Monday, May 18, 2009

He's outta here...

Wow it's nice and peaceful around here. Jesse is spending a couple of days with his Nana and Papa. We had friends over for dinner last night and enjoyed almost two hours of peaceful conversation on the deck. Brody was already in bed and Joel just played around the table and ocassionally threw in his two cents. It's amazing how taking just one child out of the mix really changes the dynamic.

Anyway, now that preschool is out, each of the bigger boys gets to go to my parent's house for a few days this month to have some special time alone with them. I think Jesse especially needs it. He's had a bit of a hard time ever since Brody was born. He sees things that Joel does and thinks he really wants to be a big boy, but I think deep down inside, he really still wants to be the baby. After all, he is only two. Unfortunatley, there's a new baby in town and so Jesse's just not sure where he fits in anymore.

On top of that, he's potty training. One minute he's crying because he wants his diapers back, then the next he's crying because he wants his red big boy underwear. Poor guy, that's pretty much a picture of his life right now.

And let me tell you, potty training is a whole new animal. Let's just say it's pretty hard to get a child who doesn't like sweets to use the potty. It makes the whole M&M bribe void.

Oh, and things just might have taken a turn for the worse yesterday when Jesse fell into the toilet at church. It wasn't really my proudest mothering moment. Just picture me trying to hold a screaming 6 month old while undressing a resistant 2 year old, then somehow hoisting him one-handed onto the toilet, only to have him fall right in.

I scooped him right up out of there but then hysterical crying commenced. Now I have two criers but I can't comfort either of them because they can't HEAR me over all of their tears.

And because I always try to be prepared, I did have backup shorts and underwear in case of an accident, but why would I have thought to bring an extra shirt. when, of course, that is the one item that got truly soaked in the toilet. I pondered putting one of Brody's extra shirts on him (I did have one of those), but I didn't want to humiliate poor Jesse even more by making him wear a 9 month size onesie. I do have some decency.

Yet still, after several years of counseling people in therapy, a picture of Jesse sitting in a counselor's office in 20 years popped into my mind, with him saying, "I think it all relates back to when my mom dropped me into the toilet...". Maybe I could at least save him few bucks and BE his counselor.

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