need to be the one feeding him), but I just looked at her with evil-death-stare yes and said 'no!'. After the day I'd had I just wanted 10 quiet moments with my baby.

Highlights

1) watching Rhys run around in undies all day, looking at his adorable little boy legs.

2) as exhausting as the CONSTANT playing is, it is a joy listening to him express his imaginative play scenarios...his ideas flow so fast he can barely say it all fast enough.

3) wet/soiled undies count was 5.... Down from yesterday!

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #2, Part 2

Quick Notes:

The bad...

- peed a HUGE PEE on the dog bed in the living room while I was trying to get him follow me to the kitchen to get something.
- peed a HUGE PEE in his crib while we were playing together.
- peed a HUGE PEE in his bean bag chair while we were watching tv together.
- it's hard to recognize his 'signs' because they happen when he is in the act, not before.
- it is so hard to fake the pride when deep down I am frustrated.
- each new clean pair of undies holds so much promise and gives me hope as I wait for the next 'learning opportunity'

The great...

- after the 200th time of prompting him to tell me when he needs to go, he says 'I want to go potty, then holds it until we get there and pees! It was SO EASY to fuss about it because I was proud to My CORE. did a happy dance, sang songs, hugged him and kissed him and gave him a big treat of smarties and kit kat.
- he did this THREE more times!!! I think he's 'getting it'.

The ugly...

- I stink like pee and sour milk and B.O.
- I feel sorry for myself and feel under appreciated in my life.
- I am scarfing down whatever I can while he naps because Kyle is crying for me right now.

We will see what the afternoon brings...

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #2, Part 1

Rhys woke up dry!!!! When I made big deal about his dry undies he said 'yah mommy, I said bye-bye diapers.

Like, duh, of course I'm dry.

Oh, and he was awake early at 6:30a. I'm in for a long day. At least it started off well.

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #1, Part 2

Rhys had a very short nap - 55 minutes. For a kid who often naps 2-4 hours, this was über short, but that was partly my fault. The 'method' I am following says to listen for the child to stir, so you can ask if they need to pee. So the first sign of movement on the monitor and I went into his room. He did not have to pee, but then proclaimed loudly 'it's wake up time!'. Damn it.

But the great news...he was DRY! And then he remained dry for the next several hours. Which was great. Sort of. But I was beginning to feel like I was in a starring contest with his crotch. Looking for the first sign of a dribble. Now I understand why pumping him with fluids is so important...he can't learn to pee on the potty if he rarely has to go. So freezies and Popsicles are an important reward/treat. Also, I found salty snacks (popcorn, chips, popcorn twists) made him thirsty so he'd drink more.

And then of course, Murphy's Law would dictate that as soon as Warren came home and Rhys showed him his dry undies, Rhys started peeing himself while Warren was in the locked bathroom going himself. Grrrrr....

For the remainder of the day I mostly caught him in the act. It was hard to praise him and remain positive when deep down I was disappointed. So I reminded myself that for the past 2.5 years he has just released in his diaper without thinking and needs to learn the signs himself.

I was really proud when he sat on the potty (fairly willingly) at bedtime, and pushed out a really great pee, without wetting his underwear.

He went to bed nice and early, 7:30pm, and when I counted the number of wet/soiled undies to be washed it was 8. Not too shabby for the first day.

Here's to hoping night #1 goes perfectly. I am exhausted.

Cheers!

Potty Training Bootcamp: Day #1, Part 1

For the past few days I've been telling Rhys we are saying goodbye to diapers on the weekend, and today was the day. Gramma Patsy came over at 9am, and we took off his last diaper and tossed it in the trash. Then Rhys threw all his unused pull-ups in the trash, and chose his first pair of undies. We showered him with praise and told him how big he looked in his big boy undies. Then he placed his new 'big boy' flushable wipes beside his potty chair and we were set.

Then phase one of training began: fill him with fluids! He drank apple juice, water and peach juice - a very special treat - out of a special new cup, throughout the morning. Every 5 minutes I would say 'keep your undies dry! Tell mommy when you need to potty!' I watched him carefully and caught him mid-accident 3 times, scooping him up and rushing him to the potty, still praising him. Once I caught a poop in the early stage, and got him to the potty in time to 'finish', giving him HUGE praise. He got a Dora puzzle for that one.

Then later in the morning he was getting grumpy, defiant and wanting to be alone...all of which I think are his 'signs' that he needs to go. Finally got him to admit he needed to potty, and he sat on the potty, emptied his bladder and his undies were still dry! Very exciting. For that one he got 2 gummy frogs, 2 gummy cherries and a vanilla Oreo, and TONS of praise.

Then Naptime rolled around. He said he didn't need to pee before bed, so I didn't force it. Into his crib he went, in dry undies. I watched on the video monitor as he pulled up the 'crib mat' I had placed in there to save his sheet if he had an accident. So much for that 'crutch'.

Now he's sleeping and time will tell if he wakes up in a dry bed.

Another update tonight, and throughout he weekend...

Tricksy (aka: Parenting WIN)

Warren and I have been struggling with Rhys at meal times lately. I think it's a terrible two's thing. Food jags, constant snacking and lack of attention span to sit at a table at meal time have caused many toddler-parent battles. So a couple days ago I did what any modern parent would do.

I searched the internet for help. My research gave me a couple things to try.

I've tried offering more variety and having more 'designated' snack times. This seems to be working. Warren was a genius the other night when Rhys refused to even taste the pork cutlet we cut up on his plate. Warren began to recite Dr. Suess' 'Green Eggs and Ham', and sure enough got Rhys to taste it. Then Rhys proclaimed he liked it and would eat with a fox, and in a box, in the rain and on a train. SCORE!

Today, for breakfast, I made Rhys a breakfast bagel with egg, ham and cheese. This is something he will eat when we're out, but not at home. So I wrapped it in tin foil to make it look 'bought'. And he voila! Parenting Win #2.

Not Awful. ( changed title)

I have been a Negative Nelly lately.

At a dinner party the other night I was asked "So, how is it now that Rhys is home full time?". "Awful", I replied. Everyone laughed and I proclaimed myself The World's Most Honest Mom. Everyone laughed some more.

But deep down, I regretted that answer instantly. 'Awful' was simply the wrong word. It's not awful at all. I mean - from a purely selfish perspective, it's just really, really, REALLY hard. And frustrating. And often overwhelming. And exhausting. But, the truth is... (and this is VERY hard for a mom who chose to go back to work to admit)...the truth is, Rhys is THRIVING lately. He's happier at home than he used to be. He laughs and smiles more. He's not tired and worn down at the end of the day. His imagination is exploding. He's playing with more of his toys and watching less TV. His linguistic skills are improving everyday with new words, longer sentences and better pronunciation. It's been really wonderful to watch. A far cry from 'awful'. But, it's not easy engaging with him and remaining patient with him while I'm nursing or burping or rocking a baby to sleep at any given moment in the day. And it's easy to focus on the negative.

Last night, as I nursed Kyle at 4:00am, I started to feel incredibly guilty that he would not be getting a full year with me like this, when he's a toddler. And sad that I won't get a year like this with him.

The good days aren't without their bad moments. And the bad days aren't without their good moments, either. The secret is knowing which moments to focus on, I guess.

A Letter To Future Warren and Amanda

Dear Future Warren and Amanda,

When the day comes that you begin to romanticize the newborn phase, glossing it over in your minds as you look back on photos, envying the moms with little bundles in their strollers and thinking to yourself 'I sure hope she is cherishing every moment', please try to remember how much it sucked most of the time.

Best,

Past Amanda

And The Day Went To Shit.

Today was a total roller coaster of successes and failures. Here is a bit of a recap...

1) I rocked this morning.... Had a playdate planned way up north (Rocky Ridge) and was actually out of the house (with both kids!) by 8:40am, and arrived only 15 minutes late at 9:15am. Rhys was well behaved, and Kyle even had a wee bit of a snooze. Success!

2) My attempts to keep Rhys awake in the car were futile (Rhys look! A Choo Choo!) and he fell asleep, meaning the odds of a nap were slim. I thought my luck had turned when he willingly got into his crib. That lasted about ten minutes. He then called out for 'mommy and daddy' for the next hour, and was in a trouble making mood for the rest of the afternoon. Fail!

3) Nana and Grandan show up to lend a quick hand. ( load the dish washer, distract Rhys while I nursed, etc) Success!

4) Rhys needed a diaper change and fought me on it. Turns out his bum was flaming red and sore. So he had an early bath to sooth his poor bum. After the bath he really didn't wanna diaper on, so I figured some air could do him good, and let him be naked in his giraffe towel. Then I had an idea - I'll try him in his big boy underwear! So he put them on and looked SO cute. Then Kyle fell asleep in the baby bjorn and Rhys and I played and I made him dinner and he ate TONS. MAJOR SUCCESS!

4) Then Kyle woke up and needed to nurse. While I was nursing, Rhys was laying on the floor quietly watching TV. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, with the fear of God in his eyes. There were dribbles coming from between his legs. 'Rhysie! Quick! To the the Potty! You're peeing!' So with a baby on my breast I grabbed my toddler and ran to the bathroom. More dribbles were coming now. 'Rhys! Sit in on the Potty! SIT'! He refused and looked terrified. This was out of character because he pees on the potty all the time, 'Rhys - you don't even have to take off your underwear.... Just SIT!!!!' then I noticed the dribbles were brown. Then there were blobs of brown. He was shaking his head and whimpering. I realized I needed to keep my cool, or risk scarring him for life. 'Rhysie. It's okay. You're pooping. If you sit on the potty you can have a big sticker!' He still refused. So I pulled Kyle off my breast ( yes, I was still nursing during this!) and put him in his crib. He of course started wailing, but I had to leave him. I ran back to Rhys who was still 'hovering' over the potty. I pulled off his under wear, which was filled with chunky-yet-runny diareah like poo. Once they were off he sat down, but the damage was done. There I was. Holding a diarrhea filled under wear in one hand, and wiping down my toddlers legs with the other. I was gagging at the smell, but tried to hide it from Rhys. All I could think to say was 'good boy Rhys! Now you get a big sticker!. He smiled. So left his disgusting undies in the sink (the bath hadn't been drained yet)' and left the potty and toilet full of soiled TP, Finished cleaning him up and gave him his bowl of stickers while I sat on on the floor and nursed Kyle in the hallway. I then texted Warren asking when he'd be home. FAIL.

Warren came home from a crummy work day, and was greeted by a screaming, inconsolable gassy infant, a toddler who was not in bed, a bathroom full of poo, and a wife who was on the verge crying and throwing in the shat-filled towel.

I love you, hon.

Paddington Watch, 38 Weeks

38 weeks (9.5 months)

Weight Gain: 29.5 lbs

Baby’s Got Bag

Last week I had my 37 week doctor’s appointment, and the doc mentioned that Paddington is now full term and that he could come anytime and they’d be okay with that. She also mentioned that all my paperwork has been sent to the hospital, so everything is ready to go. I left that appointment in a mild panic. I immediately went to Zellers and purchased newborn diapers, size 1 diapers, some fresh sleepers and receiving blankets and some ‘emergency’ formula. Felt much better after that. With a bassinet at home, he now has a place to sleep, and diapers to poop in. Phew.

Big Brother Rhys

This kid is melting my heart these days. First, when we moved the new change table to the nursery (Rhys’ old room), he insisted on laying on it. I could not believe how big my ‘baby’ looked.


He’s also taken a big interest in a teddy bear he has, and has adopted this teddy bear as his ‘baby sister’. He puts ‘her’ to bed, kisses her, closes the door and says ‘shhhh...baby is sleeping’, and feeds her a bottle while rocking her in his little kid sized rocking chair. I’m thinking the key will be to make sure he feels involved in baby duties and that we let him help whenever we can, no matter how much easier it would be to just do things ourselves. Paddington is going to be a very lucky baby, I think. Did anyone else find their older child liked helping with the baby? Or am I delusional and this is really just a fun game for him to play with an inanimate toy bear? It’s okay to be honest. I’m pretty sure I am fully underestimating how incredibly hard the transition to two children is going to be.

Unexpected Sadness

We gave notice at the daycare today, and both Warren and I were surprised at how sad we feel about taking him out. How ridiculous is that? All the heartache we went through putting him in daycare, and now we’re sad to be taking him out. Seems so silly. But he thrives there, and the daycare Director kept going on about how Rhys’ little buddy ‘Jasper’ will miss him. And it’s true. If Rhys was staying, and Jasper’s mom was having another baby and took him out – I’d be devastated! I think I will always remember Jasper as Rhys’ very first ‘friend’. I’ll miss asking him at the end of everyday ‘what did you do today?’, and hearing his sweet voice answer back with ‘I played! With Jasper and Ms. Connie!’ I have a lump in my stomach about it all, really, which I know doesn’t make any sense. I’m looking forward to the time I’ll have with Rhys at home this year. But I’m still sad about it. I want the best of both worlds. I want my cake, and to eat it too. I’m just going to have to try very hard to make sure he continues to ‘thrive’ at home with me and Paddington.

Belly Pics

Extra cool milestone this week: Today was my last day of work. Baby is due in 12 days, so time to tackle the 'nesting' TO-DO LIST!

Rhys At Age Two: Things I Love & Don’t Love

LOVE: Massively improved communication methods.

DON’T LOVE: Massively exaggerated meltdowns when improved communication methods fail.

LOVE: Ability to eat almost anything we eat.

DON’T LOVE: That he chooses not to eat most it.

LOVE: Frequent 10 second ‘hug’ breaks.

DON’T LOVE: The squirming-away-from-me-crotch-kicking that ensues when the 10 seconds is up.

LOVE: That he has his own distinct interests (helicopters, airplanes, balloons, dinosaurs, Elmo, robots, guitars).

DON’T LOVE: His desire to satiate all these interests at the exact. same. time.

LOVE: How much he idolizes his Daddy.

DON’T LOVE: The tears that flow when Daddy has to leave.

LOVE: The full on lip to lip kisses (and the Eskimo kisses are pretty awesome too).

DON’T LOVE: Knowing that the he will someday recoil is disgust at the thought of kissing his mom.

LOVE: The sweetest little voice in the whole wide world, and hearing that voice say ‘Mommy’. Tack-u mommy. Bess you mommy. Go away mommy (okay, maybe not that one).

I've been trying to capture his sweet voice on camera, but he always gets distracted as soon as he sees the video camera. He just wants to 'watch Rhysie' (I think we're raising a narcissist). Anyway, here are my best clips so far.

Rhys ABC's:

One and a Half

Rhys, today you are a year and a half old and I can hardly believe it.

Some days, however, you seem more like a two year old, so I shouldn't be that surprised. I've heard of the 'Terrible Twos' and some moments feel like you're already there.

You've got personality. You've got attitude. You've got preferences. When you decide you like something, you want it all the time. When you learn a new word, you say it all the time. Without a doubt, you are the ruler of our house and I challenge myself everyday to remember that your dad and I are the grown-ups and we are in charge. Because it rarely feels like we are.

I've been reminiscing a lot lately about your newborn days, and how back then I could place you, in my mind, in a perfect little box that contained all my hopes, dreams and expectations for you and who you would grow up to be. You are busting out of that box everyday. Each day reminds me that you are your own little person. I do not control your feelings, your moods or your interests. As much as I'd love to have control over some of those things, at least some of the time, I'm glad I don't, because it's been a lot of fun getting to know you. A movie, a story, a book - they're all more exciting when you don't know what's coming next.

Rhys, you are a clown. And I love you, Bubsy.

(Rhys wearing his mama's new EMU boots. He said 'Booo, Booo!' and, with a bit of a struggle, but the boots on all by himself.)

16 Months

Dear Mr. Rhys,

The months since your first birthday have whizzed by, and they've been filled with highs and lows. One thing I'm learning about 'having kids' is that it's easy to gloss over each passing stage, and forget the miserable bits. This is because there is a beautiful bright light that you emit into our lives, no matter how crumby a time we're having at any given moment. I want to make an effort to document our growing pains, and joys, with the same detail.

Joys:

• Watching you LEARN. The child rearing books are right...mind numbing repetition works. It's hard to describe the elation I felt when I turned the page of your picture book (that we'd seen dozens of times) to reveal an image of a train, and unprompted you instantly pumped your fist in the air and proudly whispered 'tsuu!tsuu!', and then smiled up at me for reassurance. "THAT'S RIGHT BABY! Choo Choo Train!!". In that moment you taught me that even though you are not yet talking, you are most certainly LISTENING. And absorbing. And interpreting. And storing. You are already more complex than you appear. I am so proud. You get more and more words by the day (I use the term 'word' loosely - more like syllables that your dad & I recognize as words) but you still don't say mum or dad. The one true 'word' you have mastered very recently, is NO. You have also learned some of your body parts. You can point to your nose, ears, mouth, feet and belly, and you blink your eyes when asked 'Where are Rhys' EYES?'.

• Watching you develop PREFERENCES. You have developed a love of books, which is lovely, but also exhausting. Sometimes, your dad & I just want you to PLAY BY YOURSELF for a minute. I know that you don't mind hearing nursery Rhymes ad nauseum, but grown-ups can only physically handle so many row-row-row-your-boats before their brains explode. Sorry, Rhys, that's just science. Mama doesn't make the rules of the Universe. You like books, but not all books are created equal. Your favorites right now are your Baby Einstein Look & Seek picture book, your 2 Halloween/Pumpkin books and your 'DOGS' book that has the tabs you can pull that make the tails wag. And your all-time favorite right now is 'Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb'. If I do or say something that reminds you of that book (like recite the words by memory, or drum on my knee with my fingers) you will run to your bedroom, find it on your bookshelf, and bring it to me. Your favorite way to 'read' books, is to point out different pictures on on the page. "Show mummy the....MOON! Show mummy...a STAR!". So far you can identify the following images in a book, with a 90% accuracy rate: moon, star, cow, bumble bee, airplane, frog, elephant, dog, cat, ghost, bunny, pumpkin, bird, bubble, boat, ducky, banana, ball. When you're not sure (or when you just want to make us laugh) you shrug your shoulders and lift your hands in air as if to say 'I dunno'. This is something you must have learned at daycare.

• HUGS. You have finally discovered to joy of cuddling, and will relax in my arms instead of always trying to squirm away. I especially love the 3 second 'hug breaks' you take while playing. "Well, mum's right there, so I might as well give her a hug - oh look, my golf clubs!", and off you go.

Pains:

• MOLARS. You now have 12 teeth, 4 of which are molars. Those evil suckers look huge in your soft toddler gums. We're 80% sure they are the reason your night time sleep habits have gone to hell in a handbag. Ever since you were 2 months old, you have slept like a champion most nights. You spoiled us in that regard. And now, for the last month or so, we're struggling to cope with your 2-3 times a night wake-ups. SCREAMING. Crying. Pouting. EVERY FRIGGING NIGHT. With no fever and nothing visibly wrong, there is only so much Advil, sippy cups full of water and rocking you in our arms that we can do before we begin to wonder if you are really in pain, or if we're somehow creating these bad habits in our attempts to soothe you. The self doubt is almost as agonizing as the lack of sleep.

• MOODS. Because none of us have had a solid, uninterrupted sleep for a very long time, we're all moody. Personally, I get irritable, impatient and some days I just feel angry in general. It really underlines how important the basic need for SLEEP really is. Because when I'm like this, I can see it and feel it but am powerless to turn it around. I just don't feel like myself. Your Dad's lack of sleep usually manifests itself as stress. After a bad night sleep, you will usually just roam the house whining, looking for trouble, touching things you know you shouldn't touch, and tossing your toys on the floor like a spoiled brat. But we FORGIVE ourselves and each other. THIS TOO SHALL PASS. Or so we're told. At least so far it's nothing a good nap can't cure.

• MOBILITY. Rhys, you have no fear, and obviously no concept of danger. You have started pushing items together so that you can climb up onto things. I swear to God Above that I witnessed you nearly ESCAPE from your crib. In the video baby monitor I watched you stand up on some stacked stuffed animals, and simultaneously pull yourself up, nearly doing a somersault over the rail onto your head. Luckily you didn't quite manage it - this time. We may need to invest in a crib tent, though, because 16 months is way too early to move you to a toddler bed.

For my readers who didn't have the energy to read all that (and I don't blame you), here are some pics...:-)

On Rhys' 16 month 'anniversary' we went to the zoo early in the morning.

Rhys was very skeptical of the playground...and the lack of other children in it:

Look - a fake Kangaroo! :

Now...a REAL Kangaroo!:

Lower teeth!:

Rhys & Warren on Remembrance Day 2010:

Rhys did great for the 1st 15 minutes of the ceremony, but predictably started to whine and fuss during the moment of silence. So typical.

Kijiji Spree

For anyone who doesn't know what Kijiji is...it's basically a centralized online network of classified adds (got the definition from Wikipedia). In other words, you can buy used stuff from people you don't know, for much less than you'd buy it new. Kind of like an online garage sale.

Rhys is so 'busy' these days, I was dying for some new items to occupy him. So I went on a mini-binge.

Over the weekend, I drove to Dalhousie to get this Lego Table:

To Okotoks to buy this train table (which also came with a bunch of train track & Thomas trains that we'll give Rhys later):

And to Aspen Meadows to get this darling table & chairs:

Now, he doesn't really play with these things in the way I imagined he would. You know, by sitting nicely and reciting his ABC's while he builds an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower. No. Instead he just climbs up on it all and puts his life danger.

The Honeymoon Is Over

The first couple weeks being back at work were great. I won’t lie.

The quiet bus ride, sipping a latte. The morning chit chat with co-workers where people talked about stuff OTHER than how long their baby did or did not sleep last night. The meetings where tasks were assigned and lists were made. The peaceful time at my desk, being ‘Creative Amanda’, writing scripts, with all my favourite photos of Rhys cycling by in my digital picture frame. The lunches that I could eat, at my own pace. The steaming afternoon coffee that was still hot when I swallowed the last drop. Heck, I even got to be on set again, saying hi and catching up with all the crew members I used work with on a monthly basis in my past life. I was me again. It felt great.

Now that I’ve been back, just shy of a month, it’s dawning on me that waking up at 6am every day, no matter that I only slept for 2 or 3 hours because of a sick, restless toddler, is a permanent reality. That time to blog (and read blogs)and go the gym, oh – and connect with my husband in a meaningful way, are falling off the to do list fast. By the time the evening has unfolded there isn’t any time. I’m not the type of person who will stay up until midnight to ‘get things done’. Sleep is a precious commodity I don’t take for granted. I’ve already experienced afternoons at work where, if only I had a more private work area, I wouldn’t have hesitated to rest my head on my desk and have a power nap.

I am so tired.

The house is messy. The clothes are dirty. The shrubs in the yard are unkempt and unruly. The garbage can in the kitchen is beginning to stink. The potted plants are brown, and yet, they remain on the front steps to greet visitors. The highchair and stroller are caked with smashed cheerios and applesauce. The fridge is full of nutritious food that has wilted and died while I cooked frozen pizza for the 3rd time in a week. And, when there is a moment or two where I could actually clean or be productive in some way, all I want to do is SIT. And beat myself up for not being more energetic.

I’m sure I can’t blame the fatigue entirely on being back at work, because it’s not like I was saving the world in my spare time before. In fact, if I’m being truly honest, I think I’d be even more tired if I wasn’t back at work.

Simply put, Rhys is just a handful these days. I’ve gotta say, 13 months is not my favourite age thus far. He’s walking and exploring which is lovely, but his little world is still revolving solely on his selfish instincts and any time he cannot touch or hold or eat or climb that ONE THING he has his heart set on, it’s a catastrophic event in his mind. He can’t communicate his moods, his preferences, his discomfort, his boredom, his hunger, his fatigue...all he can do is whine and cry and scream and stomp his feet. If I was still at home every day, all day, with him at this stage, I would probably lock myself in the bathroom and cry.

I want to write about this phase, because by writing about it I’m reminding myself that it is, indeed, a phase.

Another 'Parenting Right of Passage'

This story begins with a boy who hadn’t had a dirty diaper all day.

And ends with that boy’s mother yelling down the hall to her husband during bathtime...”Come quick! We’ve got FLOATERS!”.

We'll let your imagination fill in the middle bits.

"Motherly"

Yesterday Warren had his first official 'Daddy Day' with Rhys. Today was the first day of our new 'work day' routine, where Warren takes Rhys to daycare and picks him up. He picked him up around 3:15pm, and since I don't get home until 5:30pm, he had even more alone time with Rhys today. We had this conversation tonight after dinner at his brother's house...

Amanda: I've noticed a change in you, already.

Warren: What do you mean?

Amanda: Like tonight, when we were leaving, you knew where Rhys' shoes were when I asked.

Warren: Yah, because I was the one who took them off.

Amanda: And, you buckled Rhys into his carseat without asking me to help or check that it was tight enough.

Warren: Um Hmmm.

Amanda: And after bath time, you didn't dissappear into the office to check Facebook, instead you hung around to help straighten up his room and see if I wanted you to read him his bedtime story...It's like you've suddenly...become...

Warren: More Motherly?

Amanda: Yes! More Motherly. It's awesome.

(Editor's note: I do not want to imply, in any way, that Warren never used to help or do things with Rhys on his own. That couldn't be further from the truth. But I think us 'Mothers' have a certain way we hover and do things and want things done that is very different from how fathers function. So it stood out very strongly to me when Warren started functioning that way.)

Folk Fest Highlight #1

Last night, as we were packing up our gear to leave Folk Fest, a man who had been sitting next to us came up to Warren and said, "You have a very well behaved, handsome son", and then he shook Warren's hand.

Huh. I didn't think Rhys was being anything but a typical one year old. Not really wanting to stay in one place very long, watermelon juice dripping down his face onto his white shirt, not wanting to fall asleep... But thank-you Mr. Nice Stranger! Thank-you very much!

Moral of this story? If you ever see a family with a young child/children, do not hesitate to compliment them on their child/children. It will totally make their day!

Hopefully we have more 'nice stranger' stories to share tomorrow...now we're off for a fun filled day of music, dancing, food and all-around-general-hippy-ness. Oh, and hopefully some napping.