Hooray For Saturday!

Porcelain

Will spending time in front of toilet, with a child sitting on it, drive one crazy?  My answer is swaying to yes.

I am still entrenched in what seems to be the never ending battle of potty training our son. 

The Little Man just doesn't care if he drops a deuce in his pants.  He could care less.  All of my actions are based on timing.  He doesn't tell me when he needs to go, which is the biggest hurdle.  I've been pretty good with timing the urination, but I have no clue when he's got one in the chamber.

We recently went and purchased him more new underwear, which he likes a lot.  I have offered rewards, such as candy, crackers or toys, if he was to let one float, but he just isn't in to it.  We have even gone to the store and purchased a nice new Tonka set, which features four wheeler, on a trailer, being pulled by a pimped out truck, with a camper on the back of it.  He is very aware that the prize is his once he drops a deuce, but at the rate we are going he'll be driving a real four wheeler, on the trailer, being pulled by a pimped out truck by the time this is accomplishment is achieved.

Until then, he's walking around with big thick tube socks pushed down around his ankles, with sponges in them to avoid messing floors if my timing is off, and he has not a care in the world!

Like A Rock

What is the first thing you think of when you read that phrase?

Maybe you think of the Detroit rocker, Mr. Bob Seger and his Silver Bullet Band? 

Maybe you think of a certain domestic automobile maker and the truck that they produce, seeing that the song, "Like A Rock" by Bob Seger, is used to advertise those trucks.

If you hear me use that phrase, chances are I am describing how our son swims.  The Little Man is enjoying his first swim lessons at the YMCA.  However, that one....not so buoyant.

A 'W' In His Bed

First off, let me prelude this story by telling you I couldn't make this up if I wanted to.  However, I know some of you that know me might think I am doing so just because of my views on current events.

In the wee hours of the morning, as I was hanging out with my good friend, insomnia, in the basement watching some TV, I hear crying going on from upstairs.  It was The Little Man.  Usually our kids sleep pretty good, once they fall asleep, but on occasion they do wake up with tears.

So I head up the stairs to see what's going on.  As I arrive to the second floor, The Lady is up and calming him down.  I ask if everything is ok and she said that he took off running and went into Doodlebugs room scared.  As we are putting him back to bed, we ask him what's wrong.  He answers, "There is a 'W' in my bed!  There is a 'W' in my bed!"

He does have a puzzle of the alphabet which has every letter in the alphabet, which was on the floor of his room.  I thought, he must have been playing with it before he actually went to sleep and perhaps there is a piece of it in his bed.  I take the pillows and covers off his bed, nothing.

The Lady goes back to our bed as I calm the dude down and assure him there is no 'W' in his bed or any other letter for that matter.  I go lay down in our bed, having to go back and fourth a couple of times to calm him down before he finally goes back to sleep.

Each time I lay back down in our bed The Lady just starts cracking up, as I do too.  Saying nothing, just laughing.  Finally I say, "Nightmares, whew!" and the wife adds, "I'd be crying if I had 'W' in my bed too."

All day today The Little Man was thanking me for getting 'W' out of his bed and putting it in the toy box, which was the thing that finally calmed him down.  For the record, I didn't move any letter of the alphabet or sitting president from his bed, into the toy box.

Three Year Check Up

The Little Man went in this morning to see the Doctor for his three year check up.

He's grown four inches taller in the past year and he's put on some pounds.  He's running in the 45 percentile range for his age, without considering he's three months behind.

It's funny, this was the first time they didn't measure around his head.  I asked if they needed to and the nurse just looked at me and said, "Oh, don't worry about that, he looks good.", which I'm sure in laymen's terms translates to, watermelon noggin.

All seems well with the boy and the Doc seemed excited about his counting, shapes, colors, and letter recognition.  Perhaps I need a raise!