Less than a month...

To be specific, four weeks from today I should be in the hospital giving birth.  I finally found an OB-gyn that I really like, who is willing to induce me on my due date if Alyssa decides to hang out like Kelcey and Ben did. 

It is such a wonderful feeling, to know that, yes, my feet and veins are swollen to truly gargantuan proportions, and I'm lumbering around like a water buffalo trying to do the tango, but, really, there's a definite end date to it all.  I don't just have to wait, and hope, and then wait some more, with no results. 

If Alyssa does decide to come before her due date, fine (I am NOT holding my breath), but if she follows the trend, then I know that July 24th is the big day.  Because it is definitely gonna be time to move out and stop paying rent! 

Can I hear a "woo-woo" for modern medicine!!  :o)

Poop-tacular

I thought for a while about what to call this post:  Poop-tastrophe, Rise of the Planet of the Poop, Poop-stravaganza...you get the idea.

Any one of them would have been sufficient to let my loyal readers know, I am having a problem with poop!

Well, not with my poop, with Ben's poop.  Or to be more specific, the fact that even though it's been almost a month since we started potty training, he has only gone poop in the toilet ONCE. 

Yes you read that right.  For the last 3 1/2 weeks, almost every time he has had to go poop he has gone in his pants.

His older brother, Jarom, didn't like going poop in the toilet either, but he would save it up until I put his pull-up on him at night, and then go.  It was annoying, but it wasn't as completely disgusting as going in underwear and pants, which I have to swish out in the toilet, and then wash in hot water.  I have a perpetual load of laundry in the washing machine, just from Ben's accidents.  And for those of you who know how much I hate doing laundry, that's a big deal.

I figured that Ben would get a clue after his first poop accident, just like he did when he wet his pants.  He didn't like how it felt, and decided that he would much rather go in the toilet.   And, really, he's almost an expert about going pee in the toilet.

He will usually tell me when he has to go, even if he has to stop playing, or come in from outside, or whatever, take care of business, and then go back to whatever he was doing. Lots of times he'll go completely on his own, without even telling me first--the only sign being that he's naked from the waist down, and I need to help him put his shorts back on. 

Of course, he will have occasional accidents, but what kid doesn't?  But he got the peeing thing so quickly, like within a week, that I really thought that this was going to be so much easier than it was with Jarom.  So close, and yet sooooooo far away.

Yesterday was the last straw though.  I was in my room, when he came in, sans underwear or shorts, with a guilty look on his face, and poop on his hands.  He had taken off his underwear and shorts, and actually peed in the toilet, and then gone in the playroom and pooped on the floor!!!!!

I cleaned him up, cleaned up the floor (I swear, we should have stock in Resolve pet stain carper cleaner), and then put him in time out.  I didn't scream, and I didn't spank him, but he was in time out the whole time it took me to clean everything up.

Usually, whenever he has an accident he is no longer allowed to go out and play, or ride bikes (his favorite thing to do) because I want him realize that it's a big deal, but also because its a natural consequence of his behavior.  If he pees or poops in his clothes, then he has used up his clean pants for that day, so he just gets new underwear.  And he can't go outside in just underwear.  (OK, he would go outside in just his underwear, and be perfectly fine with it, but then the neighbors look at me weird.)

I thought that would get through to him eventually, but, so far, it seems like it's brand new info every single time he has an "incident".  He gets upset that he can't go outside, and tells me that he's sorry that he had an accident, and that he will tell me the next time he has to go poop, but then nothing actually changes, and I'm stuck swishing underwear out in the toilet.

The one time he did go poop in the toilet it wasn't because he told me, but because I spotted him hiding in the corner, looking very intent, and I knew that he was about ready, so I whisked him onto the toilet and didn't let him get off until he had produced. 

We still gave him the truck we had as a reward, and the Hershey Kisses, and made a big deal about it, and I really thought (again) that maybe that's all he needed, to see how it worked one time--get over his mental block, or something.  But then he went poop in his pull-up that very night.  So, nada.

After yesterday's incident I took the reward truck back, and told him that he had to go poop in the toilet to get it back, but I don't know if that will have any effect. Or maybe I am being too harsh.  But this has got to stop.

Anyone out there have anything that worked with their boys?  Cause I am seriously out of ideas.

Boy, this is probably more thinking about poop than you've done in a while, huh?  Aren't you glad you read this post?  :o)

One of My Best Blessings

This morning was horrible, and humbling, and wonderful, almost all at the same time. Today I had to bake bread for the week, so I started grinding the wheat while the kids were watching Sesame Street. Kelcey was home from school with a fever, but was doing much, much better.

While the wheat was grinding I sat in the chair in the Family Room and did some hand sewing that I’ve been needing to do, so my back was to the kitchen. Plus, the volume on the TV was really loud so that the kids could hear it above the wheat grinder. Which all means that I couldn’t see or hear what was going on in the kitchen. Ben had gotten up, but I thought that he went up to the playroom. Not so.

When I finished enough sewing to take a break and get up, I saw that Ben had taken the top off of the grinder, and a bunch of the wheat had spilled. And then he played in it so that it was all over the place. EVERYWHERE. It was all over the counter and the floor, all the way to the kitchen table.

I was operating under a fairly tight schedule (when am I not?) of grinding wheat, then baking bread, and then paying bills, and then putting a photo book together, not to mention the 7 other things I had on my to-do list, and today is piano lessons, and Activity Girls, and Cub Scouts, and… I saw it all going down the drain. I was totally overwhelmed, and I just couldn’t see how I was going to get it all cleaned up, and then do everything else too.

So, the horrible part?  I am extremely ashamed to say that I lost it. Completely.  Horribly.

I started screaming and crying, asking, how he could do that? I grabbed Ben, gave him a three really hard swats, took him into the bathroom for a time-out and set him down (none too gently, either), and then beat on the closet door so that I wouldn’t beat my child.  Seriously, my thumbs are bruised from hitting the door so hard.  Oh, I am so pathetic!

I told Heavenly Father that I just couldn’t do this, that it was all too hard—and somehow, it wasn’t just the wheat anymore, it was the pregnancy, and the kids, and all of the other things that I have to do.

After screaming and crying a little bit more, I got the heck out of Dodge, because I knew that I just had to get out of the situation before I did anything that I would regret. More than I already do, anyway.

You know, I had thought that I was doing a pretty good job with the pregnancy hormones, not letting them get the best of me, not being “that” mom, , but then something like this happens, and I am out for the count. Sigh…

So, I just sat there, blubbering and feeling overwhelmed and sorry for myself, when my mom called to ask me a question. I think the Lord knew that I needed serious help, because there was no coincidence about the timing of that call. My mom has always been my best support, and able to help me with whatever I need—talk me off the proverbial ledge, if you will—and she really helped this time. By the time I explained everything, and she gave me some suggestions, I was able to calm down, and stop crying, and realize that it wasn’t the end of the world.

Ok, so here’s the really wonderful part: While I had locked myself away, crying and feeling like I couldn’t handle it anymore, Kelcey, all by herself, got out the sweeper and dust pan, and just started cleaning up. She even shook out the rug so that she could get all the wheat that had gotten on that as well. By the time I emerged, telling myself that "I. Can. Do. This!", Kelcey had a whole section of the floor clear. She gave me such a sweet smile (not even holding a grudge because I had screamed and scared her and Ben half to death) and said, “Look, Mommy! I’m cleaning up!” She even asked if we could clean up together.

I was so humbled, and so truly grateful for everything she had done. All of a sudden, it didn’t seem so overwhelming, and I knew that I could do it, especially with her help and loving attitude. Together, we cleaned up it all in about 20 minutes.

Mostly I am so grateful for her sweet spirit of love and service, willing to help me, even though I totally didn’t deserve it, but she knew that I needed it. She just saw that I needed help, and she started cleaning. Without me saying a word. And she even knew how she should clean up!

As I think about it, I am just so humbled that the Lord helped me in my moment of need, sending my own personal angels: first my mom to help me calm down, and then my little girl, barely 6 years old, who gave loving service when I felt like I couldn’t do it all by myself. Because of them, I didn’t have to do it all by myself. I wasn’t alone. Just like we’re never really alone. He always knows what we need. I still can’t believe that my prayers were answered so quickly and completely, especially when I had just proved how messed up I really was.

This is one of my most amazing, absolutely wonderful, favorite moments with Kelcey, and I never want to forget it. I am so unbelievably lucky to have her for my daughter. She is one of my best blessings.

Potty Training - 4th time's the charm

Once we were sufficiently recovered from our Disney trip (read: all the laundry was done, and we had milk in the house again) I decided that we were going to potty train Ben. He really got interested in using the toilet while we were on our trip, I think because I dragged him into every single one since I had to go all the time, so he had more exposure than usual. Plus he's just ready, and it was time.

We bought 4 packages of Lightning McQueen underwear (his choice) and on Monday we went cold turkey. He only had one accident before he figured out what "that feeling" was, and he went in the toilet way more times than he didn't.

However, Tuesday was a totally different story. He absolutely refused to use the toilet, notwithstanding my begging, tears, and bribes. The honeymoon was over, you could say. The only way I broke through to him was to wait until he literally couldn't hold it anymore and was peeing down his leg, then picked him up, and just sat him down so that he finished on the toilet. Then, of course, I made a big deal about how great he did, and broke out the chocolate candy that I was saving for rewarding #2 behavior.

Since then it has been much, much, much better. He hasn't had an accident in two days, and he will come and tell me when he has to go, so I don't have to follow him around like a hovering hummingbird, constantly asking if he needs to "use the potty". 

Frankly, even though this is my 4th child, potty training still kind of freaks me out, so I am grateful beyond words that Ben seems to have "gotten" it so quickly.  Yet another tender mercy, no?

Plus, I think the fact that I switched to M&M's for the reward has also helped a lot. I mean, really, who doesn't love chocolate?

Walt Disney World 2012

We just got back from our Walt Disney World trip a couple of weeks ago, which was awesome, as you can imagine, and completely magical. Which makes sense, cause it's Disney World, and all.

One really nice thing is that we stayed in the "cabins" at Walt Disney World (they are actually trailers, with logs nailed around the outside, but it was still very nice) and you could park right in front of your individual cabin. Plus there was a little kitchen, a separate bedroom, and a Murphy-bed in the living room that Jeff and I used, so we had more space to spread out, compared to a regular hotel room.

We booked our trip through AAA, and one of our perks was a "diamond" parking pass, so we got to park really close to the entrances of the parks. Compared with waiting for the buses, wrestling our stroller onto the bus, and then riding the bus with a ton of people, and wrestling our stroller off the bus, etc. this was a dream come true! We just walked out of our cabin, got in the car, drove to the park, went to our special little parking area, and walked in. Most of the time it only took around 15 minutes (and hardly ever more than a 1/2 hour) to get from our front door to being inside the parks.

Unfortunately, I was already pretty wiped out with fun activities because the kids had been tracked out for 3 weeks before we went, and we'd done museums, and parks, and play dates until I was ready to cry. I think I did a couple of times, actually. Pregnancy hormones are the best. Also, the kids were sick of each other from all the "togetherness" of the previous 3 weeks, so there was more arguing amongst the troops than I think there otherwise would have been.

Note to self: either do big trips at the beginning of track-out, or just take the kids out of school. They'll enjoy it more, and I won't be so tired. On the whole, I think I did pretty well, though, considering that I was at the end of my 2nd trimester, and waddling around like a duck out of water. A duck with varicose veins, no less.

We tried to give Jarom and Taran some "big kid time" in each of the parks, so we would split up for a little while each day, and Jeff would take the two oldest on the roller-coasters that I couldn't go on anyway, and I would take the little kids and do something else fun. Of course, that usually included a "magical" trip to the bathroom as well, because of yes, the aforementioned pregnancy. I think I literally visited every single bathroom in every single park at least once during our trip, if not more than once.

Dad and the big kids really enjoyed Space Mountain, Splash Mountain (Kelcey got to go on that one too), Mission Space, the Rockin' Roller Coaster, and Star Tours. However, Expedition Everest was too high (shocker), and the Tower of Terror was just, well, terrifying. I know, I know. You're thinking, you let an 8 and 10 year old ride those? Poor judgment on our part, I agree, but they really, really wanted to, and they fit the height requirement, so I figured it couldn't be too bad.

Yeah, I was wrong.

But I think our favorite rides were actually the ones we got to do altogether, like Pirates of the Caribbean, or Winnie the Pooh—especially Toy Story Mania, a ride at Hollywood Studios, where you try to hit 3D targets like you're in a carnival. But a gazillion times cooler than that! It was the only ride that they kids said, as they were getting off the ride, "We've got to do that again!"

One of the coolest things that we were able to do was to meet quite a few Characters while we were there. 

Kelcey got to meet Snow White:

We had lunch with Winnie the Pooh and his friends:

They met Tinkerbell (Jarom said that he didn't want to go, but later admitted that she was pretty funny):

Ben got to meet Lightning McQueen and Mater:

Taran got to meet King Louis:

and then we got  to have dinner with Cinderella and 4 other princesses!  (the girls were in absolute HEAVEN):

We also had a couple of extra fun moments while we were there.  While we were on the Carousel in Fantasyland we realized that Taran and Kelcey were riding Cinderella's horse!  We had read about it in a trivia book I checked out of the library, and had been keeping our eyes out for it.  (Also, a cast member told us that they were on Cinderella's horse, so it's true, right?)  Apparently, it's the only one with a gold ribbon on the tail. Pretty neat. 

And we found the mystery wedding ring in the pavement at the Haunted Mansion!  We had been looking for it, but I guess when they re-did the ride they moved it from where it was at the exit, to a place in the waiting line in the cemetary.  The first time through we missed it, but we asked a cast memeber where it was, so when we went through later that night, we were looking very closely, and Jarom found it!  So cool!

We all had a truly fantastic time, and each of the kids has longingly sighed, at one time or another, "Mom, I wish we were back in Disney World." Even Ben has asked several times to go back to the "Tiny Chairs," his name for our cabin, because there was a child size table and chairs in a corner.

Even with all the small issues, it was absolutely wonderful, and actually, yeah, Jeff and I wish we could go back too. :o)

Track-Out Fun. . . Sort Of

The kids have all been tracked out for the last 2 1/2 weeks, and I am really starting to get worn out. I've tried to do several fun things every week, with varying degrees of success, but I think they've enjoyed themselves. We've ridden bikes at one park (Rolesville Main St.), ridden scooters at another (Anderson Point), had a family picnic (Miller Park), ridden the train and the carousel after another picnic (Pullen Park), and gone to the children's museum (Marbles), plus had several play dates.


Actually, we were doing pretty well until yesterday. I took the kids to Durham Life and Science museum, which is usually tons of fun. Unfortunately, within a 1/2 hour of our arrival, Kelcey decided to go into a water-pumping section of the playground with her shoes and socks on, and then, when they got soaking wet, she decided to go barefoot, and then, as she was running around, she tripped (my girls are really clutzy for some reason), and cut her toe.

Of course, I could have done a better job of being sympathetic, but I was so irritated that she got into the water / took off her socks and shoes without permission, that I just cleaned her up as best as I could and made her put her wet shoe right back on.  I mean, what else was she going to wear, right? So, the poor girl is walking around for hours with a hurt toe, in a wet sneaker, and a mother that doesn't want to hear any whining.

I felt really awful when we got home and I took her shoes to wash them, and I realized that she had bled through the fabric, all over the toe section! And when I really cleaned her up, putting on the correct bandages, etc., I realized that it was a fairly deep cut, and she was probably in a lot of pain, and not just being a drama queen. Yet another check-mark in my "best-mom-ever" book. Sigh.

Another reason that yesterday's trip wasn't the most stellar of our outings is that the museum is absolutely huge, and we only had a limited amount of time. It's got a building with inside exhibits, and an outside part with lots of different sections, and to do both either takes one r-e-a-l-l-y long day, or a couple of mornings/afternoons in a row. Well, I didn't have a whole day, nor was I going to spend two half days in a row there. All I had was one afternoon, and that was it. So the kids had to choose what they wanted to do, and we didn't even get to do everything on the list. As you can imagine, it was meltdown city at 5:00 when the announcement came that they were closing.

Then, when we stopped at the bathroom on our way to the car, I realized that Ben had had a total blowout in his diaper, the kind with little bits that won't come off with just wipes—you really have to just wash the kid off.  Thankfully, we were the only ones in the bathroom by that time, so I was able to sit Ben down in a sink and wash him with soap and water. After I got him totally cleaned up (and the sink, and the changing area) it was 20 minutes later, and we had a janitor waiting impatiently for us to exit. It was a little embarrassing to have Ben in nothing but a diaper and t-shirt (his jeans were not salvageable) as we walked to the car, but since were the last people in the place, there weren't too many witnesses.

We're going to the zoo on Wednesday.  Heaven help us.

Here She Comes...Miss Alyssa Rose

We had our ultrasound on Tuesday, and if you couldn't figure it out from the post title, it's a girl!!  'Cause, man, how twisted would that be to name a boy "Alyssa Rose"?  That would take all sorts of psychotic.  And thankfully, I'm not quite there yet. 

Actually, to get off on a massive tangent, the last time I was at the temple I was talking to a lady while we were waiting for the session to start, and we were talking about the names that we had, and that led to a discussion of names in general, and she told me that her mom's parents wanted a boy, and even though she was born a girl they still named her "John".  Seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I can't put enough exclamation points on how wrong that is!!  Not to mention completely selfish.  The lady told me that her mom had a good sense of humor about it by the time she was older, but I bet she wasn't so laid back about it when she was in school.  Please, that almost makes "Apple", or "Magnus" seem normal by comparison.

So, ANYWAYYYYYYY... The ultrasound went really well, and both the tech and the doctor agreed that it was a girl.  I had thought that it was a girl even before the tech told us, because, you know, hey, it's not my first time. :o)   (TV show reference, anyone?)

It was extra good to hear that everything looked really good, and was functioning the right way, etc., because right, right after I found out I was pregnant we went on vacation, and I got into the hotel hot tub, without even thinking about it.  At least until I got out, and remembered that I was pregnant, and hot tubs were on the "no-no's"list.  So then I was freaking out, and sobbing in my bed at 3:00 in the morning, sure that I had doomed our child to spina bifida, or other birth defects.  Isn't it funny how things are the worst at 3 in the morning?

But, at least at this point, things seem to be going very well.  As a matter of fact, the doctor said, a couple of times, that our baby was as healthy as you could hope for.  Fantastic!!

I was kind of hoping for a girl (even though a boy would have been great too), so I'm thrilled that she's really going to be part of our family.  Now I just need to pray that she isn't high-maintenance, or a drama queen.  I've already got a few of those.  :o)