Andrew's struggle to be "bigger"

Potty training did not come as easy for Andrew as it had for Sydney. He is five now and is still struggling at night. Every night he wears a pull-up, something that has really not bothered him until recently. I, of course, have spent a great deal of time feeling like a failure as a parent.

We have restricted his liquid intake hours before bedtime. He uses the restroom before he goes to bed. Every night as we tuck him in we make sure he understands that, should he feel the need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, he can wake one of us up without recourse. And yet, every morning is different. Some days he wakes up completely dry. Other mornings he wakes up soaked completely through the pull-up, jammies and bed sheets. It completely baffles me. How does he not feel wet and cold in the middle of the night?

But he soooo wants to be "bigger". Apparently, in his mind he won't truly be "bigger" until he can sleep without a pull-up...like his sister. How sad really because I believe it is something beyond his control. I think he sleeps soundly enough that he lacks the ability to wake when he would normally feel the urge.

So last week he asked me when he would be able to sleep without the pull-up and so we made a deal. "If you can go five nights with a dry pull-up, you can sleep without one." He was sooo excited about this plan and for the first three mornings the pull-up was dry and he would remind me how many days he had left. The fourth and fifth mornings were a different story and the disappointment and embarrassment in his face were almost too much to take. In my mind I had figured five consecutive days but I just did not have the heart to make him start over.

It has been seven days since our deal started and this morning was the fifth dry pull-up. So tonight we all celebrated as he put his jammies on over his bare bottom. I tucked him in with fingers crossed and a little bit of hope that when he wakes in the morning he finally feels "bigger".

Another "What do you say when" moment...

This afternoon Andrew took off running to the bathroom with a very concerned look on his face. After a few minutes I could hear grunting and groaning so I called out: "Are you ok in there?" To which he answered, "Ya mom, I'm just drop'n the kids off at the pool!"

Houston.....we have a problem!

Two years ago my family and I left tree frog infested Florida and moved to a very small town bordered by lush cornfields. We live in an old house. Across from...you got it, a cornfield. We were warned early on that the harvest, coupled with cold weather, forced mice and other critters to seek shelter elsewhere. We were warned that it is not uncommon to have a mouse or two or three or four in your house during the winter. "No problem" I thought. "We have a cat!" Truthfully I was just happy I no longer had to deal with tree frogs.

So the first winter came and went without incident. I figured our cat did a pretty good job keeping them at bay. I made it my duty to point out to my cat hating father-in-law that cats ARE good for something.

This winter has been a completely different story. I'm now feeling like word has gotten out in the mouse community that the cat living in the Kunkel house is much like that Tom from Tom and Jerry. Only 15 lbs heavier.

Including today, we have had a total of six mice. The cat has killed one. Sorry, but I consider that an infestation! This is why I cleaned Meijers out of mouse traps on Sunday. This is also why I sat the cat down and explained to him that he'd better get his act together.

The Sound of Victory

Game 7. A nail biter to the very end. The Lady Aggies found themselves tied at the beginning of the sixth quarter. Sydney took a break during the fifth quarter but as soon as that buzzer went off her butt shot off the chair like a bottle rocket.

Flying out the gait and dribbling the ball like a wild animal, she made several failed attempts at making a basket in her rush to advance her team's lead. But then her mother told her to take a deep breath in a not so quite voice from clear across the court.

And with one minute left in the game...

She listened to her mother...

and took the last shot.....

to help her team win their very first game this season.

You should always listen to your mother (even if she knows nothing about basketball).

What do you say when.....

A) While standing in the checkout line at Walmart, your son farts loud enough for everyone in the immediate vacinity to hear. And when you remind him of his manners, he points at the horrified looking elderly woman standing behind you and shouts "IT WASEN'T ME, IT WAS HER!".

B) While shopping on a different occasion you notice your son holding his...um...private parts through his pants and when you ask if he has to use the restroom he says no. Your brain can't quite grasp why he would be holding onto it (in a store of all places) if he didn't have to use the restroom so you ask him why he is doing that and he shouts "BECAUSE IT IS HARD!"

C) While driving through the parking lot of a grocery store, your son tells you and your girlfriend to "CHECK OUT THAT HOT CHICK!" as a 50+ year old woman in dress shorts and

these boots------------------------------>

strolls through the crosswalk in front of your car.

The Basketball Blues

The Lady Aggies. That's the name of Sydney's basketball team. Today was game 6. Today was also their 6th loss. A tough pill to swallow when you played the first 4 quarters and helped give your team a comfortable lead only to helplessly watch from the bench as it was being stripped away. In the end the deficit was insurmountable.

Sydney inherited her father's competitiveness. She does not lose well. She takes it pretty personal in fact. Today, like all the others, was no exception. Oh I've tried giving her the "it's all about having fun" speech. I've recited that one to her on numerous occasions. Recently she said "There is no F-U-N in losing mom!" in her best I'm only 9 going on 16 tone of voice.

That competitive spirit can be down right impossible to live with at times but gosh, it sure is fun to watch her.

Broken...with some small town love

One week ago today my husband had a Clavicle Excision. Bilaterally.

In laymans terms it means the surgeon removed a centimeter (more or less) of bone from the top of his shoulder. Both shoulders.

In wifespeak, he is broken. Broken because there is not much the man can do. Can't drive. Can't work. Can't carry in the groceries. Can barely shower and dress himself without help. Thankfully he found a way to care for his bathroom hygiene. There are just some things a wife should not have to do for her husband. At least not in your 30s. Wiping his bum is one of many I can think of.

Several days before the surgery my friend Sara informs me that she will be picking my children up from school on surgery day and will be keeping them overnight. She would take Sydney to Violin class on Friday and then on to her basketball game Saturday.

The day before surgery another friend tells me she will be delivering a post surgical dinner. True to her word she came bearing the best chicken salad I have ever had complete with bread and homemade Snicker doodles for dessert.

Over the past week three more of my friends have delivered dinners. Lasagna, salad, bread and cake on Monday from Ruth Ann. Homemade pizzas from Polly on Wednesday and beef stroganoff, peas and a scrumptious apple bar dessert from Jackie tonight.

Polly informs me that they planned this meals on wheels schedule and purposely did not tell me in advance knowing I would baulk and refuse their niceties. She was right. Accepting help from others does not come easy for me. It makes me uncomfortable but I must say that being forced to accept the generosity of such great friends has warmed my heart and makes me love this small town living even more than I did before.