Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Becoming a Big Girl

Have you ever met a toddler that does not insist that they are "a big girl" or "a big boy"?  Our favorite quote of Zachary's is, "Zachy no baby.  Zachy big boy."  He was almost two.  The "big girl" in our house is now narrowing in on three.  In so many ways, she is becoming a big girl.  She can dress herself -- down to the shoes and all; she can ride a tricycle; she can even unload the dishwasher.  She also could tell me the second she pooped or peed.  (Do you get where I'm going with this?)  And then she would immediately insist on a new diaper.  And if a new diaper was not forthcoming, the whole neighborhood heard about it.  It was time.  I knew it.  She knew it.  The neighbors knew it.  It was time to potty train.

Let me give you a little back story as to how I feel about potty training.  Annalise was the easiest child on earth to potty train.  I swear I remember it taking about a day; maybe a bit longer for the pooping.  And she hardly ever had an accident.  It was easy.  Piece of cake.  But she was the easiest toddler ever.  And what does God give you when you've had an easy toddler?  Zachary.  Zachary was not the easiest toddler on earth.  And I'm convinced he was the hardest child ever to potty train.  In fact I am scarred for life.  In my opinion potty training is the worst task a parent has to strike off their list.  (But I have yet to have teenagers, so stay tuned for that opinion to change.)

But it was time.  And I had the time.  The big kids had a whole week off from school for Thanksgiving.  The next break they would have is at Christmastime, and that wouldn't work if we also had to fit in a very loooooong drive to Arizona to see the in laws.  And frankly I was tired of the diapers... Tired of changing them; tired of paying for them; tired of being yelled at because of them.  So Thanksgiving it was.  We gave Juliette all sorts of warnings that it was coming.  She seemed excited, expecially since we attached potty training to a new "big girl" room.  (We're still not sure what that means yet!)  So Thanksgiving vacation came and we stocked up on stickers, a poster for her door reading "Juliette is using her potty!" (which was, of course, a total lie for quite a few days), M&Ms and Dollar Store prizes.  Oh and potties.  All sorts and varieties of potties.  We were ready!

Unfortunately the pee was not so ready.  We quickly learned that Juliette has a bladder like Jason's in that it can hold a whole gallon of pee.  We would go hours of sitting and trying, eating M&Ms and nothing.  And then an accident on the kitchen chair or on the dining room floor.  After three days I was ready to throw in the towel.  And then a little success on day four and then regression again.  I was ready to hang myself.   Finally after a week, we had a break through.

It was Saturday morning.  The kids were due to go back to school on Monday and I was so frustrated and torn.  I didn't know what to do.  Once the kids were back in school, we would be back to carpools and soccer practice, dance class and running all over town.  We would not have a bathroom at our beck and call.  Juliette was particularly clingy that morning.  She wanted to watch a movie.  (The answer to this was yes, as the potty training kid gets to do a whole lot of whatever they want during potty training in the Evans house.)  And she wanted to cuddle.  You should also know that Juliette is my least cuddliest kid.  This is through some cruel trick of nature.  The mommy who wants to cling on to her last baby needs a baby who likes to cuddle!!  It's a total bummer.  But on this day she did want to cuddle.  And that child laid on my chest for an entire movie!  She cuddled and buried her head in my shoulder and did all those cute things that babies are supposed to do.  And we talked.  We talked about how she is a big girl now, but she will always be my baby.  It was an honest conversation with no alterior motive.  But somehow it was just what Juliette needed.

That afternoon, Juliette was potty trained.  She still has accidents on occasion, but I can firmly say that she is potty trained.  It's like a miracle to me!

So even my girl who is so insistent that she is a BIG girl and NOT a baby needed to be babied a bit.  Potty training has to be one of the great stresses of babyhood, behind weaning and learning to sleep by oneself.  My big girl just needed some reassurance that she is still my baby.  I have tried to reassure her that even when she has babies of her own that she will always be my baby.  I am grateful to be able to cross potty training off my list.  And I am grateful, too, that now when Juliette needs to be babied a bit, she will not scream for her diaper to be changed.  She will ask for a cuddle.  That's the best kind of babying there is.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Man, I Love my Village!

Since becoming a parent, I can't tell you how many times I've repeated the famous quote, "It takes a village to raise a child."  This year that line is more true for me than ever.  Perhaps you've read my blog before and noticed huge gaps in time in between posts.  This is because I am BUSY!!  Besides the three kids and their three very different schedules, I have as always, over-extended myself with volunteer jobs and now I am working more than I have since Annalise was born.  It's a lot to juggle and I am feeling very overwhelmed at times.  The past two nights, I have put myself to bed before nine, which does not ever happen unless I am sick.  But I'm exhausted.  I'm having a hard time balancing it all, which we all know is where I fall short so often anyway.  It is a tough year, but I do have things in perspective.  I know how hard everything is for other people.  And next year, with Zachary in school all day and Juliette in two mornings a week, the juggling will become somewhat easier.  I hope! 

I think as Americans, we have this attitude that we have to do everything ourselves.  If we ask for help, if we admit that we need help, then we somehow have failed.  And so we often flounder on our own, not thinking to reach out our hand to the person standing just next to us to ask for help.  I have been guilty of this so much myself.  And then a wonderful thing happened.  A year ago, I had to have surgery.  And I had no choice but to ask for help.  My husband, my mom, and a multitude of friends stepped up and helped out in ways I couldn't even imagine.  They took care of me in so many ways: they made meals, and they took care of my children.  They recognized when I was trying to dive back in too early and pushed me back out of the pool and took care of everything for a much longer time than any of us anticipated.  What I learned through that was that people were not resentful for having to help.  They were not begrudging.  They were willing and happy to help.

This year because of my crazy work schedule, my desire to take a parent ed class with Juliette, Zachary's afternoon kindergarten schedule (which I wanted and asked for), my mom's crazy volunteer schedule being crazier than ever and occasionally Juliette's naps running overboard, I have had to rely on friends more than ever.  And my friends have been AMAZING!  I like to think that I am returning the favor, if not completely this year, than in the years to come as well.  Because the amazing thing that has happened is that I have found that my friends need me too.  One friend had to unexpectedly leave for a few days this week to attend a funeral.  In a matter of hours, through a few emails, her girls were completely taken care of for the week.  We all happily stepped in to take the girls to and from school, to dance classes and playdates.  Truthfully, it's easy.  My kids are happy to have friends over, I'm happy that they're happy and my friend can focus on being present at the memorial service and know that her girls are taken care of.

When I was a kid, I wasn't too thrilled to live in a town where everyone knows everyone else's business.  (My brother, as a first grader on his way home from school, throwing lemons at cars, really didn't like this.  My mother knew before he even walked in the door.)  But this same town where everyone knows everyone else's business, also supports each other.  Sometimes everyone's business is just gossip.  But sometimes it's knowing when a friend is in need and stepping up to support her.  This year, though I sometimes feel like a mooch, I know that my village knows that I am here to support them in their times of need as well.  My village kicks ass and I wouldn't change my village for anything.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Loud Girls

In the other room right now are four eight or nine year old girls.  Three of these girls I have known since they were in kindergarten.  (Well, one is my own, so I've known her a little longer.)  The fourth is new to their school this year, and therefore new to me as well.  When the fourth girl joined our Brownie troop this year, her mother was somehow sold a bill of goods (by me).  She was told that our troop was made up of several girls who are shy, a little timid, sometimes a bit socially awkward, slow starters, uncomfortable in new situations, etc. etc.  I swear, if you saw our Brownie troop in June, this is exactly what you would have seen.  And then third grade started.

Somehow third grade has created completely different animals.  This was evident from the first time I had a whole gaggle of girls here (about week two of school).  We walked here from school, about a fifteen minute walk, and the conversations did not stop for the entire walk, the entire playdate, until the last girl was picked up and deposited in her own home.  When I peeked in on the girls, they were dancing and singing at the top of their lungs, putting on some bazaar show for the girls who looked back at them in the mirror.  These girls did not lack confidence.  They were not shy in front of brand new friends.  They were completely and totally comfortable in their own skin.  And LOUD.

When Zachary has friends over I expect them to be boisterous, rambunctious, bouncing off the walls, and constantly having to be shushed if Juliette is sleeping.  But Annalise's playdates have always been much quieter; the girls preferring to disappear into Annalise's room for vast amounts of time, only surfacing to eat or use the bathroom.  They may have been napping in there for as quiet as they were.  The other difference I've noticed is that Zachary and his friends are constantly negotiating what they will play next, changing their minds, and then another back and forth about the next activity.  Annalise's friends usually make a suggestion and Annalise just goes along.  Many of her friends are like this.  They will just go along with the crowd.  But this is not the case so much anymore.  These girls in my house right now all have opinions and are not afraid to voice them.  Even Annalise, the queen of going along with any suggestion, is actually voicing her opinions and being heard.

These girls have grown up a bit, but mostly their friendships have grown up.  These girls who have now known each other for years have finally truly accepted the friendship.  They now trust in each other -- enough to speak their minds and know that they will still be liked, respected and listened to.  They are now free to be themselves in front of their friends.  They are free to be the crazy, goofy, opinionated girls that we, as their parents, have seen for years.

In a small town like ours, people move in and stay.  People do not move away.  (Actually they do move away: they leave to go to college, have a single life, get married and start a family.  But when it comes time for their kids to start school, inevitably, we come back.)  Annalise will be stuck with these kids for the next ten years of her life.  What a blessing it is for her to have found friends who know her and love her and listen to her and respect her for the crazy, goofy, opinionated girl that she is.  These girls in the other room will very likely be her friends for life.  They will share in each others' ups and downs, triumphs and collapses.

So, yes, I unknowingly sold a mom (also my friend) a bill of goods.  But what her daughter got is so much more: a group of lovely, loud girls who trust in each other.