Potty Patience

Some would agree that I have very little patience to begin with. I have not an ounce of it for potty-training. On the one hand, I do want my little girl to stay a little baby. Makes for easier trips because she can just go in her diaper and we can change her at the next stop or when we get to our final destination. The "I-wanna-go-pee-pee" or "I-wanna-go-poo-poo" as her ploy to not nap or go to bed just wears out my soul. I'm half tempted to just let her go naked around the house as some parents have done over a weekend-crash-course to have their child go potty. That might make it a bit difficult to be social, but if that would do the the trick, I'd certainly try it. I even thought the reward of m&ms would work, but not as successfully as I'd hoped. She clearly knows when she has to go, but is still in control of what she wants to or not do. Can I be upset at her for standing up for what she wants to do?

During the weekdays when I'm at work and handling other issues, not worrying so much about my children, I have the reprieve of not having to think of tactics that will help out this situation. At home on the weekends, when the weather is not as pleasant to go outside, or we're all tired of watching Backyardigans for the 15th time, the thoughts of finding ways to endure potty patience can be quite consuming.

I'll continue reading on other successful ways to potty and just have to count to a thousand, take deep breaths when she sits idly on the toilet, batting her lashes and flashes her smile, squirms and states so defiantly, "I'm done," when nothing has come out.

Plan to Unplan

There's no planning for things that may go awry. Like when your baby spits up on you right after you have completely gotten ready for work and you are already 10 minutes late. Or when it's raining outside and you've forgotten your umbrella in the car or in the office, and you are at one of those locations without it. Today I learned that with as much anticipation and planning that I had waiting for my husband to fly home, that just didn't happen. I can be thankful that the flight was cancelled without him knowing until he arrived at the airport - and the reason for the cancellation was that the plane had mechanical errors thereby saving his life, but it still made me sad that we had to wait one more day.

All of the anticipation and planning that we had in our heads, with our little girl waking up in the best mood knowing that her daddy would be home that night, and me not putting anything out for dinner! Good thing I was able to whip up some kielbasa with peppers and mushrooms for a quick and dirty meal.

When your plans don't go the way that you had hoped they would, just remember that there may be a perfectly good reason for that. I can definitely count my blessings, for when the spit up comes a-spewing, I'll just change to another shirt or outfit and be late. No sense in having another plan fall through when this unplanned activity was just the thing to give you the right pause to plan your next steps.

When it rains

Downpours can usually describe the way that life works. One thing happens after another and by the end of it all, you just scratch your head and wonder, why me? Thankfully, the downpours for me are things that I can handle - in bits and pieces - not quite all at once - and with a sense of stick-to-it-ness.

Last night I had the genuine fun of burning out our water heater. Granted, the thing has been acting a bit fishy lately...we'd turn on the hot water and it would be scalding hot and then a few days later, no hot water whatsoever. Come to find out the electrical system was all jacked up inside from a drip (poor initial installation when this house was built), and that just about compounded the thermostat issue.

A few months before this, my husband accidentally turned on the microwave with nothing in it, thereby cooking the ring and exploding the glass plate within. I also recently turned on our stove to bake something to find that a greasy drip had made its way to the burning element and caught fire. Maybe it's the pyro-streak in me that thought some of this was funny. But if you think about it, all of these things could have been torrential downpours.

With proper rain gear and boots in tow, I think anyone can handle just about any monsoon. At least in smaller doses. You can easily get so wound up with everything coming at you at once, and not seeing the big picture. In reality, these are all small things that can amount to big things - if we let them get that way. I just see these situations as little droplets of problems that can be cupped in the hand, or if you wish, caught with your mouth wide open, and shifted, re-directed or just to let fall where they may. It's only an emergency or serious problem if you make it that way, right?

The sun does shine, just about every day, and even if it doesn't for one day, it's certainly not the end of it.

Simplest Things

The simplest things can warm the heart and make a child giggle like no tomorrow. Life is complicated enough and I aim to simplify as much as I can. You don't realize how time really does fly when you add more elements in your life. Whether that's children, a marriage, family, work - the more you add, the less time you have. People would always tell me when you have kids, you'll see just how fast the time goes. I can hardly believe my baby is eight-and-a-half months old, and my little toddler is two-and-a-half, with a spunky attitude and killer smile. Both of their personalities just puts a silly grin on my face and makes my soul ache, and within the blinks of the day-to-day activities, I feel I am missing out on so much.

Today we had some down time to just sit and play. That felt good to just hug and love on them as we ended the day. Don't forget to enjoy those little moments, even if they are few and far between.

Super Mama

Some of us know of these wondrous women who are able to cook, clean and have their kids behave well in public and are almost always nicely dressed and without a grimy spot on their faces. These women are often times what some of us dream to be, for whatever reason, because the idea of being able to do it all is quite glamorous somehow. I think I can blame this on the early days when the moms ran the household and kept the kids in check. When more moms started to work, we were also expected to maintain the high level of sophistication within the household too. We were the well-oiled machine that could withstand the duties of home and work, and often times would not utter a gripe about any of it. So why do we aspire to be the Super Mama? For me, it's a bit of an OCD-complex and the sheer thought of having my own mom be proud of all of the things I can possibly do. How then can we break such a vicious cycle of perfection and quest for being the ultimate mommy machine?

For starters, I can seek out help and kindly accept any offers for assistance. Whether that is babysitting, having a prepared meal, ordering in, sharing with other mamas, or just finding an hour of solace to contemplate absolutely nothing. Realistically, I know that the idea of Super Mama is not achievable because being one requires 24/7 of thinking of everyone else, and I do have a bit of a selfish streak to be so consumed by that. There is not enough time in the day to do it all, so the best thing for me is to tackle what I can and save what I can't for another day.

The last few nights have been a blessing with help from family. The urge to turn on the Super Mama switch was quite strong, but after a long day at the office and two kids who want your undevoted attention, it's better to just be plain ole Mama for a few days. You always have the time to be a mama, and the super part is your kids won't know the difference, nor do they care, if you have the Super switch on or not.

Six days without

No, not that! Well, I suppose sort of. But yesterday marked the beginning of a nearly 144 hours without my hubby. Just dropping him off at the airport was very hard. Thankfully, we had to pick up a coworker on the way to the airport, so that diminished some of the emotions that I know both of us were feeling. We had already expressed our anxiety days before the departure. But as I hugged and kissed him goodbye, I wondered to myself, does it take a bit of absence to really appreciate your spouse?

For more than two years, I've been really spoiled by not having to get up all hours of the night with the kids. He is always the first to hear the cries and whimpers of the kids, and jumps right out of bed to cuddle and love them back to sleep. Often times he would fall asleep with them, inevitably on the couch, and I'd find them sound asleep in the mornings when I would get up to start the day. Even during those first few weeks of their lives, he was right there with diaper changes, spit up duty, catching vomit in hand and cleaning up poops in and out of the tub. I knew when we first dated 18 years ago that this man would be a great dad, but never did I imagine that he would be so phenomenally engrossed and absolutely in love with his children. Something that I truly appreciate and love him for.

This first night went about as I expected, except my patience wore thin as the time kept ticking away. Roo proved that she was still in control of her bowels and insisted that she wanted to do the doo, but did not poop a bit. After battling with her for what seemed like an eternity, she finally agreed to just go to bed and try again tomorrow. Small victory. Then it was time to put Y down. He had a full bottle at his aunt's house an hour earlier and was nice and cozy, comfy with his uncle. Then, I of course had to take both of them home so they could go to bed. He certainly didn't like not being all snuggly with his warm uncle, and made it known on the short three-minute ride home. By the time I plopped him on the ground, with his tear-stained face and wails of disdain, he had fully woken up and was ready to play again. It certainly didn't help that his sister was trying to amuse him by sitting on the toilet and not doing anything but sitting. After another half bottle and 20 minutes of rocking, he finally settled down. I think I had dozed off a couple of times in between the squeaks and rocks of the glider, but I didn't care. Both of them were finally asleep and I even had some time to get the bottles ready for daycare. The last few minutes were spent savoring delicious sugar-free jello before the Lost season finale was under way.

As I enjoyed the jello and settled down on the couch for the marathon television-viewing, I sighed that I didn't have my partner in crime with me to share in the night's crazy activities. We both get a sense of joy out of bathing our kids and tucking them into bed each night. The tag-team effort almost always makes the night a little less frantic, and to be honest, having those extra set of hands pick up where the other left off is quite magical.

I'm truly counting down the hours that he'll be home, joining in the nightly rituals that have become the D and triple B's (dinner, bed, bath and bottles). Almost sounds like a strange restaurant slash bed and bath kinda store, but the real weirdness is not having him here with me.

Oh the reality

Many weeks ago when the hubby asked me if he could attend a training session across the country, I thought to myself, this is doable right? Two kiddies - one of which wants to potty train, but doesn't really, and the other an eight-month-teething little drooler who apparently only likes mommy now. I figured, this was a good idea in my head. He needed the training and the new technology would be great for him and the company he worked for. I thought, really, I could handle it. Women and men do this all the time. One spouse travels for business and the other stays home and manages the household and takes car of the kids. Even a recent article in Parent magazine made me believe I could do what that author did, which was to go toe-to-toe with the everyday moments of balancing a full-time job with the craziness of taking care of the kids too. Oh, and then the reality set in.

Granted, I knew that I would miss him terribly, as this was truly the second trip we have not taken together. The first was a trek he made with his brother through a national forest where no cell phone would reach him and I had to make do with the thought that my survivor-man would indeed survive. Little did I realize that they were searching for the Atlanta-bomber in the same area, and later I would find that the FBI was also in the same forest he was in...

Managing a household is one thing, and then being the parent of two rambunctious kids is entirely another. You never know where the crawler will follow, or whether your rebel toddler will fight with you to go to bed and potty and eat and get her carseat. The list is endless, but when you take the child out of her norm, she doesn't like it. So not having daddy was a bit out of her norm, but I really think she was just standing up for what she wanted. I guess I can't be too upset about that.

The jury is still out, but I am quite grateful for my sister who came over to be my extra set of hands for bathy time and I'm looking forward to the next few days of unknown realities that will surely make for long nights. The best I can do is believe that anything is possible, and take one thing at a time. There's something to be said about single parents who do this day-in, day-out without a sliver of help from anyone. They manage to do it, and raise children who are loving, respectful and quite normal. To those who do this each and every day with little praise and much burden, I say you are amazing in all that you do.

You are not alone

From the moment you find out you are pregnant and you realize that your life will change (understatement), there's one thing that you don't really embrace until the life inside your womb starts to communicate with you. The feeling of "alone" starts to dissipate slowly as you see your baby bump grow and you nurture the body and soul for this new being. From the wiggles and kicks, to the hiccups and heartburn, you know and feel that you are the vessel for something that has not formulated opinions, or has likes and dislikes (well, sort of - just eat a spicey meal and you'll know whether baby is agreeable)...a tiny little soul who does not know the rights from the wrongs, but is just happy to know and see you.

For every moment of each day, you are responsible for this creature that God bestowed upon you to care for. Granted, in my pregnancy days, I did take for granted how much easier it was to be pregnant rather than being a parent. When you are carrying a baby, you don't have to concern yourself with packing up the house with diapers, wipes, food, bottles, etc., just to go out for the day. Your little packaged belly rides along with you and the need for an extra set of clothes, burp cloths, and toys just don't come into play - yet.

Outside of the womb, it becomes very apparent how often you are not alone. Your little one needs you for any number of things, and you happily oblige, even if it's to be repeated over and over again.

Some days, the workweek is considered my "alone" time. It's where I sort of turn off the parent brain and focus on what needs to be done for the day - in an office, with colleagues and an inanimate computer. But really, even there, are you really alone?

Today I had an interesting conversation with a friend who struggles with her alone time. She's a wonderful artist, and a parent, but is having a hard time enjoying her creativity as she struggles with her balance of parenthood and professionalism. No one ever said this was going to be an easy road. For those of you who thought it and are doing it well, kudos to you. I admittedly, even being as OCD as I am, understand how hard it is to have your alone time and eat it too. But if there's one thing that I'm learning each day is that you must find your alone time, if even for five minutes, to be able to embrace all that life throws at you.

My mom, who can be considered saintly as she birthed nine of us, said that the most important thing you can do as a parent is to take care of you first. Have your alone time and basque in those precious moments. For if you are not right and well, there's no way you can do right for your family.

I'm grateful to not be alone and should probably seek out more opportunities to not be so consumed with the day-to-day must-do's. But that would require another lifetime that is eating up my alone time now.

So it begins

After an inspiring day with Miss Attitude and networking with PR guys and gals at the Capital Chapter, I decided it was time to put keystrokes and thoughts into a blog.

Who Way may you ask? Those who know the phonetic pronunciation of my first name will get a kick out of the name of this blog. Those who may not, can learn that Who Way is an individual who is eager to share thoughts on the daily challenges of working full time, being a parent, maid, chef, nurse/doctor, oh, and yes wife.

The alarm sounded off early this morning before 5 a.m. when my two-year-old toddler decided she wanted out of her crib and cried for a drink of milk. I explained drowsily that it was still night time and she needed to get back to sleep. Not fully convinced of this news, she stood up and I scooped her up and brought our sleepy eyes to my bed. The baby had already been up and was sleeping soundly with his daddy on the couch - an all-too-familiar place that daddy has practically lived in for more than two years.

The rest of the day was filled with fun learning, professional development and just gabbing it up with fellow communications minds. Oh and then there was that thing called work that had to be taken care of ... back to the office for the 70 unread e-mails and a press release that was getting nowhere. To top off the day, no release was sent and an event that was planned for this coming Monday was slowly coming together. So how do I go about printing out massive posters when we don't have access to a printing machine large enough to handle it, and rely on the sole graphic designer for the entire agency? That's to be determined on Friday.

Now that the kids are asleep and the bottles have been made, I decide what better time than to get "caught up." That is laundry, dishes and the guilty pleasures of Facebook, Twitter and my beloved Noles.

And so it begins my friends!