Mommy, WOW! I'm a big kid now!

One day about 2 weeks ago I accidentally potty trained Shorty.

He knew what the potty was and knew if he used it he'd get stickers on his chart and M&Ms in his tummy. He knew that he'd get to wear his super-cool Thomas underpants if he started to use the potty as more than just a place to sit while he brushed his teeth.

However, the tiny man was not really interested in giving it a go...and I was not interested in a big fight. You can read about my fights with his brothers here and here and here and here.

One Thursday, we went to watch the Brothers swim and then collect them from school. This usually takes 45 minutes. Naturally, I didn't bring a clean diaper. Also naturally, Shorty pooped 2 minutes after we arrived. I took him into the restroom, cleaned him up, rummaged through the emergency clothes kept at the school, and found a pair of underpants. We put them on, and I instructed him to keep his pants dry, promising that he could wear his Thomas underpants when we got home if he did.

That was that, my friends. He's been clean and dry ever since. There was a day of minor rebellion this past week after we discovered that Daddy had eaten all the M&Ms, but we pushed through. Now I officially have a house full of big boys.

And I would say that somebody is a little excited about wearing Thomas the Tank Engine on his hiney.

Who Knew?

A few weeks back I was having a particularly rough day with the boys. They were being wild and disobedient. And it was cold and damp enough outside that we couldn't just open the doors and run like mad or head to the park. What I needed was chocolate a dose of sanity, so I headed out the door to pay too much money for coffee and cookies and muffins for the four of us. Well, coffee only for one of us, but you get the picture.

At this point in time, I was beyond frustrated. I had used up my "sweet and patient" voice & even run through all of the "angry mama" voice that I had.

I had moved on to "resigned to their misbehavior and too tired to really care anymore."

So, as the boys were whining and complaining and not listening to me in the coffee shop, I would sigh and say things like

• *sigh* I can't understand you when you are whining, so you had better try again.
• *sigh* It doesn't matter how much you complain about it, you aren't getting another cookie.
• *sigh* Will you please just sit your bottom down like a big boy?
• *sigh* No, you may not show me how to do a somersault right now.

All the while, thoughts of how irritating my children were being were running through my head, as well as calculations for how early I thought I could get them into bed that night.

As we were packing up to leave, not one, but TWO different tables full of people complimented me on how PATIENT and KIND I was being with my children, adding how rare it was to see such loving parenting when kids are misbehaving in public.

*gulp* uh, thanks. 

Good thing they couldn't hear my internal monologue. Particularly the parts where I thought about just leaving the kids there for a few hours.

Apparently, my "too tired to care" voice comes across as "caring." Who knew?