"Merry Christmas" on the radio is causing quite the excitement. We've explained to Ben, Maddie, and Jon that it isn't Christmas Day yet, and they don't quite understand that Christmas is a season or a feeling. So, we might be toddling along down the road listening to carols on the radio, then a song sings, "It's Christmas Day...." Suddenly, Ben is shouting, "Hooray!! It's Christmas day -- the guy just said so!" Maddie will correct him, "It isn't Christmas yet; it hasn't snowed yet!" Jon will jump in with his opinion, "Did you see Santa? It can't be Christmas today." Ben will shout over their comments, "But the guy just said so!!" This is a circular conversation that doesn't end until I ask them to stop... No, it doesn't stop then, either. I have to raise my voice to be heard -- sometimes I honk the horn just to get them to stop for a split second so they might hear my instructions, "STOP YELLING!!!" Yeah...it's really hard to parent effectively when you can't be heard. I've tried the whispering thing, and I end up about as obvious as a slight wind. Then we go to the common car rule, "Quit arguing, quit looking at each other, everyone look out your own window." ...then I can turn the radio to the music again and peacefully enjoy hearing about silver bells, shepherds watching their flocks at night, Frosty the snowman, a little town called Bethlehem, and then, "I heard the bells on Christmas Day," and Ben shouts, "Hooray!! It's Christmas day!" ... and it starts all over again like the movie Groundhog Day.
Each day (well, at least the days we plan to leave the house) I send the kids to the bathroom to comb their hair. All of them have really taken to this simple task, and it has freed up some time for me to sip my coffee instead of having to gulp it. Maddie does her hair quite well, combing it a couple hundred times as she gazes into the mirror. I almost always have to ask her to finish the task so someone else can use the step stool, but when she emerges from the powder room, her hair is exactly as it should be. Ben and Jon (and sometimes Will) are another story. When I ask the boys to please comb their hair, they often rush to the bathroom with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning (if you don't have boys, you should know that this type of behavior can be intimidating to a mama who like everything in its place and expects boys to drag their feet for this task.) I usually have to remind them to go in one at a time (to keep little minds from working together to make trouble,) but the story is the same -- they LOVE to soak their blond hair with a wet comb as the faucet runs and runs and runs and runs. When they emerge, they often are sporting a gravity-defying do and I have to bite my tongue to keep from correcting it. Unless it's a picture day, I [try] to be okay with it. I let them march proudly into their preschool class and I hope that people understand I am trying to raise confident children, not children who are constantly corrected for things that don't matter. So when you see my boys, please, please understand that I DID ask them to comb their hair even though I KNEW it would look more normal if I had just skipped the comb all together.
Potty training is progressing. Maddie and Ben wear big-kid undies, Jon still isn't interested. A few weeks ago, Ben said he had to go potty and I could tell it was an emergency. Luckily, we were home, and as he ran by me, I told him, "Hold it till you get to the potty!" Isn't that a common term? When I heard the sobbing, I went to help him. He was standing in a puddle in the bathroom and his hands were dripping wet. "What happened, Ben?" "Mama, you told me to hold it, but it wouldn't stay in my hands." "But why didn't you pee in the potty it is right here?" "Mama, you told me to HOLD it."... my child was obeying my words. We cleaned up the puddle together and it has been a long, long time since I told anyone to hold it.
The other day, I picked up the little ones from school and we drove to the big kid school and waited in line to pick up Will. When we were driving toward the school Ben said he had to go potty. I told him he would have to wait. As we sat in the pick-up line at the school, he reminded me more urgently that he really needed to pee. I sat wondering if I should let him pee in the grass in front of everyone just to keep the car dry, but I wasn't any happier about that idea than I was cleaning up wet carpet in the car. In the end, I had him pee in an empty Starbucks cup. Know what the worst part was??? .... as soon as Ben buckled his seat belt, Jon insisted he couldn't hold it either but he had to poop. This is the life! :)
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