Raising Paulie Bleeker

By doing whatever it takes to get Tai to use the potty, we might just be (inadvertently) raising the next Paulie Bleeker.

The current Potty Incentive Program includes getting to eat a small piece of candy after each use of the potty. This, in case anyone who has been by recently was wondering, is why we have a package of orange tic tacs on the sink in the bathroom.

And it might just be working.

Tai loves those orange tic tacs so much that when he's goofing around, not wanting to use the bathroom, we just have to remind him that he gets an "orange candy" afterward and he shapes up and does his business. Just the sight of the tic tac box makes him urinate--it's almost Pavlovian. We're nearing the point where we can walk into the bathroom and shake the tic tac container (much like shaking a can of Pounce for a cat) and he'll come running.

(Yes, I just managed to compare my son to a dog and a cat in the same paragraph.)

A Child After my Own Heart

I would prefer, hands down, a shot in the arm to having something sprayed up my nose. Tai agrees.

After receiving some (mis)information while getting my h1n1 vaccine, I told Tai that he was going to get a flu shot in his arm the next day. He became instantly excited at this idea. Seriously. He kept talking about how brave he was going to be and that he was going to get a band-aid afterward. He even told his teachers at school, proudly, "I'm going to get a flu shot today!" And when we left school yesterday to head over to the doctor's office he said to me, "I hope there will be a little bit of blood."

Feeling like I had the bravest toddler in the world, we headed to the pediatrician. Although he enjoyed playing in the waiting room, Tai actually got a little impatient and asked a couple times when it would be his turn.

Once inside the exam room, it occurred to me to confirm that he was indeed getting the shot, not the nasal spray. I was wrong. They disputed what I had previously been told and explained that they would only give the shot to kids with an asthma diagnosis. Paying close attention to this adult conversation happening in front of him, Tai piped in, "but I want the poke in the arm!"

Sadly, his preference was not taken into consideration. I delivered the news and soon my brave boy's lip was quivering and tears were silently dripping off his cheek and onto his pants. We were left alone in the room together and he started pleading with me to get him the shot, or take him home. Heart-breaking. When the nurse came in with the flu mist, he burst into a full out cry. I found myself both feeling bad for him but also somewhat embarrassed that he had lost his cool and this nurse must think he's like all the other toddlers -- afraid of shots. I feebly tried to explain that he just doesn't want anything up his nose. And he made his wishes known, screaming, "I want the shot! In my arm!"

In the end, I had to restrain him so she could squirt that stuff up his nose, poor thing. He took a few minutes to recover, but by the time we got home he was actually pleased to be able to explain to Minh that it wasn't a shot: "It was a Flu Squeeze! And I was brave!"

Conference 2

Today we had our conference with Quynh's teacher and got to see another slide show of our kid having fun at school. Set to You Belong to Me, it went something like this:

Quynh laying on her back, smiling

Quynh on her tummy, smiling

Quynh smiling while being kissed by an older baby

Quynh smiling while being dressed by an older baby (and a work-study student)

Quynh beaming while sitting up on her own

The good news is she's not failing any of her courses and probably will not be held back. Whew!

Conference 1

We had our fall semester conference with Tai's teacher this morning. Ahhhhh, there's nothing like watching a slide show of your kid playing at school and talking about how wonderful he is. Here's the summary:

• Tai plays with everyone in the classroom, but has a special sibling-esque relationship with Natasha.
• Tai enjoys making the other kids laugh and can get too silly at times.
• Tai talks alot and feels the need to fill awkward silences.
• Tai likes to teach the new, younger, kids the circle time songs and signs.
• Tai is not a big fan of using the potty when he has better things to do.
• Tai is able to, but prefers not to, dress and undress himself.

All of this is, of course, Earth-shattering news to us. We had no idea :)

Aliens Digging for Fossils

The other day I read Tai the book Aliens Love Underpants, which features brightly colored illustrations of aliens of all shapes and sizes. After we read it through it occurred to me that he might not even know what an alien is. So I asked and the conversation went like this:

K: Do you know what an alien is?

T: yes.

K: OK, what is it?

T: alien-tologist!

So now I'm worried that he thinks that paleontologists are green or purple or blue and have antennae and anywhere between 1 and 4 eyes. Next he'll be telling people he wants to be a paleontologist so he can fly a space ship.

That Poor Gorilla

I'm not sure how many of you folks know this, but Nibbles (the cat with no genitalia) is the friskiest animal in our house. And by frisky I mean, um, "frisky". About 8 years ago (back when he had a penis) he adopted a stuffed black cat of mine as his own. "Why does a cat need a stuffed companion?" you might ask. For sex, of course.

Nibbles and Sex Kitten (as we call it) were inseparable for years. Late at night, we'd find him biting it on the back of the neck and...um...you know. Sex Kitten is the size of an actual, small, cat. Just big enough to be realistic, and just small enough for Nibbles to be able to pick it up and move it from one room to another. We never knew where we'd find that thing each morning -- tossed in a corner of the living room, curled up under the kitchen table, or spread eagle at the bottom of the stairs.

Over the years, Sex Kitten got *much* use. This poor thing is now so tattered and threadbare

that it's embarrassing when people come over and see it, thinking it's one of Tai's toys--almost as embarrassing as having to tell people to keep their young children from touching it, but not wanting to explain why in front of tender young ears.

That is all just background for the news that there appears to be a new game in town. Not long ago, my parents gifted Tai a stuffed gorilla that happens to be black and roughly the same size as Sex Kitten. The gorilla went pretty much unnoticed and unused by anyone, including Tai, until last week. That's when we saw Nibbles saunter into the living room, carrying the gorilla in his mouth, settle down in the corner by the door and assume "the posture".

We rescued the gorilla right away, ushering him to safety up on a table, and gave Nibbles back Sex Kitten, who had been vacationing under our bed. But the next morning I found that poor primate at the bottom of the playroom stairs, looking rather ashamed of himself. Now, each evening we make sure the gorilla is up somewhere that we think is out-of-sight and out-of-mind, if not out of reach, but each morning he's laying on the floor somewhere looking dejected. Most recently, we discovered him halfway down the playroom stairs, and Sex Kitten at the bottom. So now we're not sure if Nibbles is upgrading his partner or trying to get a three-way started.

At this point I'm not sure whether to save the gorilla by hiding him away in Tai's room, or just let Nibbles go for it.

Selected Scenes from a Weekend in Vermont

Scene 1: The Trek North

1 hour into the 2.5 hour drive: (smiling) "Mama, I just got a big huge boogie out of my nose....and ate it."
1.5 hours into the 2.5 hour drive: (upset, almost frantic) "I can't see The Vermont!" My reply? "Look out the window, it's all around you." (He didn't get it.)
2 hrs into the 2.5 hrs drive: (all patience lost) "I don't want to go to The Vermont. I want to go home RIGHT NOW."

Scene 2: Who Knew a King-Sized Bed Could Feel Cramped?

I enjoy sharing my bed with Quynh, and I enjoy snuggling with Tai. But not at the same time. Never again.

Friday night-- after placing an almost-asleep Quynh in the center of a king-sized bed and tucking Tai into his sleeping bag on the floor, I foolishly attempted to go into the other room and have a glass of wine. Quynh wouldn't settle. My attempts at settling her just kept Tai awake. Tai wanted to know when I was coming to bed, and if he could get in the bed with me and Quynh. We called Daddy at 8:30pm and Tai announced, "I'm having trouble falling asleep." I then gave in and said all three of us could surely sleep comfortably in a king sized bed. After much flopping, flailing, talking, and whispered reprimands ("Don't lay on your sister!") somehow, by about 10pm, we all fell asleep.

At 3am when Quynh woke to nurse, Tai also woke. And became jealous (or something). He started pawing at Quynh, and at my breast, and then sat on my head. Yes, sat on my head. When he did not remove himself by the count of 3 he got an un-precedented 3:30am time-out. Tears ensued.

Saturday night was better, though it also started with an "I'm having trouble falling asleep" call to Daddy. I abandoned all pretense of staying up later than my kids and we all climbed into bed at 8pm. By the time I nursed Quynh to sleep and rolled over to snuggle Tai. he was still pretty wired. I had to tell him a lengthy story of the life, and death, of our long-dead cat Marmalade to get him to settle down (why he finds that particular tale calming is beyond me). Somehow we got through the second night with no one sitting on me and only 15 minutes of wailing at 3 am. "Is it wake up time yet? It's taking a looooong time!"

Scene 3: The Water Boy

Even though there is not much to actually do in Killington, VT if you are a non-skiing toddler, Tai only needed water to have a good time. It seemed like I couldn't keep him dry for more than a few hours at a time. Jacuzzi bathtub, shower, outdoor (heated) pool, back into the bathtub, etc. (Perhaps we should have just stayed home and soaked in the hot tub all weekend?)

Scene 4: Life and Death

At lunch on Sunday Tai claimed to be afraid to walk under the giant stuffed moose head on the wall. I explained that the moose used to be alive, but was now dead and stuffed (ugh). Though he still would not walk under it, he became instantly interested in learning which things in the restaurant used to be alive.

Pointing to a canoe hanging from the ceiling: "Mama, was that boat alive and it died?" And then, "Did that (wooden) duck used to be alive?" And on our way out the door after lunch, "Mama -- what about that man? (sitting and eating his lunch) Did he die?" Luckily, the man was good-natured about it and almost seemed entertained by Tai's curiosity. Whew.

Scene 5: Home Sweet Home

The ride home (at naptime on Sunday) was blissfully quiet and we returned to trimmed hedges and gardens, a mown lawn, a re-organized laundry room, and even a clean bathroom floor. But we also returned to an exhausted Daddy with a killer headache from lack of caffeine. (Apparently washing the coffee pot seemed like more trouble than it was worth to him).

While we were away Minh even found time to test the Halloween candy, just to make sure it isn't poison and will be safe to give out to the neighborhood kids. What a thoughtful guy.