Facebook perfect family

On paper, or Facebook, it can appear that I have the perfect family, perfect children. And I want to clear that up right away.

Nope, no way. Not a freaking chance.

Right before all the food went on the floor

I post pictures and stories of my children because they bring me joy and I know I have family and friends that love watching my girls grow up. I tend to neglect the stories of temper tantrums, sibling rivalry, thrown food, missed milestones, and tears that go on forever. From the girls and me. I refuse to drag my Facebook community through that. I'm sure they have plenty of that in their own lives.

 

My kids both suck their thumbs

But I also don't want anyone to think things here are easy. It has been an incredibly difficult few months. I have yelled at my girls more than I like to admit. My girls have struggled to understand all the change around them. It is so hard when we don't know when, or if, the girls will see daddy every night. Joel spends 2.5 hours in the car every day. We have snapped at each other. We have snapped at the girls.

Some days we are barely holding it together.

The moments that get posted to Facebook make the other moments manageable.

Nora doesn't like when she gets hugs from Annabelle, which doesn't happen that often anyway

My children are about as normal as they come. One step forward, one step back. Huge accomplishments, big setbacks.

My parenting is about as normal as it comes. I don't read parenting books. I don't always remember to pray for them, with them, or before meals. My discipline can be inconsistent. Right now, the girls are watching Netflix.

The bright light they're staring at was playing princess movies

I have always promised to be honest with my parenting. That is what my mom taught me. It is okay to say sorry. I have a feeling I will be saying that to my girls for the rest of their lives. And that is good news. I want to be the perfect parent, the perfect family. But the reality is I am not, and we are not, and that is a heavy burden that I don't want to bear.

Instead, my girls will learn that perfection isn't possible or necessary.

So, Facebook friends and family, please don't ever assume that we have anything figured out. We love our girls to the best of our ability in the moment we are in. And we pray for grace upon grace.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Potty Training

Let's be clear about 2 things from the beginning. I do not claim to be an expert on potty training, and my daughter has always proven to transition well. I can not take credit for that.

With those things out of the way, here's my story.

I had a baby. Well, 2, but that's beside the point. When my oldest was 19 months, my youngest was born. At that time it seemed like all of my oldest's friends' moms were beginning to talk about potty training...at 19 months! I stated firmly and repeatedly, "I'm just not ready for that and neither is she". Okay, mostly I wasn't ready to take her to the bathroom every 30 minutes while trying to feed the other one every 2 hours.

So, the extent of our potty training came down to buying her a potty (around 18 months) and putting it where she could see it in the bathroom. (I did stash some Elmo underpants away, just in case). Over the next year, she peed in it a couple times and pooped once...all mostly by accident. We were determined not to potty train until we felt like she was truly ready (helpful advice from a very wise lady I like to call "mom").

About the time the baby was 9 months old, my husband took a new job about an hour and 15 minutes away and began commuting while we attempted to sell our house.

Our house sold (thank God) and with no house on the horizon, we began to pack up for a move to my father-in-law's house. That is conversation for another day.

One evening, my daughter was asking a lot of questions about the potty. She clearly knew what it was for, but was unsure about it's exact place in her life. The next morning I woke up with a vague thought to potty train her. And so it happened, as it often does in my life, that the day had arrived.

I had heard stories of friends potty training their kids and was not looking forward to it. I had also heard of just putting them in underpants and letting her guide the process. Seeing as how I don't like charts and anything very difficult, and I only had 3 days before our house was to be overcome by boxes, I determined to do it.

When she woke up, I surprised her with her new underpants and off we went. We had wood floors, a bucket full of towels, and blind-stupidity. And somehow, it worked! I spent the first day and a half following her around with a stopwatch and the potty. After only a few accidents, I realized she got it. The stopwatch became a source of contention, so I let it go. After that, I did remind her often, but didn't force her to sit down unless we needed to go somewhere (which we didn't do for 3 days) or she was walking around on tiptoes (her tell-tale sign she needed to go).

Yes, we had pee on the floor. Yes, we had poop in the underwear. But since we started, I can count the number of times this happened on my hands.

She was ready, even though she never said so. I just knew my kid well enough to know that she was smart enough to get it.

It was definitely not easy. She is still in pull-ups at nap and bedtime (and I have no thoughts as to when we will begin to phase that out, but I'm hoping to live in my own house by then). Both mom and daughter have had good cries and a few meltodowns (yes, both of us). But, it is done.

And, as often her around our house, "Annabelle, do you need to go potty?".

Her favorite response, "Nope, not quite yet."