Embarrassing Kid Moment #247,023

child commentsThe following event occurred yesterday morning whilst I was in the store grabbing a pack of diapers for Big Trouble (who is obviously still determined to break me in the potty training department since we were getting yet another pack of diapers, not underwear).

The Setting:

Big Trouble was being quite the little gentleman and this trip to the store had me beaming at the people passing by as I showed off how well my little boy was behaving.  Yep; pat on the back for being an awesome mom;  isn’t he just the cutest little thing?!  I made him.

The Incident:

Then he opened his mouth and SHOUTED a question that no one ever wants to be asked loudly in public:  “MOM, DO YOU NEED TO POOP IN THE POTTY?”

Shh!  No honey, Mommy’s just fine right now, thank you.

He wasn’t satisfied so there was a follow-up question:  “NEED TO PEE-PEE?”  (people are now staring and snickering)

No baby, Mommy already went to the potty.  Do you need to go?


Good Lord, NO!  There are no bodily functions going on right now so please stop shouting!


Oh my Lord, please just come with me to the self-checkout so I don’t have to face a real cashier!…..

End of Scene.

Needless to say, I was quite embarrassed by this happy outburst.  I assume it was payback for my constant barrage of questions concerning his potty training process and lack of progress, but who can say?

I know I can’t be the only one with crazy kids who say things like this, right?!

Turns out, I’m not.  So, here’s a few more fun things that other kids have said!  I would love to hear your stories, too!  Misery loves company! 🙂

We’ve Mastered Another Skill…Just Not The One I Was Hoping For

Today, Big Trouble started drinking from a straw.  I’ll hold for applause.



Now, this may not seem like that big of a deal, but seeing as though he gets soaked every time he tries to drink out of a regular cup, it really is!  The kid can literally take a dime-sized amount of water and make it look like he just survived a flash flood.

But now, thanks to this new development, we can start using the “big kid” cups with lids and straws instead of sippy cups or the “ok, guess we’ll go get a bath now” cups!  I’ll admit that it was torture so fun making weird faces and trying to give him samples of how to sip from a straw, only to have him just make noises and/or accidentally blow spit bubbles and laugh.

Mind you, this has gone on for nearly a year.  The kid has no interest in my time frame for ANYTHING.  I’m just now starting to get that (can’t imagine where he gets his stubbornness from).  But, I keep trying like the idiot that I am because I that’s my job.  And, nothing makes me feel like a bigger success than finally seeing one of my kids master something they have been trying to do; even if it is as insignificant a milestone as drinking from a straw.

The moment I saw my troublemaker give me a huge victory smile, thus drooling out most of the liquid he had just learned to sip up, I held my head high, looked to the sky and thought, “yeah, I taught him that” (not the drooling part, just to clarify; the actual sipping from a straw).  I am a success and so is my boy!

Then I turned back to look at my precious little one who was making me so proud…and I see this:

"Wook at my hat, mom"

“Wook at my hat, mom”

Yep.  That’s the inside of his consistently unused potty seat sitting there, upside down on his head.  I did not teach him that.  Guess we still have a little work left to do on some of our skills….sigh.

Getting To Know Us – Part III: Interview with Big Trouble

children-quotes-funnyWell, I said I would try to do this with Big Trouble too, but it didn’t turn out quite as well as I had hoped as he is 2 and could care less what I want.  So, instead of trying to get him to answer my questions, here’s a few of his random thoughts and conversations as they occurred over the last few weeks (with my thoughts added in).

  • The Princess, after smacking Big Trouble in the face with a beach ball: Are you ok, sweetie? (notice she gets all big sistery AFTER hitting him on purpose); Big Trouble: I am better than ok!  (This is his new way of answering questions.  I have also asked him if he is pooping in his diaper and he responds with “I am better than pooping”.  I have a little optimist on my hands….and a big poop machine who often tells me that he is a “grossy, stinky butt and dat’s funny.  No. No, it isn’t).
  • Upon watching his big brother and sister go into a different room so they won’t be bothered by him, he runs after them, bangs on the closed door screaming, “Help! Let me in guys!  Hey, guys.  Open the door. (as though it was a mistake that he was shut out – poor little brother)
  • A conversation with me: “Do you think you would like to pick blueberries with mommy?”Big Trouble: “I love pooberries!” (um, ew – he has also called them boogerberries, so fun!).
  • As I was leaning over to pick up a basket of laundry, I feel a tiny hand on my butt and I hear a little voice say, “Shake your booty. Haha.  Dat’s funny.”  (Yeah, I’m definitely doing something right around here).
  • While playing Family Feud with Big Brother and practicing his juggwing (juggling) skills along with The Wiggles DVD, Hot Poppin’ Popcorn, I overhear this little gem: Big Brother says to him, “tell me something we all know about Brad Pitt.” (I think this may have been an actual family feud question because I’m fairly certain Big Brother has no idea who Brad Pitt is).;  Big Trouble answers: “2 Balls”.  (Yes, my mind went there even though I knew he was talking about juggling the two bouncy balls in his hands and was not remotely referencing Brad Pitt.)
  • While putting a new load of laundry in the washer, I hear the load I just pulled out being dumped on the floor by Big Trouble as he shouts to me, “Don’t worry Mommy, I get them.” (So glad I have his “help” or how else would I get anything done?!).

Getting To Know Us – Part I: Interview With The Princess

Recently I have been coming across a lot of really cute blogs where mothers have asked their kids different questions and had the kids answer honestly.  I thought this would be a fun “experiment” to do with my kids too, so here’s part one!  **Disclaimer – I may randomly add my thoughts to these answers in parentheses so you can know what went through my mind as she answered**

Getting to Know “The Princess”, Age 6

  • What do you want to be when you grow up? A teacher, a mommy, and a cashier at Publix (sounds just fine to me)
  • What brings you the most happiness? when I go to Nuberri for frozen yogurt (this is Daddy’s go to place when we have no idea what we are going to do on a weekend – we’ve gone through several customer loyalty cards)
  • When do you feel the most loved? When my Daddy hugs me (apparently, my hugs are not enough?! Hrmphf)
  • What are you afraid of? the dark  (I was surprised at this answer because I would have said she was afraid of thunderstorms as she always goes and hides under a blanket when she hears thunder – this usually leads her to accidentally falling asleep so it may be the thing I look forward to the most on a long Summer day – maybe I am projecting?)
  • If you had one wish, what would you wish for? to be a princess (There is a reason I refer to her as “the princess”)
  • What is the funniest word? potty (I’m just glad she didn’t say anything else)
  • What is the hardest/easiest thing to do? the hardest is to write supercalifragilisticexpialidocious; the easiest thing to do is Kindergarten math (I can attest to the fact that it is hard to type supercalifragilisticexpialidocious…twice.  But, I thought Kindergarten math was pretty hard when I had to help her.  Glad she is so confident.)
  • What is the best/worst thing in the world? worst is seeing a monster and the best is getting to be with a nice family (I love that she is still innocent enough to think that seeing a monster is the worst thing, but wise enough to know how important family is)
  • What makes you mad? when my brothers call me poopy (it definitely is a sore spot with her)
  • What is the meaning of love? happy with heart kissing (I have no idea what this means, but it sounds nice)
  • If you had all the money in the world, what would you do with it? I would buy the toy cleaning set from ToysRUs so that I could clean the house (I find this answer extremely hilarious because I have an arsenal of real cleaning products here that she is more than welcome to use at any time, yet she has never done it without complaining about how mean I am for making her help)

Getting to know me (THE QUEEN), as told by The Princess

  • What’s my favorite TV show? Real Housewives (It’s not my favorite, but it definitely is a guilty pleasure)
  • What do I drink? Coke (I don’t drink alcohol so this is how I make it through the day with 3 crazy kids.  Don’t judge, especially since I have only had Starbucks twice this month.)
  • What do I eat? taco salads (well, I do enjoy a nice taco salad)
  • What do I do for fun? Take a Nap. (I’m not sure this is considered fun, but I would definitely choose it if given the option)
  • What do I like to read? The Great Gatsby (I just re-read this after seeing the movie – luckily she didn’t give away my obsession with random YA series such as Harry Potter, Beautiful Creatures, The Hunger Games, Twilight, etc…..)
  • What do I wear? jeans and a t-shirt and flip-flops.  You never wear skirts but sometimes you wear dresses. – she says this with disappointment and then a slight hint of hope for the future (I’m very predictable, and apparently sad and pathetic in my choice of clothing)
  • What do I do with my friends? Go out to eat (I am a huge fan of getting to eat AND hold an actual adult conversation for more than 3 seconds)
  • What is my favorite song? Something by One Direction (um, NO.  That would be Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, not some cheesy boy band from Britain that I am constantly subjected to. But, it could be worse; she could have said something by Justin Bieber)
  • What do I do when you’re school? Play with Big Trouble, make him take a nap, and probably go to the playground sometimes. (Yes, that is exactly how I spend my days when I’m not eating bonbons and watching Real Housewives.)
  • What do I do when you’re in bed at night? Help Big Trouble go to bed and watch tv. (This is true on certain nights)
  • What do I dream about at night? Your kids. (Sorry, sweetie, it’s Johnny Depp)
  • What is my favorite store? Target (Not sure this is actually my favorite store, but it is really close to our house and it’s not Walmart so we are there A LOT)
  • What do I buy there? Diapers and Wipes (hoping to delete diapers and add big boy underwear to this list very soon)
  • What’s my favorite thing to do with you?  Take care of me when I am sick. (You know, there really is nothing I enjoy more.  …seriously?  That’s what you picked as my favorite thing to do with you?  Should I take this as a compliment?)

And there you have it.  Stay tuned for thoughts from Big Brother and Big Trouble….if they decide to cooperate. 🙂  Feel free to try this with your own kids!  The answers are always great and surprising!

Words On A Wednesday

This week I am changing things up a bit and instead of posting a picture, I am going to use words to “paint” you a picture of my life this week:

2 A.M. – A tug on my foot wakes me from a semi-deep slumber.  It’s Big Trouble, staring me down.

Me: “What are you doing?!”

B.T.: “Mommy, I tired”

Me: “You woke me up to tell me that?!”

B.T.: “Yes.”

He goes right back to sleep; it took me an hour and a half.  Well played, son; well played.

What’s Your Favorite Commercial?

If you’re anything like me, you are probably not a fan of commercials.  I hate them because I am usually watching a kids’ channel and every commercial seems to make my kids think they need just one more light up stuffed animal or some other dumb toy that they will never play with.  But, every now and then, a commercial will resonate with me in a big way.  And usually, that commercial will have something to do with kids (because, let’s face it, that’s where my interests lie right now).clorox

Lately, Clorox has been on a roll with their commercials and it is totally making me stick to only buying their bleach and wipes.  I will gladly pay the extra 50 cents to get the name brand that makes me laugh with their commercials and kills major germs!  Here’s a few of my favorites, all dealing with potty training because, again, that’s my particular dilemma right now (I can’t figure out how to put videos on WordPress because I am not tech-savvy and because my 2-year-old is jumping on my back as I type this, but if you click on the links, you’ll get them – I promise they are all short, but hilarious).

What are some of your favorite commercials?

**I am not being paid to endorse Clorox products, but I would love to become a spokesperson because my kids are as gross as the kids in these videos**

Finally Sitting Still (But Not Until After We Wrestled In Public)

It’s no secret that my 2-year-old is quite a handful; there is a reason that I refer to him as Big Trouble.  Most of my blogs these days end up being about crazy adventures that I have had with him (and this one will be no exception), but the last few days or so, I have noticed a change in him that I hope is a sign of great things to come.

So, before I tell you another highly entertaining story (at least for those of you that didn’t have to live through it), I must first tell you that not only did my husband and I get to go out to lunch with him for the first time in a year this weekend (MIRACLE OF MIRACLES), he also went to the park and to get ice cream one on one with me and he was calm and marvelous!  Who knew he had it in him?!  Let’s pray it continues instead of me having more moments like the following (which occurred just last week):

My little guy had been complaining of his chin hurting (well he was pointing to his chin and saying “hurts” so I assumed that’s what it was) and he had a slight fever for a few days.  It never got really high, just slightly higher than normal, but then he just wanted to be snuggled for several hours and he wouldn’t get off of the couch.  Something was definitely wrong because you usually cannot get him to sit down for 2 seconds.  So, after a weekend of sitting still (which actually made me miss his usual craziness, if you can believe that), I made an appointment with our pediatrician to get him checked out, thinking maybe it was an ear infection.

Of course the minute we walked into the office, he was back to his usual self with no sign of sickness to be found.  Somehow it always works that way for me.  But, we were there and I decided better to be safe than sorry.  Good thing because it turned out that he had strep and had been trying to point to his throat but mistakenly pointed to his chin.  Lovely!  The pediatrician said to get him on antibiotics immediately before it spread to the rest of the family (he knows how much we like to share germs with each other).

Seeing as though the medicine he prescribed was free at our local grocery store (and we needed a few grocery items anyway), I decided to take the prescription there instead of going to our usual drive-thru pharmacy.  This turned out to be a mistake of epic proportion.  I stepped up to the drop-off counter and handed the prescription to the pharmacist who told me it would be about 15 minutes.  Not too bad, I thought to myself.  We’ll just go and pick up what we need and pay for them and then walk back over to the pharmacy on our way out (at this point I had convinced Big Trouble to sit in the cart).

About 10 seconds down the first aisle, he demanded to walk and began screaming the word, “walk” as though he had absolutely no pain in his throat at all.  Fine, fine, just HUSH and hold my hand. One hand now holding his and the other pushing the ridiculous cart with the steering wheel, we walked around the store looking for the few things we needed at home.  Then we got to the medicine aisle where I wanted to pick up some more Tylenol.  I started combing the shelf for the infant kind because the dropper is so much easier to deal with in the middle of the night, while Big Trouble let go of my hand.  He didn’t go far, so I let him wander back and forth a little while I found the right box of medicine.  I called for him to come back and as he turned around, I noticed that he was thoughtfully bringing me some Beano and a bottle of Immodium from his section.   An old man walking by started laughing as B.T. placed the items he had chosen in our cart.  Fantastic.  Now everyone at the store must think I have some kind of serious digestive issues when even my 2-year-old has the courtesy to pick up these products for me.  I have got to get out of here before he finds condoms or Monistat!   Back to the shelf those products quickly went (I apologize to the stockers who will find these products located by the Motrin – I was too embarrassed to look for the correct spot).

We made our way to the checkout line and paid for our products without so much as an incident (which is kind of a miracle since he was still not in the cart).  Then we headed back to the pharmacy.  I glanced at my phone and saw that we had spent about 13 minutes so I was prepared to wait another minute or two but surely the pharmacist saw that I had a crazy baby with me and would have put a rush on this very common drug that they have plenty of.  No such luck.

We stepped up to the pick up counter and the assistant told me that they were just now mixing up the antibiotics.  Lovely.  I tried to get B.T. to sit in one of the chairs and wait patiently with me, but I think you all know how well that went over.  He couldn’t be bothered with the chairs when there was a display of decorative canes nearby.  He kept calling them bats and trying to take them out of the stand so that he could play baseball.  There were screeches involved as I pulled him away repeatedly, begging for him to notice the chairs (again, the screams of an annoying toddler usually hurries people up just to get rid of them but I assume the pharmacist was slightly deaf because he was still going as slow as molasses).



Then he spotted IT; a rogue mylar balloon that someone had left in a corner.  He had to have it so off he ran to grab it.  At this point, I was annoyed by the ‘way past 15 minutes’ it had taken to fill this prescription so I broke down and just let him beat up that poor balloon (I generally discourage this kind of behavior, but I was exhausted; at least I didn’t let him do it with one of the canes).  He had fun with this for another 5 minutes before he finally noticed the chairs and took the opportunity to try to use them as hurdles WITH THE BALLOON STILL IN TOW, practically strangling himself.  Finally, nearly 30 minutes later, the prescription was ready.  I signed the form and grabbed the medicine while giving the pharmacist the evil eye (the guy was on the phone laughing so he totally deserved it – plus it was much better than the scenario in my head where I grabbed a cane and poked him in the eye).

It was finally time to get the heck out of there, but Big Trouble still had the balloon and I had no intention of waiting in yet another line to buy the $4 punching bag.  So, I tried to take it away.  Um, yeah, he wasn’t going to let that thing go without a fight.  He had a kung fu grip on that flimsy string and I was trying desperately not to break it.  Then he had the grand idea of running in circles around me so that I couldn’t get it.  As I tried to catch him, we both got caught up in the string and tumbled to the ground, a la a bad fight on girls gone wild.  So, there I was, literally caught in a balloon string wrestling match on the floor of the grocery store.  Nevermind the fact that it’s disgusting to be on a public floor, I couldn’t get up until I figured out how to unravel us from the string.  People at the bakery were staring; people walking by were staring; people checking out were staring; that *#&%#*^% pharmacist was staring.  It was fantastic.

approximation of how it went down (minus the spandex)

approximation of how it went down (minus the spandex)

Meanwhile, Big Trouble thought I had planned this fun on purpose so he was laughing hysterically.  I finally managed to get us out of the death trap and I punched the balloon directly at the face of the pharmacist (sadly, the helium didn’t let it travel far enough to do any damage).  I picked up B.T. and our grocery items and hobbled out of the store, shaken and filthy, but with my head held high because I had won the battle of the balloon.

Needless to say, it was not one of my finer moments of motherhood and I am lucky that I had kids before I was older and got osteoporosis because I really could have broken a hip.  However, the next few days went by without incident and (as previously mentioned) when the weekend finally rolled around, we got to go out to eat for the first time in a year and he sat there like an angelic child.  I also was able to take him for ice cream while the big kids had a fun day with daddy and he didn’t even make a huge mess (nor did he try to Superman off of the highest point of the playground when we went to play = success)!

I guess the lesson I need to take from this is, for the love of God, “NO BALLOONS”, give him food, and no more using that pharmacy, even if it is free.  I am hoping that his recent calm behavior will continue because God feels as though I have been embarrassed enough for this year.  I must tell you, it is so much nicer sharing a brownie sundae with Mr. Trouble than rolling around on the floor of the grocery store, bless his heart.

My sweet boy sharing a treat with me AT A PUBLIC VENUE!

My sweet boy sharing a treat with me AT A PUBLIC VENUE!

Why I Still Like The Woman Who Called My Son A Brat

As I have mentioned before, I have started trying to treat my two-year-old like an older kid and give him a little more running room when it comes to outings.  I have extended this attempt (slightly) to the times when we are running errands and I can sense that he has no intention of staying quietly seated in the cart.  This often makes these outings more difficult, but I can see with each new trip that he is slowly getting better at behaving and acting like a nice little boy rather than a tornado in a human body.

Case in point: the other day I needed to go pick up a coffee mug and a box of tea cookies for my kids to “donate” to their Sunday School’s basket of coffee goodies which will be raffled off for charity.  I headed to a store right up the street because I knew it had both of these items at very reasonable prices.  The goal was to go in, head straight to the appropriate departments, make a quick selection, pay and get out of there before Big Trouble could do any real damage.  I had a plan! (famous last words)

Naturally, Big Trouble started making a fuss after approximately 45 seconds in the cart.  “I get out….I stuck, Mom….OUT!”  Oh, are you not happy sitting in the cart where you can’t reach anything on the shelves?  Poor baby is what I was thinking sarcastically.  But, I knew I had a very short window of time before he figured out how to wiggle his way out of the seat belt (as he always does) and hurl himself onto the ground a la Superman.  So, instead of getting worked up, I calmly turned to him and asked if he would like to walk.  “Ok.  I walk.”  Great.

Now, he knows very well that if he is walking somewhere, then he is holding my hand the whole time, I don’t care where we are.  This may seem a bit extreme, but he is FAST and I am only semi-fast these days.  It’s just safer for all parties involved if I never let go.  He happily obliged my demand for hand holding and we started our march toward the housewares department.  I knew this was risky seeing as though I was going to look at mugs (breakable) which were located right by plates (breakable) and vases (breakable) and weird sculptures that I don’t understand (again, breakable).  You get the picture.  It was very daring of me.  I like to live life on the edge.

We made it to the department without incident.  I started to check out the silly mugs because I prefer things that make me laugh.  My little guy told me he would sit while I looked so I said ok…until I watched him go over to the neighboring shelf and try to sit on a mini chest of drawers because it looked like stairs to him.  Not great.  Luckily, I caught him before any damage occurred and I brought him back to a little alcove one foot away from where I was browsing.  He sat down and then looked at me suspiciously.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him scooting forward on his butt in an attempt to sneak over to the weird ceramic sculptures.  I pulled him back.  Two seconds later, he started scooting again.  I pulled him back.  He scooted again.  We went through this groundhog’s day of tug of war for about 5 minutes.  I listened to him tell me, “I gentle, mommy” repeatedly as if saying that phrase over and over again would save the weird frog planter from being destroyed at his tiny, but powerful hands.  No one believes you, kid.  Sorry.  Back to the corner.

Why didn’t I just give up after the first few attempts, one might ask? Because I am not a quitter!  And because I am stupid.  I finally decided that I had found the perfect cup (aka, the one closest to my hands the final time he tried to pet the 3 foot glass giraffe) and I led him away from the breakables to the coffee aisle where the tea biscuits could be found.  “COOKIES!” he shouted excitedly as he tried to convince me to buy every box available.  I spied a small box that looked exciting and appropriate on the top shelf, grabbed it and handed it to him to hold as we quickly made our way off of that aisle before he reduced the products to crumbs.

We skipped to the front of the store (I pulled a muscle in my leg because I am old but it was worth it) so that we could finally make our purchases and get out of there.  Unfortunately, there was a line.  This is the fear of all mothers just trying to make it through a “quick” shopping adventure.  And, I had no cart!  “Open it, open it” could be heard by everyone in line as my little guy kept trying to get into our to-be-donated box of cookies.  I was too busy praying that the people in front of us would spontaneously combust so that we could move to the front of the line to answer him right away.  He didn’t understand why we had to wait when he was ready to go so I also got a few “Come on, mom.  You ready?  I ready!  Let’s go!”

Got it, kid.  Believe me, nobody wants to get out of here faster than I do (except maybe the people in line with us who were tired of hearing him too).  At this point, he threw himself on the floor in protest of the situation and the fact that the cookies we were getting were not for his enjoyment.  I kept my feet wrapped around him so he couldn’t get away and I would have just stood there but I noticed people were looking so I decided to pretend that I was nervous about how dirty the floor was in there.  That’s what good moms do, right?  Ooh, honey, don’t lay on the floor!  It’s dirty! (No one needs to know that he had already spent a good 10 minutes rolling around in the housewares department so the dirt part is moot).  Come on now, get up and hold my hand.

As I attempted to hold his hand and keep him with me as the line progressed, he threw himself on the floor again.  Not my favorite action, but at least he wasn’t screaming very loudly.  The woman behind us started chuckling and said, “if it was me, I would just leave him there and step over the body.”  This was my kind of woman.  She wasn’t judging or giving useless tips, she was making light of the crazy situation in a very blase’ tone.  She was supporting me with an attitude very similar to my own, something I had never experienced from a stranger before!  I laughed back and said that I would totally do that if not for the fact that he was a runner and my adroitness is not on par with his.

She started laughing again at the now huge ball of dust known as my son still rolling around on the ground and muttered, “little brat”.  She then stopped laughing immediately, realizing that she had just called a stranger’s kid “a brat” straight to the mother’s face.  She then started the long road to ejecting one’s foot from one’s mouth by trying to switch it to “beast” as though that’s what she said the first time (and as if beast is much better than brat); then she started giggling nervously and changed beast to “beastoid” because apparently she just couldn’t think of any words to make her faux pas any less offensive so she made one up and then she just stopped talking.  This entire onslaught of unintentional insults happened in about 5 seconds and I have to tell you that I found it to be the FUNNIEST thing I have ever witnessed in my life.  I may have actually snorted while trying not to laugh at the mess that kept coming out of her mouth.

approximate visualization of a beastoid

approximate visualization of a beastoid

Obviously, I, too, was thinking what a little brat my son was being and I often refer to him as a beast (although he will now be referred to as a beastoid because I really like that word better) but she was a stranger and she didn’t know that.  Under any other circumstance, my mama bear instinct might not have taken so kindly to someone  outing my son as a beastoid, but I could tell that she didn’t mean any harm.  She was just speaking out loud as a mother who has probably called all of her kids beastoids at some point in their lives.  And, she had the good grace to realize the mistake and be embarrassed about it, even while just burying herself deeper and deeper into the “I can’t believe I said that so I better fix it but it’s just getting worse the longer I keep talking” hole.

If we hadn’t been called up to the next register right after that (THANK GOD), this woman and I might have become life long friends, all because she called my son a brat!  She will hold a special place in my heart from this moment on as I will forever remember the day my son was christened “beastoid” by a total stranger.  It suits him and I never would have been so imaginative.

Moral of the story, if you approach a bratty kid and engage the struggling mother, have a good attitude and a sense of humor and you may actually get away with calling her kid names (or at least give her a laugh)!  And, if some well-intentioned stranger accidentally calls your kid a beastoid, give her a break; she’s probably just having flashbacks from rearing her own children.

Now I must run because my brat beast beastoid is trying to climb into the tub fully clothed.

Potty Training Progress….NOT

Well, it has been a few months since I have written about the joys of potty training a little boy.  I’m back with an update on our progress – THERE HASN’T BEEN ANY.  I personally think it is his mission to postpone this milestone as long as possible just to see how long I will be willing to wipe his smeared poo-butt (the result of breakdancing on the floor after hiding in the corner to do his business in his diaper) or pick up the pieces of poo that fall out of his diaper/clean the floor (also the result of breakdancing and then running away from me when finished with his corner business).

I even broke down and went to the library specifically for books about the potty since the dvds have done squat (I even checked out a few books directing me how to coach him, even though I have been through this 2 times before and I’m fairly certain I have already read everything there is to know, none of which is helpful).

We found 3 picture books with different stories: one about a defiant princess (whose attitude seemed vaguely familiar to my little guy) that didn’t like her potty; one about a pirate who crossed the sea to get to his potty, pirate underwear and all; and a Little Critter book about getting a new potty.  Here’s how those books went over:

Book #1:

*Me – The princess didn’t want to use her potty.  That’s probably because she didn’t have a cool Cars potty like you do (I make the books say what I want them to say when my big kids aren’t around to correct me).  Don’t you think she would like to use your Cars party? Vroom, vroom!

*Big Trouble – Ooh toys!  (Of all of the pictures on the page, he bypasses the potty and notices that the princess is playing with toys).

*Me – Yes, she has toys, but she would rather have a Cars potty.  Let’s see if she gets one on the next page when all of the townspeople bring her new potties!  Ooh, she got a potty with polka dots! And one that glows in the dark!  That would be fun to use!

*Big Trouble –  Ooh stairs! (someone was climbing stairs to hand over a potty).

*Me – Yep, there’s the stairs, but look at how she got new underwear so that she could use the big girl potty!  You have some new underwear that you can wear when you use the big boy potty!

*Big Trouble – Princess went pee-pee and poo-poo. (WAIT, WHAT?!)

*Me – THAT’S RIGHT! (yes, I screamed it because I was so shocked that he finally tuned in)  Don’t you want to go pee-pee and poo-poo in the potty?

*Big Trouble – ooh, cookies.

And, that’s how that book went.

Book #2:

*Me – Look, here’s a big boy pirate who wants to find the potty.  Do you see the potty?

*Big Trouble – ooh, pirate! yeah!

*Me – There’s his potty!  See how the pirate uses the potty?  He doesn’t like diapers.

*Big Trouble – ooh, bird. (FOCUS KID!)

*Me – yep, pirates who use the potty get a bird.  (wait, did I just kind of try to bribe him with a bird? oops)  And here’s his cool hat that he wears on the potty.  We have a pirate hat you can wear on the potty if you want to.

*Big Trouble – ooh, mouse. (oh well, at least he didn’t catch my accidental bird bribery).

*Me – yep, that’s a mouse.  But look here at this fun pirate potty!  The pirate uses his potty like a big boy!  You can be a big boy like the pirate if you go to the potty and not in your diaper.

*Big Trouble – oh no, he cry. baby cry.

*Me – no, he’s laughing, not crying.  He’s happy he is a big boy using the potty.

*Big Trouble – oh no, he cry.

*Me – no, honey, he’s not sad, he’s happy!  Potties are fun!

*Big Trouble – Buzz! Rex-y! Woody! Bullseye! (He was no longer concerned with the crying pirate as he had already moved on to a Toy Story book that was on the floor next to us)

Book #3:

Me – Hold on sweetie, Little Critter is going to get a new potty in this book! That’s more fun than Toy Story!

Big Trouble – I say NO! (he got off my lap and ran off to find his farm animals).

So, as you can see, great strides in the art of potty training are being made here at our house.   Sigh.