Preschool Problems

In September Kole started preschool.  His classroom is idyllic.  Little chairs, little tables, little computers.  Well.  I guess the computers are normal sized just on little desks.  He likes preschool and he likes that he gets to go by himself.  Without Joey.  As much as he has taken to Joey lately- it still seems like Joey is the pebble in the shoe of Kole.  Joe Joe sure is a happy pebble though! 

Most days Kole is so happy when he comes home.
Mom!  We sang about Scat the Cat!  She's blue!
Mom!  We had GRAHAM CRACKERS! (He was so happy about this.  I was like, "What?!  CHILD!  I be giving you graham crackers every day!)
Mom!  I can button my shirt! Look! Peek-a-boooo, Pull It Through!
Mom!  They have a new turntable for the trains!
Mom!  I like Rockwell.  He's my friend now!

But a couple times Kole comes home all weighed down by the Preschool World.
His shoulders are drooped and he says he is "just very tired." 
(But he can't say "j" so it's "I'm woost very tired.")

One day he was especially low.  When I asked what was wrong he just sighed and looked away.

What is it little cub?
Today, I really wanted to sit by Bridger.  But somebody else sat in the seat by him and the teacher told me to pick a different chair.

And then Kole sobbed.  He sobbed until his face was blotchy and his body was limp.

The most practical part inside of me said: This kid. Poor guy thinks he's got it rough because he couldn't sit by Bridger.  PREschool problems.  Itty bitty preschool problems.  Life is so easy for him if all that's wrong is he can't sit by Bridger.  He has no idea.

And then I realized...
Preschool problems happen our whole life.
There will be more times he won't get to sit by the person he wants to sit by.
And more than once it'll probably be someone telling him that he can't sit by them instead of him just not getting there fast enough.  There will be friends that aren't really his friends.  There will be people to call him names and call him out and not call when they say they will.  He won't make every team he tries out for.  There will be times he'll only get 2nd place.  And times he won't place at all. He'll have break-ups.  And college rejection letters.  There will be jobs he won't get.  There will be unfair consequences to unfair rules. He will fail even when he works hard.  He will be hurt.  A lot.  And there will be many days when he'll want to sob until he is limp.
He will have preschool problems for the rest of his life.

Because Preschool Problems are real-life problems that start too young.

And when I realized that...
I put his head up on my shoulder and told him,
"Today was just a bad day, Cub.  But, don't worry.  Its probably your last one."

And I broke out the Double Stuffed Oreos* and we went out to watch the tractors.






*Gotta start eating through emotions at an early age.

This stinks.

I don't think what I am doing with Kole should be called Potty Training.  It should be called Poop-Whereever-The-Hell-You-Want-And-Mom-Will-Clean-It-Up.  Or use can use the acronym: PWTHYWAMWCIU.
I'm on Day 3.  So for three full days I've been scraping poop out of underwear and scrubbing pee out of clothes and telling myself, "He's not ready."  And then giving myself a little boost and saying, "Ohhh.  Hang in there, babe.  He'll get it.  You're a good Mom.  And you're smart.  You got this."   And then the stench of a low funded nursing home takes over my house.

Kole's loving it.  I think he loves the prospect of receiving an M&M.  I filled a jar with them and set it where he can see it and I've told him over and over, "If you go in the toilet you get an M&M!"  Oh the sparkles in his eyes.  The jar should still be full (instead of mostly empty) because Kole has yet to earn an M&M....but...I've been helping myself.  What?  Quit judging.  After the 30th time walking to the bathroom at 15 minute intervals I think I deserve one peanut M&M when Kole's not looking. Wert.

I thought we were so set up.  Fancy underwear.  (Lightning McQueen)  Special cushy toilet seat. Sturdy step stool.  I was told to have them drink lots of liquid so they remember what to do and get the hang of it.  We're an anti-juice anti-pop family.  (Well... for the tots.) So I put food coloring in Kole's water and told him it was juice.  The gullible chap believed me and wanted me to taste how good it was.

He's drinking a ton of "juice," sitting there every 15 minutes, we're singing songs about pee and poop and all kinds of words that make me uncomfortable, I have been bribing him with the promise of treats, we put fizzy pellets in the toilet water, when those ran out, I put food coloring in the toilet water.  You know- Wow!  Fun!  The water's blue!  Not buying it.  It kinda upset him.  (Mom Bomb #7584)
He seemed a little tense... so we did some breathing exercises.
I let him watch a video on my phone.
And we sit there and sit there and sit there.

 Joey remains helpful, toodling around doing his thing.  Which is climbing in the tub, opening cabinets, getting into my makeup, spreading vaseline on things, trying to put his hand in the toilet water behind Kole's bum, eating all the toilet paper he's spun off the roll.  You'd think that in a bathroom that's like 10 square feet... there wouldn't be that much to get into.  Wrong, Patty-Mom, wrong.

What's killing me is, Kole knows how to do use the bathroom.  He's so proud that he can pull his own pants down and then pull his underwear down and sit on the toilet and be "big." He seems to be stubborn about it.  Because, he'd not go on the toilet and instead wait until he was in the warmth and protection of his new undies and then release. It's been an emotional roller-coaster for the Koley.  Long days of interrupted play-time and sitting on the toilet with no success...

After 15 or so loads of itty bitty McQueen underpants being washed I told Kole he just has to be naked from the belly button down.  The child was humiliated.  "But my pants," he cried to me, "I have to wear them.  They cover me where it's private."
A proud Mom moment there.
I assured him his argument was sound and meaningful and we wouldn't go anywhere.  We would just stay home while his pants were off.  No one was going to see him naked. To this, he agreed.

(Aaaaaand... as a P.S. .... he's totally comfortable in our yard sans pants so- yeah that was Koley pushing his lawnmower this morning wearing just a shirt and sandals.)

This is where I had success.  Normally when the urge hits him he runs and hides and does his thing and then tells me he peed his pants.  Without pants he was at a loss.  He ran up to me and said, "I have to pee but where will it go?"
"In the toilet, m' good boy!," I announced as I grabbed his shoulder!
And so we ran in the house, got all situated on the toilet, and sat there while nothing happened.  I knew it was in there.  So we waited.... over 5 minutes...close to 10 minutes.  And then a little drop hit the water.  And then another.  And then, finally.... a steady stream. 

"I'm doing it, Mom!"

The First 1st Birthday Party

Koley had his first (of three) birthday parties on Sunday.  It was a dog theme.  That theme was picked strictly on the fact that Koley can say "dog."  He loves to hear dogs, point at dogs, pet dogs, see dogs... anything dog related is right up Kole's alley.  I ordered a cake from Sam's and got them to put a dog on it.  (They said the picture was edible... but I tasted it and it tasted like wet paper towels.  I mean I guess you can eat wet paper towels if you want to but they aren't any good.)  The cake was good though.  Yellow cake with strawberry filling and butter cream icing.  FanTAStic. Dare I say, my favorite.  (About half was left after the par-tay and me and Ken ate it within 36 hours... yeah... good.)

Koley got his own cake.  Being one and all.  Ken didn't totally think he'd go for it because Kole doesn't like sticky things... but we all do crazy things for sweets.  The boy had cake everywhere.  In his hair, eyebrows, ears, belly button, arm pits, and in between his toes.  I was so proud of him.  He likes sweets just like hims mama.

When I was growing up, the rule for birthday parties was- you can invite Grandma and one friend. But I'm running my own house now and I'm a big softie and let Kole invite 2 friends.  He invited Colton and Taylee and they were party animals!  Literally.

Kole hasn't grasped the concept of presents.  Luckily, Colton was there to help because Kole was happy as can be just... sitting on his gifts.  People look at me funny when I sit on gifts but Kole got a lot of laughs.

This was his first present.  I sat it next to him and he just looked alllll around.  Like there was nothing there.   I asked my mom, "How do I make him open it?"

 

 

It was a gorgeous day to celebrate my gorgeous son.  I amso proud of him and Ken and myself. 
Yup!
I'm still riding that confidence wave.

Uno

All day today I have been looking at the clock going:
"It's ten to 10.  We were getting ready to head over to the hospital."
"It's 10:05.  We were driving to the hospital. I was telling Ken,'Don't speed, don't speed, don't speed.  I don't want to get pulled over."
"It's 1:00.  They wheeled in that tray of baby delivering stuff.  They broke my water."
"It's 5:46.  I was pushing."

My mom told me I would do this today.  I think it's just natural.  She also said that on the baby's first birthday it's really the mom that deserves the cake and the presents.  I would have to agree.  But I'm a big cake lover.  And who doesn't love presents.

I have felt a current of emotions today.
Starting with proud.
I am proud my little man can do all that he can.  He really impresses me.  He is sharp as a tack.  Loves to point at dogs, planes, me, Dad, food (especially oaties), and books.  I am proud that he is a lovey baby who wants to snuggle all the time.  I am proud that he is determined to reach his goals.  I know they are only little baby goals... like get the blue ball and push it into the kitchen but he tries really hard to reach them and never gives up.  That makes me proud of him.  I'm proud that he is a good sleeper and a good eater.  I am proud that he is not a complainer and I like to think I taught him that.  Though, truth be told I'm pretty sure he inherited that from his Dad.  I am also proud of myself.  For doing this.  For becoming a mom.  I consider myself one now.  I'm proud of how I raise Kole.

I've been a little teary today.
I feel like I am losing my little baby.  He has no idea that he is one now and a "toddler" but he is.  I miss holding him all day and taking naps together in the big bed.  I miss all his little teeny tiny soft cries and his little fold up bath tub.  I miss his tiny clothes (even though they were never that small).  I miss setting him on the bed and knowing he will be there no matter what.  I miss having Koley as my baby.  I remember Day 1.  It seems like Day 1 was yesterday I remember it so well.

Finally, I have felt extremely confident today.
I did it.  I made it through a whole year.  All the crying (on both of our parts), and worry, and learning, and growing, and adapting, and change... I did it.  I feel like "Bring It On July 19th!  I already did your day once and I can do it again."  I am confident that I am doing the right thing in the right way and no one knows better than I do when it comes to Koley Moley Stromboli.  He is my son.

And he is one today.
It has been a very good year.

 

Let The Walls Fall Down

Kole became really mobile this week.  (Please continue to emphasize the "i" in mobile... I like the long "i" sound.)  Personally, I think it was spending a weekend with his cousins of all sizes.  He got the hint that he could move on his own if he wanted.  It was a long time coming but the change came over night.  I had heard moms say that and always figured it was an exaggeration.  Nope!  Since the baby came I have thought our house was pretty baby proof.  I had to throw those socket protectors in and install a baby gate- but I felt like my bases were covered.  But this week has proved me absolutely wrong and led me to the conclusion that:  Yes, I am a bad mother.  Or, as my friend Karlenn has said of herself, "Bad mom move #768."  The woman has four kids. I've only got one and my Bad Mom Move count is nearing the 10,000 mark.  So kudos to Karros.
With Kole moving.... it's like a tornado has gone through.  He doesn't even move that fast!  He's not making a mess either really.  How to put this.  Maybe a list.

THINGS THAT HAVE FALLEN ON KOLEY-OLEY

1. The floor lamp.  It's about 6 feet high.  Rod iron. Apparently, really unstable.
2. A flower vase.  Not a mini one. But not from high up either.  It's on of those big, girth-y floor vases that have sticks in them.  Yeah- it weighs like 20 pounds but he tipped it over... onto himself.
3. The vacuum.  Kole has had a long running, hot and cold relationship with the vacuum.  He loves it he hates it.  All pretty junior high if you ask me.  They are on a love peak right now.  Well, with showing the house I do a lot of cleaning and I had the vacuum out.  Kole was exploring.  Stroking the vacuum, admiring the vacuum, reciting sonnets to the vacuum.  Then, he hit the level that releases the handle.  And he was trapped by the vacuum.  Screaming and kicking and so sure he would never escape.  I'm sure this will have an effect on their relationship.
4. There's been all the normal little things too.  Books.  The kid ones- not any encyclopedias.  Sippy cups.  Those plastic containers wipes come in.  The mail.  How is this child still moving  Why isn't he limping or dragging a little leg behind him when he crawls?  How is he not completely bruised?

What baffles me is I am there all the time.  Watching him.  Like a golden eagle.  And then I bend to tie my shoe or look out the window to see if it's still raining and ka-frickin-boom.  Kole is pinned.  I think hope it's getting better.  So far today his only injury is a paper cut on that space between your lips and nose.  It's gotta be painful.  And I didn't give it to him.  He likes putting everything in his mouth.  Such are the hazards of his occupation. 

As hard as I am on myself for my guardianship over him (or lack thereof) he's been sweeter and more snugly lately.  I know, who thought that was even possible, right? He's started to rest his head on my shoulder and just hold me there.  When I think I've hit rock bottom and they should take away my mom badge- he reassures me that I'm doing all right.

My List, My Sisters, My Koley

For starters I can check a second things off my "26 Before 27" list.  (Number 1 was dye my own hair... saving that post.)  I played the piano in church.  I have done it before as an accompanist which to me is always pretty overlooked.  You just figured there is some piano super star playing and you listen to the singers.  I was asked to play for Easter.  I practiced for hours.  Ken was so sick of the song.  I was so sick o the song... "Easter Prayer."  It was a medley.  Why do medleys always have really dumb names?  Anyway I wanted to know the song really well.  To the point where it was almost memorized.  I was there.  I was so ready to play it. I was first on the program... and was doing well.  I play really soft. I get nervous.  About half way through I heard Kole.  Not cry.  Just make a sound and, I am not kidding, I looked up.  I looked away from the music.  I stopped playing for like a second. It felt like a minute.  Slow motion big time.  So embarrassing- and what was even worse?  I lost my place after that.  Because I had it mostly memorized I didn't really know where  I was.  I found my spot but my confidence was shot.  Let's just say the song ended. Period.  There was the normal "You did really good" comments in the hall- I live in a super overly nice ward.  I want to play it again just to say "See!  I CAN play this!  I just got distracted. Come on!  Give me another chance!"  But- I did it.  2 down.  24 left.

Let's see.... I would like to dedicate an entire post to the Bradley Reunion which occurred over the weekend.  At this time I only wish to offer a teaser.  We had our pictures professionally taken on Friday night.  I am incredible misplaced in a family of tall, gorgeous, naturally slender women.  But the pictures turned out great.  I think we were honing Kardashians. (May become more evident in pictures posted later.)  At the shoot, I felt like the problem child.  The photographer and his assistant kept having to stop and say, "Patty could you put your chin up... no... too far.... sigh... back. "  or"Patty your hand is... not right."  "Patty."  "Patty."  "PATTY!"  Posing and looking good doing it are not natural abilities I possess.  I can make killer caramel popcorn and I can read really fast.  I can't pose right for a picture though.  Notice how I am the only one doing nothing fun?  I am just looking at the camera?  Boring.  Boringboringboringboring.  But!  Please also take note of those killer calves!  I am so proud of my legs.

There's news with Koley too!  First off, he has taken off with his crawling as of Friday.  No more GI Crawl.  No more Swiffering.  He can go.  I think it was being around his cousins.  He is completely enthralled by other children.  He just stares.  Like a love-sick teenager.  Or a little puppy being offered the biggest bag of Pupperoni ever.  And wants to be as close to them as he can.  It's so tender.

This is him saying, "Mom you're in my way.  I'm trying to get closer to these miniature humans I keep seeing around here."

Note all his extra joints on his forearm.  There's the elbow, the mid arm, the pre-wrist, the wrist.  the kid has chub.  AND!  He's cutting two teeth!  It's a twofer- toother.  I couldn't resist.  His bottom fronts.  You can't see them yet but you can feel them.  His little gums are sore, sore, sore.  And my nippies are sore, sore, sore.  I swear he is using me as a grindstone.  Youch.  He's going to blog all about it this week- so check over on his des temps en temps.