The Secret Behind the Curtain and other Tales

Aukai has one and only one rule regarding potty training: don't even try it until your boy is at least 3 years old. He adopted this rule from his mother who, after raising 13 children of her own, told him that training at 2 1/2 was too young. (After raising 11 boys, how can you argue with her.) So now that Ashton has finally turned three we have tried to kick up the potty training, checking out children's books on potty time, flaunting "big boy pants" as motivation, we've even offered gummy worms if he sits on the potty, but no bites yet.

The one thing all of this has done is heightened his awareness of his own bodily functions. A few nights ago he was taking a bath with the curtain half-closed. Suddenly, he got very quiet and peaked around the curtain. With somnolence, he pointed to the other side of the tub and whispered, "Mommy. There's Wee-wee's. Over there."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that if there was wee-wee's over there, it was everywhere.


= = = = = = = = = =

As my neighbors already know, bedtime in my house can be quite an ordeal.

A couple of nights ago, however, the fireworks were especially vivid. It started out with me putting Ashton's "wall-e" toothpaste on his toothbrush without prior authorization. You see, in our household, we can't just have 1 toothpaste. No, we have to have 4 different types collected from family gifts and dental visits, and even though Ashton consistantly prefers his "wall-e" it is necessary that we consult him each night to ensure that there has been no change in preference.

He did OK . . . at first, and then the next thing I know, I'm prying him off the pantry shelves with a crowbar because he knows if he eats he will get to brush his teeth again.

And then the fireworks start (by this time, it is past 11), and he has shut himself into the linen closet because he doesn't want to go downstairs because it is too far away from me but doesn't want to have to look at me. It is a complicated thing being a three year old.

At that point, I sat by the linen closet and tried to coax him to calm down enough to be able to talk to me. Finally, in shallow breaths and broken words he sniffled that he wanted to pick his own toothpaste. "Can you ask nicely?" Of course not, at this point it is a matter of principle.

But principle or not, he was ready to come out of the closet and talk to me. I asked if I could have a kiss. Again, on matter of principle, the answer was no as he ran towards me with his arms outstretched. And as he sat in my arms, a little ball of sniffles, I whispered in his ear, "I love you." Bursting into tears, his resounding reply was a simple, "me too" as if we were two lovers making up from a bitter fight. And I guess we were.

Isaac figures out just how smart I am . . .

I just finished a research elective. This means that after 5 weeks of surgery and several weeks of medicine my kids are finally starting to believe that I really do live here and remember that they once knew me as their mother. It has been a great opportunity for me to get to know them again as well.

For example, left with only his father to fend for him, Ashton is now able to prepare his own breakfast in the morning, including climbing 6 feet to the top shelf of our cupboard to pick out his favorite cereal. Isaac, on the other hand, has turned to song writing. His latest debut, "Pick the Wild Morning Glory" (the volume of which is about to crack my computer screen) will soon be released for purchase.

One of Isaac's favorite puzzles is a puzzle of the 50 states. I walked in on him starting the puzzle this morning and, looking right at me, he yelled out, "Dad, can you please help me." I smiled and kindly offered to help him. He gave me a look, shrugged his shoulders and said, "OK, but it might be pretty hard for you."

As we put the pieces in, I began reading off the name of each of the states. When we got to RI, Vermont and Conneticut, he looked at me in amazement. "Wow, Mom . . . you're smarter than I thought you were!"

Needless to say, I am relieved to find my cognitive abilities have the approval of a 4-year-old.