Category: Thomas

Thomas: “Are we going to see no one today?”

Me: “We’re going to see Noah!”

“Nooooooo! I’m talking about if we’re going to see NO ONE!”

“Yes, we’re seeing someone.”

“STOP IT! I’M ASKING IF WE’RE GOING TO SEE NO ONE TODAY!”

[deep breath] “No, we’re not seeing No One today.”

“Who are we going to see?”

“Noah!”

[giggles] “I fought you said we won’t going to see no one. Siwwy mommy.”

Thomas asked me if he could go commando tonight –

“I DON’T WANT ANOVAH PO-WUP ON SO I CAN USE THE POTTY WHEN I HAVE TO GO.”

I danced circles around the dining room table when I heard this news. Literally. Just ask Ruthie – she danced with me.

(It’s fun to have an older sibling who celebrates the successes of a younger one).

Then? As he was getting his jammies on later he suddenly jumped up and said, “I HAVE TO GO PEE!” and ran into the bathroom.

This time we all danced, and Thomas was beaming.

I really thought I’d have a four year old in diapers, but now I wonder if we’ll celebrate Christmas with brand new Spiderman underwear?

Here’s hoping.

I am writing this from the parking lot of Thomas’ preschool, sitting in the passenger seat of the car (The driver’s seat does not slide back far enough for me to sit with my laptop. Or perhaps my belly is too big).

Despite the fact Thomas is STILL not potty trained, he started preschool two mornings a week last month. The school is pretty lax regarding their three year olds starting the year potty trained, but state law will not allow teachers to change his pull-up. This means if he poops they call me to come take care of it.

So far I’ve been called in the middle of a run on the treadmill, in the middle of a meeting at the Target Starbucks (which is the consumer’s equivalent of chocolate and peanut butter), and while paying bills at my dining room table.

Do you know how frustrating it is to THINK you have two hours to yourself, only to have a third of that time eaten up by a double round trip commute and diaper duty time? Have you ever stopped running without a cool down, then started up again half an hour later without a warm up? I don’t recommend it – your muscles will coil up like a tightened spring.

I’ve tried sticker charts, I’ve tried candy bribes, I’ve tried fifteen minute timers, I’ve tried going cold turkey – the kid is just. not. interested. in using the toilet. I mean, he uses it sometimes, of course, but most of the time the mere suggestion of sitting on the potty induces a fit of whining and floor flopping of grand proportions.

As I said on twitter one day, I wish I could send him off like a Labrador to be trained by a professional.

The inconvenience of this arrangement nearly caused me to pull him out of preschool. It just didn’t seem worth all the hassle, and he would still have preschool next year anyway.

Until I had a brilliant idea.

Ever since school started and my summer babysitting swap ended with a friend, I haven’t found a decent chunk of time to write. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone and sit in the car with my laptop, writing. If I get the call for a diaper change, I’m merely steps from his classroom, and I’m only interrupted for a few minutes.

Admit it. You are jealous of my ability to adapt.

So here I am, feeling a bit eccentric, yet very pleased with myself for creating a win/win situation (also, brainstorming ways to keep warm). Though as I’m sure you can imagine, Thomas has not pooped once during class any of the times I sat out here freezing my arse off.

What do you think the odds are he would poop as soon as I drive off to get a latte at the Target Starbucks?

We spent the Fourth of July in the Belltown neighborhood of Seattle listening to some good local music, then went down the sculpture gardens to watch the Elliot Bay fireworks with some friends. It was the first time we had taken the kids to one of the major fireworks shows, and I knew it was going to be a long day surrounded by hundreds of people.

Earlier in the week I’d lost Thomas at an open air produce stand. He wandered off while I was paying the cashier, and as I waited for her to return my debit card I casually looked around for him, fully expecting him to be just a few feet off. I couldn’t see him, and started sweeping in wider circles with my eyes, and when I still couldn’t see him I told the cashier I’d lost my son. She paged him and called someone to help me while Ruthie and I trotted around the produce tables, hearing murmurs of a lost boy among the other customers.

Finally the cashier flagged me down and shouted, “He’s down there!” and pointed to the gardening end of the store. I ran down there and found him immediately. He had a shopping basket in the crook of his elbow and was smelling flowers.

I think he may have only been separated from me five minutes – perhaps a little longer – but it was just enough time for me to imagine he was gone forever. When Ruthie run off there is usually somewhere she wants to be, and she goes with gusto. If I can figure out where that is, I can find her. But Thomas? He’s a wanderer. He just wanders. With no direction, purpose, or destination. When he wanders off I have no idea where to look.

So in preparation of spending the entire day surrounded by a mob of people, I laid down the ground rules for my three and five year old. First, stay within site. Second, don’t go anywhere – even to the other parent across the lot – without first asking the parent you’re with.

We then talked about what to do if they did get lost. I gave them each one of my blog cards which has my cell phone number on it, and stuck it in their pockets. I said if they couldn’t find me or Bryan, they should find a police officer or another mommy with kids, give them the card in their pocket, and ask them to call me. We went over it many times. We talked about what a police officer is wearing. We talked about the definition of “mommy with kids,” and why they were safer to approach than a different person.

It’s not a foolproof plan, and it didn’t make me any less alert. But teaching my kids how to protect and take care of themselves? That works for me.

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Visit Rocks in My Dryer for other Works for Me Wednesday posts.

I bought the kids a “gently used” play kitchen from someone off Craig’s List because I was feeling their old one was too small and unusable. I’m sure the old one was fine, and I’m sure by purchasing this new kitchen the kids will simply have a much larger toy to ignore in the playroom, but I was becoming irritated that the old kitchen wasn’t very practical or realistic.

In reality, I’m living vicariously through my kids since we are not in a position to upgrade my own small and impractical kitchen right now.

Thomas is super excited about the new kitchen. Every time someone comes over he says in his extremely loud and extremely high voice, “Come see ow new kitchen!” He even extends this fantastic greeting to Bryan every night when he comes home from work. Explaining to Thomas that Daddy has already seen the new kitchen doesn’t seem to compute, because the Earth will stop spinning if you do not lay eyes on this new kitchen.