Archive | October, 2008

No Deal!

30 Oct

Whine: Potty training stinks. Literally.

Cheese: Ave the Brave is home from the hospital and doing great!

 

I’d like to start this post with a disclaimer: I believe in disciplining children. In our house offenses such as hitting, biting, spitting and ripping out sister’s hair do not go uncorrected. I have learned in my very short stint as a parent, however, that there are some things you cannot make a child do. Specifically: eat, sleep or go potty. In these cases, your best bets are trickery, bribery and flat out begging.

Fast forward to this morning. Big Sis knows how to use the potty to, how do I put this delicately, um, go “Number One.” But she has thusfar refused to even consider using the potty to do the other thing. This means that I can either leave her in a pull-up all day and have her regress on the skills she already knows. (Because why would you use the potty to tinkle when you have a convenient system already in place?) Or I can put her in her princess panties with the full knowledge that I will be cleaning out some very un-princess-like substances several times each day. It’s a rock and a hard place, people, let me tell you.

Between the clean up and the astronomical cost of pull-ups, you can see why it behooves me to potty train this kid of mine. So I spend all morning watching and waiting. At the first sign of, well, you know, activity, I leap into action. Faster than Superman on Redbull, I grab Big Sis, run to the bathroom and place her on the potty. She takes umbrage at being interrupted and procedes to wail and howl. After approximately two to four time outs (for the unnecessary screaming, flailing and kicking) we are finally ready to begin negotiations. 

I do my best Howie Mandel and start with a low offer, keeping it very casual. “You know, Big Sis, if you go Number Two on the potty, Mommy will give you some candy.” Unimpressed, she yawns. No deal.

So I sweeten the deal a little bit and offer a cookie, or two, or three. The offer registers without even a twitch. No deal.

I’m getting desperate now, it’s time to pull out the big guns. I try to put on my best “breezy” voice and mention that if she were, in fact, to happen to maybe go on the potty, just this once, we could go get that new Veggie Tales movie she’s been wanting. To which she replies, “I don’t want that movie; it’s too scary.” No deal. Well played, Big Sis, well played.

The game ends with an empty potty and a full pull-up. I’ve lost and she’s won. Although I’m not sure exactly what she’s won, except the ability to work Mommy like a marionette. By the time this is over I’ll be offering a pony and a trip to Disneyworld. But at what I save on pull-ups, I might just come out even.

Gold Stars (Volume 1)

29 Oct

Whine: We had to go up to the local children’s hospital today to visit our niece Avery (heretofore referred to as “Ave the Brave”) who was undergoing a few exploratory procedures. Poor Aves.

Cheese: Two Words–Taco Tuesday 

 

This is my first installment of what I hope will become a fixture here at Whine and Cheese: Gold Stars. Being a teacher at heart, I find the gold star a perfect way to say “Way to Go!” or “Thanks!” This first edition is far from exhaustive, I’m just going with things that stood out today. So if you didn’t make the list today, be patient, there are plenty of Gold Stars to go around. 

And the gold stars go to. . . .

1) Aves the Brave. One tough seven-month-old cookie. She’s got tubes up her nose and down her throat, and little arm braces (picture the kid from A Christmas Story in his snowsuit) to keep her from ripping out important pieces of medical equipment. Yet she was still smiling, sweet and giving running commentary about most everything.

2) My pastor and my church. For praying for and caring about a little baby you’ve never met. For sending follow-up emails to see how she’s doing. Your prayers mattered a lot to God and to us. 

3) Friends who send grammatically-correct text messages. I love getting texts where you spell out words like earth-shattering or hyperventilate. Because nothing says you care like appropriate punctuation.

That’s all for tonight, folks, I’m one tired Mama.

Partly Crabby with a Chance of Tears

27 Oct

Whine: Sleep-deprivation and skipped lunch a pleasant Sarah do not make.

Cheese: Had no choice but to snuggle both Big Sis and Lil’ Sis at various points today. Totally redeems both of them for double-teaming me last night.

 

I love my children, I do. Except last night when Big Sis, high on DumDums and pure ladybug adrenaline (that was her costume at Trunk or Treat) refused to give into her exhaustion until 11:00. PM.  Then Lil’ Sis opted to wake up and have coughing fits from 3 to 5. AM.  I, like most humans (and unlike my robot husband) do not function on low-levels of sleep. So this morning we were one crabby bunch (not robot husband, he’s rarely crabby). There were lots of tears, on-the-floor-kicking-and-screaming fits and a few snotty comments. And that was just when my husband tried to wake me up.

But we made it in time to drop Big Sis off at school. I felt the crabbiness creeping up as I saw my total at the grocery checkout. So I headed home and made a beeline to my new BFF–my 2-cup coffee pot. Ah, the greatness of chemically-induced cheer. (How am I just now discovering this??) Lil’ Sis required my Immediate! Attention! All! Morning! Hence, no lunch for Mommy. I knew things were getting bad when I read a story about a lady climbing a rock wall and I started crying.  

But things, as they tend to do, worked themselves out. I foraged through my (very expensive) bags of groceries for some lunch. I called a friend to talk me down off the ledge while I waited for my blood sugar to revive. Then Lil’ Sis had another coughing fit and the only thing I could do was sit in my easy chair and snuggle her (ok, and maybe watch a little DVR, I’ll be honest.)

The children and I had a lovely walk in the just-barely-fall weather. Grandma made twice-baked potatoes for dinner. Mmmmmmmm. I had two. Lil’ Sis had some and rubbed it into her red hair.  Big Sis let me snuggle her to sleep. I closed the evening with a few peanut m&ms (ok, maybe almost a whole package, I’ll be honest) and a little blogging. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Now I’m headed to bed, feeling like the bad weather is past. Wait, is that coughing I hear??

That New Blog Smell

24 Oct

Whine: I found a sippy cup today. In the laundry hamper. Filled with chocolate “milk.” Carbon dating suggests it had been in there approximately a week (since that’s how often I check the hamper. . .)

Cheese: Caught Big Sis* doing the hokey pokey while in the bathtub this morning. That’s what it’s all about.

 

Welcome to A Little Whine and Cheese! It does have that new-blog smell, doesn’t it? So full of excitement and high expectations. I’ll be posting all the time. Witty, poignant, and insightful. You’ll be commenting faithfully. Also, witty, poignant, and insightful. It’ll be blogging nirvana.

I’d better be careful in my blogging euphoria, though, I don’t want to get taken advantage of by schmucks like this. Good thing I’m married, huh? Ooh, but that link makes me want some candy. (This will be a common theme here, I suspect.)

Sure, it’ll be all bells and whistles for a while. The fan club, the gifts, the stalkerazzi. But soon I’ll realize that this thing is the energy-guzzling equivalent of my mom’s Ford Expedition.  I’ll be hiding out in my metaphorical garage, waxing and shining the hood, avoiding my hungry husband and children, wishing they could just understand why I need to check my stats just one more time. And the pressure (oh the pressure!) of making each post just a little more witty, a little more clever than the last. 

But I’m not going to be a party pooper, sucking all the enthusiasm out of this special, special moment by thinking too far ahead. I’ve got a cute blog and smart, loyal readers (is the flattery working?) So I’ll just take a deep breath and enjoy the scent of new leather and anticipate all the journeys we’ll be taking together.

 

P.S. Don’t forget, if you ever have a whine or cheese of your own to leave them in the comments section–whine and cheese are always better enjoyed with good friends.

 

*Big Sis is my 3-year-old daughter, not my actual big sister. That would have been awkward!