Categories
Kids/Parenting

Get on the potty train

Yeah, that’s how Hayden understood the phrase “potty training”—something about trains? And potties?

But he did a lot better with understanding the actual potty training. I saw this book in the library and although I was skeptical, I picked up Toilet Training in Less Than A Day. It took about two hours to read, and it still sounded too good to be true.

book-coverSo with a grain of salt, we sat down in the kitchen to learn about this potty train. Following the procedures of the book, Hayden taught a doll how to go potty, answered endless quizzes on potty procedures, regularly spent 10 minutes on his potty, and checked to see if his pants were wet.

And, um, it worked. He didn’t even really have an accident that first day, though it did take three hours before he went to the bathroom the first time, no matter how much drink I forced down his throat.

And then there was the next day. No accidents. And none the next day. And other than one bedwetting incident, no accidents the next week. This week, we’ve had one bed wetting incident.

Hayden now knows how to use his little potty, empty it into the big potty, flush, replace the bowl and wash his hands all by himself (though he does seem to like an audience still). When he’s in nursery or day care at the gym, he knows to ask his teachers for help. He still needs a little help with wiping, and we have to turn the light on for him (and really, he does like an audience), but often I don’t even know he’s gone until he shouts, “Mommy, I peed!”

So yeah. I can’t promise Toilet Training in Less Than A Day will work for everyone, but much to my surprise, it worked for us!

More WFMW

Categories
Fulfillment

The winter of our discontent

“You should go back to work.”

How many times do SAHMs get this message a day? How many times are we bombarded with images of moms that have it all—a fulfilling career, happiness as a mother, a happy marriage, a good income, a beautiful home, fabulous vacations, loving and obedient children, and basically every dream they ever wanted coming true?

I feel like I find an example of someone I should envy like that every day. But I also know that, although we’ve been told we really can have it all, and have it all right now, we can’t. As Tina Fey said in an interview with Parade Magazine:

I think my generation has been slightly tricked in that you’re really encouraged to try to have it all.

Even Oprah has admitted that we can’t really have it all right now. There are seasons in life—and many of us choose to be at home with our children during the season where they are at home all day.

As if providing for small, needy, dependent people weren’t emotionally demanding enough, we also receive these daily messages that we’re not doing enough (maybe this is why we end up with kids in eight sports, learning six different instruments, at three different summer camps . . . ). Raising our children isn’t enough: we should be “productive.” We should “contribute to society” (my rant on how nothing contributes more to society than raising children will wait for another day). We should be in a “real job” (ha!).

Perhaps most discouraging of all is when someone who appears to mean well tells us we should be working outside the home for ourselves, after we’ve made the sometimes-difficult-but-always-challenging decision to stay home with our children for their benefit. Because, implies this person trying to be helpful, stay-at-home moms do nothing for themselves and allow themselves to be devalued.

This kind of advice automatically assumes that all work in the home is demoralizing and all work outside the home is fulfilling. IT’S NOT.

The fact of the matter is that very, very, VERY few jobs are inherently fulfilling on a daily basis, motherhood included (though I believe and hope that ultimately, motherhood will be the most fulfilling occupation I could devote myself to). Most people I know, at least from time to time, feel like Sisyphus in their jobs—mothers, teachers, loan document specialists, production managers, nurses, web content developers, accountants, social workers, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

While yes, some people find a measure of fulfillment in the fact that their work is rewarded verbally or monetarily, I think that in the end, fulfillment does not come from external sources.

stepping_stonesFulfillment comes from within us. That’s kind of the underlying point of a lot of the steps to fulfillment that I’ve been working on. Fulfillment is rooted in recognizing the good moments and being content with our lives.

If I can’t be content with my (already quite stressed, thank you very much) life as a stay-at-home mom, why would working outside the home, adding more stress and increasing the pressure on me to influence, appreciate, guide, discipline and most of all show my love for my children in a fraction of the time, suddenly make me more fulfilled?

Yes, I know that some mothers do truly enjoy working outside the home and do truly feel like better mothers because of this. But just like staying at home doesn’t work for every mother, another mother’s ability/need/appreciation of working outside the home doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone, no, not even every mother who struggles with motherhood (and, honestly, who doesn’t struggle from time to time?).

The first step to fulfillment—as a mom, as a working mother, as a human—is learning to be content with our season in life.

What do you think?

Categories
Kids/Parenting

I am such a good mom

I said this to one of my friends this week. Obviously, I was being at least partially facetious, since #1, I was chatting online instead of playing with my kids (a major problem for me, sadly) and #2, the full transcript of that moment is as follows:

I’m such a good mom
I just fed Rebecca a cheeto

Oddly enough, however, I really did feel like a good mom. Not for feeding Rebecca a cheeto (I’m not a fan myself, even though they are “guaranteed fresh” and “made with all natural oil,” as the package states), or for neglecting my kids, but for allowing myself to be an imperfect mother for a minute.

So much of the time, we mothers are quick to judge ourselves. Every time we don’t give our children what they want (even when we know it’s for the best) or aren’t 157% attentive to their needs, we feel as though we’re mean, bad, and ten kinds of terrible. If we don’t keep up on the latest trends—from Baby Gap to Baby Einstein, from Gerber brain-friendly organic finger foods to gerbera daisy hairclips to match every single outfit she owns—we’re bad mothers.

may-2009-024small
Speaking of hairclips, Rebecca wore one in her hair for the first time this month! Stinkin adorable.

So you know what? I’m going to let my baby have one cheeto. Odds are pretty low that either of our immortal souls hang in the balance, so I think I’m going to forgive myself for letting her consume 14 mg of sodium.

What have you learned to forgive yourself for? What do you struggle with forgiving yourself for? Do you consider yourself a good mother?

Categories
Fulfillment

Run that ye may obtain

stepping_stonesI am not a runner. I have always hated running. For some odd reason, I thought I could overcome this and went out for track in seventh grade, but I wasn’t fast enough to be a sprinter, and when it came to distance—did I mention I hate running?

A vague desire to run have completed a 5K, however, somehow lodged itself into my mind about five years ago. I put it on my list of things to do before I die. And I ain’t getting any younger.

So this is the year, I decided. I set a goal back in January, but I was waylaid by an injury early on. I’ve been back at it, though, for eight weeks now, and I’m up to running over two miles at a time.

It was early on, though, that I learned an important key to running anything longer than a sprint—don’t run. I was trying to work my way up, so I started off by running one lap (<1/6 of a mile). I was so completely winded that I wondered if maybe this wasn’t something I should do, if I was just one of those people who wasn’t meant to run.

Then I realized—I don’t have to run this hard. I’m not trying to set a record here. I just want to finish this race. So instead of flat-out running, I started trying to jog. At the slower pace, I could suddenly run (well, jog) for longer and longer distances. Instead of getting winded and discouraged, I was challenging myself and making progress.

If you haven’t already seen the parallels to motherhood, let me point them out to you—there are no prizes for cleanest house, quietest kids in church (though maybe there ought to be on that one), most extracurriculars (for moms or kids). Pushing ourselves or our families to maximum capacity all the time just wears us down.

But we don’t have to give up. We can still run that we might obtain the prize—time to enjoy together, time to enjoy one another. If we slow down and take the time to enjoy our children and our lives in the narrow slice of now, suddenly we can go just as far or farther.

How have you slowed your pace to finish the race?

Categories
Kids/Parenting

All quiet on the MamaBlogga front

A quick update: We’ve been working on toilet training Hayden this week, so most other things have taken a back burner. Don’t worry, things are going fantastic so far! Keep your fingers crossed for us.

Categories
Fulfillment

Mothering is a “real job”

stepping_stonesI doubt I have to convince any mothers out there of this, but as we work toward finding fulfillment in motherhood, we have to learn to treat ourselves with the respect we deserve, teaching others to regard us with the same respect.

My sweet, wonderful, well-meaning husband supports our family and goes to work ten hours a day, four days a week. He comes home and often the house is a wreck, the kids and I may or may not be dressed, dinner isn’t even planned—and I know that although he respects what I do for our family, he can’t fathom what I do all day long (or, apparently, why I’m usually running low in the patience department).

The world perpetuates an image of mothers, especially stay-at-home mothers, as either lazy layabouts who use daytime television to occupy their hours or drones who have given up all hope of future earning potential, “real” careers and intelligent conversation in favor of wiping noses and bottoms in a life that is a litany of thankless chores and children.

The world would have us think that we’re not “contributing to society” if we’re not working, though apparently it doesn’t really matter whether we’re “contributing” as tattoo artists or professors of medieval literature, as long as we aren’t at home caring for our own children. And if we’re not out in the workforce, we don’t have a “real job.”

I’ll be blunt like I never have before on this blog. That thinking is a load of crap.

Do the wonderful people who earn their living caring for our children while we mothers are doing more “productive” things have “real jobs”? Do the wonderful people who donate their time, talents and efforts to volunteer causes—striving to make a difference, to improve the world—have “real jobs”?

Mothering is the most important “volunteer” opportunity I could be involved in right now. I am consecrating my time, talent and efforts to raising my children—and most days, it is grueling.

Mother’s day may seem like an odd time to point this out, since we often take this day as a day to rest from our motherly labors and let our families take care of the meals, the cleaning, and the diapers (oh! the diapers!). But really, this is the perfect time to point out all that we do, because they’ll never understand and appreciate it more, as Elder M. Russell Ballard did:

After sitting on the stand [at church] for 10 years, I was now sitting with my family on the back row.

The ward’s singing mothers’ chorus was providing the music, and I found myself sitting alone with our six children. I have never been so busy in my whole life. I had the hand puppets going on both hands, and that wasn’t working too well. The Cheerios got away from me, and that was embarrassing. The coloring books didn’t seem to entertain as well as they should.

As I struggled with the children through the meeting, I looked up at Barbara, and she was watching me and smiling. I learned for myself to more fully appreciate what all of you dear mothers do so well and so faithfully!

Mothering is not just a “real” job—it’s the most real job there is. No other profession has the influence, the reach and the eternal importance of contributing to society by raising up the next generation to be good, hard-working, righteous, moral individuals.

And you know what else? I have no idea what my husband does all day at work.