How to Not Potty Train Twins

Dear World:

Just in case you mistakenly believe that I have this whole mom thing figured out, let me be completely honest.  There is one thing, one huge, smelly, icky thing, that I totally suck at: Potty Training.

Maddie took forever.  There was much attempt at patience as well as smiles, silly songs, a cute potty chair, and an extra attachment for the adult toilet.  Then came the frustration, the accidents, the crying (mainly on my part), and the utter despair.  Finally, my mother-in-law laid down the law.  Maddie was told, in no uncertain terms, that if she peed in Grammy’s floor, she was going to get a spanking.  That’s all it took!  After a year and a half of effort on my part, my mother-in-law’s voice was the answer.  There were almost no accidents from that point on!  It was like a blessing from the heavens.

With the twins, I knew it would be more difficult.  The plan was to wait until they were older than Maddie was when we started trying to house break her.  The problem with all best laid plans, however, it that my twins don’t like plans.  They don’t follow the directives given them, and they make their own rules.  At about twenty months, they began ripping off their diapers like it was the greatest game ever invented.  Imagine, or it may be more pleasant if you don’t imagine, the effects of ripping off a diaper filled with liquid and often solid toddler byproducts, often at high velocities.  Most dramatic were the times when the removal occurred before naps, and again, if you are brave of heart, imagine what that looked like by the time they woke up.

So, with a heavy heart and knowledge of what was in store, I began the journey toward civilized bathroom usage with our identical mass producers of foulness.

What I have learned follows:

  1. Never get too excited too quickly.

When I began this journey, I was so excited to see the twins happily sit on the potty, or even the full-sized toilet.  Maddie never cooperated and we had to coax her to remain in a full-upright and seated position.  I was ecstatic!  Surely this would not take as long with them as it had with her.

  1. Never assume that your positive attitude will affect the attitudes of wee small ones.

I was all smiles.  We were going to do this.  It would not only save me the time wasted in cleaning their goo-encrusted bums, but think of the money that would be saved not having to buy diapers for two!  If I kept smiling they would happily “Let it Go” and the process would be over.  (In fact, we even sang that song as they sat, time after time, on the potty seats and produced NOTHING.

  1. Never believe that buying cute products will work wonders.

When I really got down to the business of training them, necessitated again by a frenzied drive toward total nakedness on their parts (I swear no one else in the house is driven by nudist tendencies), I sent my husband to the store to buy a second potty chair that closely resembled the one left over from our trials with Maddie.  Armed with not one but two Froggy Potties, the twins and I excitedly renewed our vigor.  Now they fight over who gets which seat… fail.

  1. Never waste money on specialized butt covering devices.

While I haven’t wasted money on pull-up style training diapers this time around, we did have some left over from several years ago, so out of storage they came.  The babies do quite well putting them on themselves, but guess what else they can do…  Those suckers come off with a fluidity and a velocity far surpassing that of the previously mentioned flying diapers.  I swear!  You could do physics experiments based on the trajectory of these little pink and white missiles.

  1. Never feel bad for ingenuity.

I must admit, in my frustration, that there have been days (many of them) that I have needed a break.  Twice, so far, I have resorted to taping diapers on them.  Interestingly, the sound of the tape being unrolled sends them into panicked sceams, and I am not sure why.  In all honesty, as I type and they run around their room bare butted and threatening to flood the world, I am eyeing the packing take with great intensity.  I am attempting to resist the urge, but resistance is often futile.

In total honesty, the twins are almost no closer to being potty trained than they were when I began this journey.  I am more frustrated than I want to be, but we will continue to persevere.  If nothing else, I can always buy stock in cleaning products and hope for the marked to increase…

Yours truly,

One very tired Mommy

Have Phone… Will Talk

The twins like to talk, correction, LOVE to talk… when they want to.  This is often not when I want them to or about what I would like to discuss.  In fact, we have reached the growl, whine, and stomp phase.  They favorite words are “MOOO!” (move), “eenaa” (banana), “abba” (apple), and “peet-zaa” (you can figure that one out).  The also like the phrase “Mine, aaaa mine!”  What they also can say, but often don’t, are things like “please,” “more,” and “I love you.”  (They like to wrestle, smack, and occasionally try to use their teeth as weapons of minor destruction.)

I find it strange, however, that when you put a phone in their hands, they can talk for ever, often in a language I don’t speak, but heaven help you if you try to take the phone from them.

Ahh… they are truly girls… and just think, I have three of them!

 

Please send chocolate.

photo9

(Abby at top and Makayla at bottom)

Big Fish/Small Pond: Student Entitlement

Eleven years in, there are still some things that just floor me. Looking at the general population of students at the small school where I teach, from the bottom of my heart, I know that they are good humans. They will grow and mature, become vital members of our community, and someday raise families of their own. There are some, however small that minority, who are so assured of their status in this world.

They make me cringe.

My filter, which is always worn thin by this point in the school years, has great difficulty not reminding them of who they are and where they are (and sometimes where they come from). I manage to refrain.

When, oh when, did we- a civilized group of human beings- start raising a group of children who are so lost in their own expectations of entitlement that they forget to see the value of work and sacrifice, or even determination?

Why do they assume that they get to roam the halls just because they feel like it? In groups of seven or eight? For thirty minutes at a time?

Why do they get to use the bathroom in another building just because they don’t “like” the one only a few feet away from my classroom door? When did their trips start involving being gone for twenty minutes or more, and what do they think they need to do with a cell phone while they are there? When did the expectation become that teachers are to be ok with this? Teachers, who are lucky to get a two minute bathroom break, are expected to sacrifice the content and context of a lesson so that students can take good care of their colon and their Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Snap Chat account.

When did it become an assumption that deadlines don’t matter? Work can be turned in at random, partially completed, and we are expected to simply put a check on it, log in a perfect score, and return it without complaint.

Who made the rule that only certain students need to monopolize classroom discussions, as if their peers have nothing else to say? Or that they should determine the topic of said discussions? And the duration, volume, and intensity?

Why is it assumed that I will award extra credit for being a good student, or following the rules, or being a human being?

Most importantly, what will become of these individuals who suffer from big fish/small pond syndrome when we are no longer around to support their delusions?

And Still I Weep

Facebook is a tool both wonderful and terrible. It brings fast information with no real details. In an instant, you learn of relationships and birthdays, scandals and successes, and deaths…

That was the news this morning.

In my eleven years of teaching, I have lost five students. Three left us in a single calendar year. I remember all of their faces. Teaching high school, I look for the college graduations and wedding announcements. These are things these children will never bring me.

The hardest loss, for me, was Sunshine. Her smile was so bright that the planets would realign their orbit to circle her. She was a leader from birth and never even knew it, a force so strong that I’m sure the devil himself shook with fear when she renounced him. I vividly remember our last conversation; I am so glad I stopped to talk. She changed my life and taught me more than I ever could have taught her.

I am blessed to have known her.

Her memorial was a parking space of flowers and an empty chair at graduation. Her legacy is so much more.

Tomorrow will be a day to hug my students when needed. A day to treasure them. To look beyond the frustrations of my work and remember that we only have each other here for a little while.

Rest in peace my students.
________________________________________________________________
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring