I’ve been reading about potty training for a while now, so I would know when Styx was ready. Most of what I read was geared towards children two and half to three years and older. My kid doesn’t talk, and she can’t pull down her own pants. She doesn’t care about stickers and rewards are a concept too sophisticated for her.
So I read about elimination communication, which is something you can try with an infant (and it works! I’ve seen it!) but I really just didn’t have the patience to do with Styx. I decided I will use a combination of EC, regular potty training and what I know about her to potty train Styx.
I am giving her a sign for potty (oh, did I write that she signs? She does.) and a word, too, because her vocabulary has exploded in the last few weeks. She is really excited about sitting on the potty and we’ve had a couple of successes after just four days.
We’ll see how it goes. I don’t expect quick results, and I certainly don’t expect that she’ll be able to march herself to the bathroom and go potty by herself. I just want her to let me know when she’s ready to go so I can take her. She’ll probably continue to wear cloth diapers (maybe without an insert, eventually) until she can handle her own clothes.
Anyway, that’s my current thing.
Oh, besides the snake. But that’s a different post.
After a couple of days of reunion I finally got Styx to nap and I decided to take a little break from family members by reading blogs on the cabin couch. I pulled out my laptop (which I took to work on my classes, which I didn’t do at all) and soon enough, Dave’s eldest sister was sitting next to me.
“Whatcha doing?”
Urgh. This sister and I do not get along. She was the source of the drama three years ago at the last family reunion and I generally do not agree with any of her views on anything.
So I tell her I’m reading blogs, and she asks if I have one. It took me less than a tenth of a second to lie. No! (No, no, no, no, no, no. I have never been more glad that this blog is unconnected to my name). I don’t want her anywhere near this. Of course, if she finds it by accident I’m screwed.
That got me thinking about why I even do this, if I don’t want the people I know reading it? Most people who have blogs promote them. They read about how to increase traffic and post Facebook status like “I updated my blog, everyone!”. Not me, this blog is unconnected to my online presence. I even have a blogger account that I use to comment on others’ blogs so this blog link doesn’t even show up. I chose “Cam” as a nickname because no one has ever called me that in real life.. it’s crazy stuff.
I decided that this is an exercise in self-disclosure and if certain people were reading it I would censor myself. I don’t want to censor myself any more than I already do. This is an incomplete diary of sorts, and I write in it to remind myself. I can go back and relive pregnancy, even though what I wrote is pretty mild I remember writing it and how I felt when I wrote it. Reading my own terrible writing is helpful to me, so I keep doing it.
So why keep it out there? Well… I don’t think I would keep doing it if it was private. There is always the off-chance that something I have to say might be slightly helpful/amusing/interesting to someone else.
One time I tried to keep a cutesy blog with pictures of us and fun little stories about what we do all day… I think I updated it three times, several months apart. Can’t do it.
This isn’t about the family reunion per se. I’m not going to detail what we did and how we did it and how it was. Well… not right now anyway. These will just be little things I noticed about myself and others while I was there.
The food thing. The food at the park was pretty terrible, and I had a hard time finding things to eat. At least they had a salad bar with every meal, but after four days even salad starts getting old.
My sister in law’s husband (we’ll call him Joe) is one of those many members of David’s family that I’d never really talked to before. I have thought, based on what I heard about him, that he and I would get along, but I’d never been able to test the theory.
He’s a doctor (brownie points), a runner (more brownie points) and a vegetarian (plus plus brownie points) who likes fish. We had several chats about food, and I told him about how since I’ve stopped eating meat I feel like I have more energy and less headaches. He told me that he believes meat is pretty unnecessary and that he feels better without it as well. I was surprised to find out how much Joe’s opinion meant to me, even though I don’t know him. After all, he has an M.D., and he is in great physical condition. He has also been eating like this for many, many years.
He did say he likes fish, but only when he and his boys (they have seven boys!) go fishing. He encourages the fishing by teaching them to prepare it and by making each occasion into a little fast. He would prefer they eat fish rather than other meats, since none of the rest of his family is interested in being vegetarian.
So, of course, when his sons caught six fish in the reservoir and prepared them for everybody I ate some. It was really fantanstic fish.
Now that I’ve finished with my two most wonderful and time-consuming classes I need new things to fill my time. Of course I’m spending the rest of this week cleaning my poor neglected house that did not have any floors washed the past week or two. So sad. The week after that I’m going to Colorado for the Lastname Family Reunion 2.0, which will hopefully go a lot better than the first one.
When we get back from that we are helping with the crack-of-dawn 4th of July breakfast and my mother in law’s Independence Day bash. We get two days to breathe and then on Monday… what am I going to do?
I still have two other classes, of course, but they won’t take up much time. I’ve been thinking about learning how to sew. I have a lot of very specific ideas about clothing and I never find exactly what I want. Now it occured to me that maybe if I knew how, I could just make them myself. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to arrive at that idea. I have been looking for a “sewing for complete and total nincompoops” classes but I can’t find any that start during the relevant period of time. Maybe I can have someone teach me. Or, my preferred method of learning, maybe I can do it myself. (Is that possible?)
I’ve also been thinking about experimenting more in the kitchen. Not just for meals, I already do that, but just for kicks. Cook a meal at 2pm just for the heck of it. Then make changes to it and cook it again. Then have a tasting and let people decide which one is best. That would mean spending a lot more money on groceries, though. And doing a lot of dishes.
I have a week to come up with more options and decide.
Anyhoo, the real dilemma I am dealing with right now is: do I buy disposable diapers to take to the reunion or do I just use the coin-operated laundry at the park? We’ll be in cabins for four days. It would be easier to buy disposables but I really don’t feel comfortable about all that garbage. And the inevitable diaper rash. On the other hand, the logistics of washing diapers every other day…. I don’t know how that will work out at the park.
Styx is very interested in the potty and one thing I will definitely be doing during this part-hiatus is getting her more acquainted with the fine art of going to the bathroom.
Ooohhh, heavens. I have soo many pet peeves. I’m gonna be honest, people in general really bug me. As a group, ‘people’ are always saying stupid things.
Of course, there are people I love. The people I love also bug me sometimes. But mostly, I find something to like about everyone even if they are annoying as heck. I had to teach myself to do that, though, because I found out that I was getting hung up on everyone’s flaws and I had stopped seeing good in the annoying people.
Now I’d rather see the good than the bad. Seeing the good makes me want to be like the good parts, as opposed to filling my head with the bad parts and only wanting to not be. Given the option of being and not being, I’d rather be. –> and that’s my convoluted tribute to Hamlet.
Anyway, pet peeves. In no particular order, because I could never quantify just how much these things bother me:
1- Using slightly shorter, inaccurate versions of real words, “fridgerator” and “prego” and the two at the top of the list. Is it really so hard to say one more syllable? Be precise, people.
2- Any time that someone uses the word “pop” to mean giving birth. This one seems to almos offend me, though I don’t know why. Also (and this could be 2′)- likening children to toast and a mother to a toaster. So infuriating.
3- Whenever people pretend to know about something because they don’t want to look stupid. It’s really perfectly acceptable if you don’t know something. No reasonable person expects everyone to know everything.
4- People who can’t tolerate others living in a bubble. “It’s your responsibility to know” they say. Yes, it is, but they’re also well within their rights not to be informed and lead a blissful, ignorant life.
5- Blissful people who live in a bubble of ignorance.
6- People who can’t listen to the other side of an argument or even an opposing opinion. Sean Hannity. He makes my blood boil, sometimes I’ve felt I could drink his. Except for, well, it’s icky Sean Hannity blood. People who can’t listen to others are insecure bullies.
7- Whenever anyone talks about letting their baby “cry it out” or who boasts about putting their newborn on a schedule even though “she cried a lot the first few days”. Why… why why why.
8- Couples who badmouth each other behind their backs and they think I will be OK with criticizing my husband, too. I don’t allow that sort of crap, and it’s especially harmful when it’s done in front of their children.
9- Snooty women who’ve had to make “sacrifices” like cutting manicures to every other week and doing their roots every six weeks instead of four because of the economy. Boo-frickin-hoo, go talk to someone with real problems.
— That’s probably good for now. It’s no good for me to dwell on more than nine annoying things at the same time. —
Oh, Bonus: if I were a teacher the most annoying thing to me would be students grubbing for points. It already annoys me a lot and I don’t even have anything to do with it.
I should probably do a post on what I love about people I meet, just to balance things out.
.. the mice will go off to the store and walk around until the little mouse points at something frantically and does not stop saying “that! that!” until the big mouse gets it down for her and puts her in it.
And so the two mice will struggle along the aisle and look for the best specimen and picking out the right color and they will come home with a
Shiny
New
Red
…
Tricycle!
She picked out the purple one first but I just think a first tricycle should always be red. It’s like a rule.
She’s been riding it since we got home, even though she can’t reach the pedals. There’s a storage compartment in the back where she’s keeping pine cones and cars. It’s one of the funnest, cutest things she’s done so far.
Dave’s on his way to Arizona and I’m staying here with Bug. (Our actual nickname for Styx –> we haven’t called her Styx since before she was born.)
Bug/Styx and I have all kinds of plans for fun things to do while Daddy is gone, but mostly I wish she was a little older so I could stay up late and do her hair over and over again. I’m not much of a girly-girl and I’m certainly not fabulous with hair, but doing her hair seems like it would be a lot of fun.
Before David left he instructed us to do all the things he won’t do, eat all the stuff he won’t eat and watch all the movies he won’t watch. I’m not sure what he thinks we’ll be doing, and I have nothing that I’m dying to do anyway since we have similar tastes. I’m guessing I’ll be going to Costa Vida, since I love it and he is very tired of it.
We’ll stay up late, I’m sure, and go to Farm Country if the weather is nice. We’re also in the process of making a toy out of magnets, wooden animals and cork board. Isn’t that just a little bit interesting?
I told David the other day that I imagine about this time next year I’ll be pregnant.
He was confused. He told me he thought I hated being pregnant.
I do, make no mistake about it. I haven’t changed my mind about how horrible, miserable, and above all SICK pregnancy makes me feel. But I want another child. And more than anything, I want a sister for Styx.
A big chunk of blog-land has followed the story of Stephanie Niels0n and her husband who were in a plane crash last September.. I think? Well, I know them. I know Stephanie and her family. Claire and Jane, her daughters and Page and Courtney and Lucy, her sisters. (I never met Ollie or Gigs or Christian.) I lived in their neighborhood when I was younger. I went to high school with Lucy and their mom was my Sunday school teacher. Their brother was my home teacher. Their grandmother was the most stylish 80 year old woman in the world. Oh, and.. most of them live within a block of each other! Kinda like us and my husband’s family.
Stephanie’s sisters took care of her children while she slept. And now that she’s awake, her sisters are taking care of her. Those three sisters are the closest thing to her there is. (Especially Lucy, who is two years younger but practically identical– no exaggeration.) My sister is the closest thing to me there is.
What if Stephanie didn’t have sisters? What if her mom decided it was too inconvenient and there was never a Lucy? What on Earth would she do without them? What if my daughter needs a sister and I was too lazy to give her one? Very few things scare me, but this does.
She’s getting a sister.
Styx and her cousin are practically siblings
They even share a double stroller
Play with packing peanuts
And get into trouble together
I’m up to my ears in prions and the fatal, progressive diseases they cause, one of which is bovine spongiform encephalopathy. Aka: mad cow. It’s pretty great, but the paper is progressing slowly. We’ve also been planning a cow activity for enrichment which is happening tomorrow night and consists of three parts: cash cow, mad cow and holy cow. You can draw your own conclusions from there.
Yeah, I’m a lucky member of the enrichment committee, which is probably one of the worst of all the callings available since there are fifteen people in the committee and still all the work is done by me and one other person. Suck. Pretty much everyone in there is under the impression that they’re “about to be released because (insert crappy excuse here)”. Like, “my knees are bad” or “I’ve been in there for a whole year!” –> Tell that to my husband who’s been in the EQ presidency for four years and they’ve told him they have no plans to release them any time soon. Talk about time-consuming…
We also get lots of people who “didn’t know” they were in it. “Ok, now you know!” we say. That doesn’t work. “Oh, I will call the president and talk to her, I don’t think I’m supposed to be”… and that’s the last time they answer your phone call.
Then there’s the worst kind, the kind that say they’ll do things and then fail to do them. That’s worse than blowing me off. If you say no then I can do it. If you say yes intending not to do it, that makes my life unnecessarily complicated because I end up doing it anyway but rushed, badly and super pissed off at you.
Come to think of it all these people could be considered cows, too.
Anyway, if it wasn’t for the need to work with all these people I think I would love this calling. As it is, I like it. It’s fun to come up with the ideas and it’s fun when you see people enjoy themselves at something you planned.
So we have this cow thing, and I have this cow paper, and Styx can now say moo! No doubt due to the complete immersion in all-things bovine. She has a stuffed cow and she plays Eskimo kisses with it.
Next week should be considerably less cow-ey.
