Roller Coaster Ride

Potty training, to anyone who's done it, is like a four-letter word. Parents around the world will routinely tell you that it's one of the hardest times to weather with a child. Well, at least the ones in places with indoor plumbing will. However, it is an inevitability that all toddlers must learn to use the toilet for their business, so we suffer through something that we'd certainly choose to avoid if the choice was ours. Which brings us to our story of the day.

While it wasn't widely advertised (mostly because the Rescue Pack was funnier), one of the gifts Lily asked Santa for this year was some big-girl panties. The big guy came through, of course, with Dora The Explorer panties in her stocking Christmas morning. We have not forced the issue of making the transition to the potty because, frankly, it's so damned hard. If she's content to use the pull-ups, we're content to keep buying them. This morning, however, the tables turned. When I got Lily up and went to change her, she boldly said "No Daddy, I don't want a pull-up. I want to wear my Dora panties!" Because EVERYONE has told me that "when they're ready, they'll go", I took this as a positive sign. Maybe she just figured it out . . the kid figures out everything else she sets her mind to, why would this be any different? So I nervously put the panties on her after a successful trip to the bathroom and made sure to pair them with a really old pair of pants. I reminded her at least a half dozen times before her breakfast was even on the table to let me know if she had to go potty, and she assured me she'd comply. "I will Daddy!"

She made it through her egg and yogurt and was happily watching TV in the living room when the first outburst of the morning came, and I knew immediately that she'd wet herself. No worries, we'll just change pants and charge forward. Then the second accident happened, not 15 minutes later. Was this a pattern I should continue to expect? Will her needs to relieve herself come back-to-back like this? The engineer in me was hard at work trying to figure out the kid's formula. A while passed before we decided to leave the house, and I wanted to head off any potential carseat disasters. We went to the bathroom and there it was, our first successful pee-pee of the day! We high-fived and headed out the door to Target to buy some back-up panties . . after all, we were on the last clean pair and she was wetting them faster than I could wash them! I wasn't going to sabatoge a day I'd resigned to spend potty training by running out of panties for the kid to wear. So we hustled down the road, raced in to Target from the parking lot and made a bee line for the restroom. YES!!! She made it there and she went to the potty! I felt like we were gonna win this battle! We went and picked out some Cinderella panties to supplement the Dora ones. We hurried outta there, hauled butt home and had another successful potty right after pulling in to the driveway.

Our next trip of the day was to return some library books we'd let go all the way to their due date. We tried to potty before we left but with no results, so I put a dishtowel down in the carseat (at Mandi's recommendation) and we ventured out again. When we arrived we went into the kids area so Lil could get a look at the mice, gerbils, and fish they keep there for entertainment. She also wanted to play a little bit, but I was getting nervous about the length of time between trips to the bathroom. As I picked her up to take her she threw a major hissy fit, which of course seemed as loud as a semi truck going through a tunnel at full throttle because of the relative silence of the library. I figured she'd rebel in the bathroom, but much to my surprise she went pee-pee and her mood turned around . . momentarily. I think the mental stress started getting to her a little as we looked for my book, because she just started freaking out and yelling for no reason right in the middle of the non-fiction section. We scurried out without the book but with dry panties intact. Lily sobbed most of the way home, stopping only occasionally to ask "Daddy, you're not strustrated?" "Yeah Lil, I am frustrated, but just a little bit."

The "off" mood Lil had gotten into at the library remained through lunch, and I decided on an early nap time. We tried to potty once before bed but got nothing, so I put a pull-up on her and put her to sleep. The usual length for a nap these days is just shy of two hours, so when two and a half ticked by and I hadn't heard a peep I figured she'd definitely be wet when she woke up. I ran up to get her as soon as I heard her call, and I was ecstatic to find her completely dry! We hustled to the bathroom and she went like a champ! Off to a great start for the afternoon we headed downstairs to play. Lil wanted to chill out and watch TV, so I checked on her a few times and tried to set her on the potty, but nothing was doing for the next half hour or so. Then came another accident. And another change of clothes. And another accident. And another change of clothes. And in the words of the immortal H.I. McDunnough from Raising Arizona, "that's when the roof caved in." I had just tried to get Lily to potty about 2 minutes before when she came into the kitchen grinning from ear to ear. This can't be good. "I poopy in my panties Daddy!" Sweet. She laid down on the carpet as though it was just another diaper to change. Little did she know she was in for some dangling-over-the-toilet acrobatics. Luckily it was nuggets and the mess was not outrageous . . anything worse and I might have been discouraged from trying again tomorrow. I guess I'll have to keep feeding her a pound of cheese a day until she gets it down, I don't think I can handle one of the peanut-butter ones without an easy-to-remove pull-up or diaper to contain it. So it's 'til tomorrow, when this roller coaster ride will resume and the tales of potty training will surely flow again.

Christmas With The Kids

This Christmas marked a number of firsts for us. It was the first time Mandi and I exchanged gifts with each other. It felt great, albeit strange to spend money "frivolously" on stuff. We had a strict $100 budget.

It was also our first debt-free Christmas. In the past we've paid for gifts with cash, so I'm not talking credit-card debt, but the week before we finished paying off the last of my student loans. Aunt Sallie has officially been kicked out of the spare bedroom, which made this holiday especially memorable.

And of course, it was the first Christmas where Lily really understood what was going on. She'd been dutifully reciting her biggest wish every day leading up . . "I'd better ask Santa for a Rescue Pack." You'd better believe she came tearing around the corner at 6:04 am with one thing on her mind . . "Where's my Rescue Pack?" Actually, it's over there behind the behemoth hundred-dollar toy train set it took Santa over an hour to assemble late the night before which you haven't even noticed yet. No worries . . as long as you're happy.

Avery, as I'm sure you all remember from the iPhone story, took the leap to tech toys this year. Her acquisitions include an MP3 player (pre-loaded with Hannah Montana, of course), an electronic dog that is touch sensitive so it can't be packed in a suitcase, and a working personal ATM machine (complete with card, PIN, and wall-mounting instructions). She also got a learner guitar and some really cute (while not age-inappropriate) new outfits. I think they both were really happy, and at the same time I don't feel like it was an overboard Christmas.

Both girls really surprised and impressed us with their behavior at our various family get-togethers this year. Lily was a little bit out of control at PF Chang's for Maw Maw's birthday celebration, but she's never been particularly good at restaurants in the past, so there was no real high expectation going in to this one. As far as I'm concerned, she didn't knock the table over and nothing was spilled on anyone. That's a victory. Christmas Eve we did our traditional Gift Exchange party at Maw Maw's house. Most of the kids are old enough at this point that the stress level wasn't as elevated as in years past. By the time we were ready to do the grown-ups part of the party most of the kids were up past their bed times, so the exchange was quick and painless. Not a lot of gift-stealing and drama this year (which may have had as much to do with the lack of interesting gifts), just git 'er done and get the heck outta there.

After opening gifts at home Christmas morning we headed over to Grandma and Grandpa's house to spend time with that gang. Lunch preceded gifts this time, which was another exercise in patience for the kids. The gift that was the biggest hit that round was the 2-pound bag of Jelly Belly's that Mandi gave her Dad. The girls had Grandpa wrapped around their little fingers as he merrily passed out candy to the begging hoard! We got outside for a little while to enjoy the brief spell of good weather. Grandpa indulged the girls on the porch swing while Grandma pulled the others around the yard in Taylor's new wagon. Then Mandi was off to work at 3 and Daddy headed home with the girls to wind down from a long weekend and enjoy some snuggle time. Overall, this one goes down as one of the most memorable and enjoyable Christmas' yet. I hope everyone else had a very Happy Holiday!

2008 Will Be My Big Year

In the world of birdwatching, upon the fringes of which I reside, there's a popular term known simply as the "Big Year". The idea, without getting too in-depth, is to record the name of every species of bird one encounters in a calendar year. There are also Big Days (you do the math), but the prospects of spending from 3am to 11pm hunting for wild birds seems a bit out of reach for a guy like me with family obligations and such. In hindsight, 2007 probably would have been a better choice for me to embark on this quest, given the variety of travel we did. There are at least 15 species I can recall from St. John alone that I have no chance of seeing again this year (Bananaquit, Zenaida Dove, etc.) Add to that the Ding Darling NWR in Sanibel, FL and the total I'm unlikely to see again in 2008 easily rises above 30. But with each new year comes an increasing interest in birding, and the Big Year idea will be my chance to really quantify how much I've learned and evaluate my identification skills. Currently I rely heavily on my equipment to help me identify the species I encounter, as time is usually not long and I can't spend the time it takes in the field to identify what I see. But that's the beauty of technology. A good telephoto lens and a high-resolution camera allow you to do the thinking inside the house, leaving outdoor time free to spend hunting.

So for now, that's the plan. Starting January 1st, I will list every species I can positively identify on the side of the blog, and once a week (or so) I'll recount the experiences and locations of the birds. My goal, while modest, will be to record 150 species in 2008. I'll most certainly re-evaluate that goal a few times depending on what our travel plans look like, etc. The more different places we can visit, the better my chances of hitting or exceeding that goal. I'll also try to include as many photos as possible of the more unusual sightings, just for good measure. Wish me luck!

The Great Candy Debate

Yesterday marked what seems like the eleventy-millionth time I've had to address the issue of too much candy with Avery. I can't remember when it started . . maybe around Halloween . . but the kid is OBSESSED with candy. We made a 2-piece of candy per day rule in order to try to "be fair", but that just caused her to hide extra candy under her bed and eat it at will when she was up in her room. Then, just as that stash ran down December rolled around and the Advent Trees went up. These, if you're not familiar, are quilted trees with a piece of candy tied on for each day in December before Christmas. It's a tradition we had when we were kids growing up and that I don't remember ever being the highlight of our day the way they are with my girls. But what do I know?

Anyway, I'm not even sure how it came up but yesterday Ave let it slip that she had some candy hidden under her bed. I was busy keeping Lily away from the presents under the tree at the time, so it almost slipped past me completely, but when I realized what she'd said I kind of flipped out a little bit. Apparently her teacher had sent her home with a little bag full of candy after school today and she didn't want to give it up. I can understand that, but she knows about the 2-piece per day rule, and she knows how I feel about her hiding things from us. Was I wrong to be upset? I have been telling Avery for almost a month now that her obsession with candy and sweets is disturbing to me, and that after the Advent Tree was finished there wasn't going to be any candy kept in the house. Her dental work is already costing us a fortune and I don't in any way think that saying "no" to candy is unreasonable.

The fight comes from Mandi, who thinks that being too strict about it is going to lead to eating disorders and rebellious eating habits when Ave gets to be old enough to choose and pay for her own meals. Simply, zero candy = resentment = I'll get you back some day = obsessed about food = bulemia = anorexia nervosa = 83 pounds at 18 years old = heroin addict who purges 4 times a day in the McDonalds parking lot. I personally have a hard time going down that slippery slope. I think kids need to be told the ancient word every now and then and get over the idea that they're entitled to have whatever the hell they want. The ancient word? NO! We don't allow weapons . . is she going to become a serial killer to spite us? We don't allow skanky (read: typical) clothes . . will she become a stripper? I really don't think so. We are the parents, you are the child, you need to live with the fact that the rules aren't always going to be liked. Am I really far off base? I feel like by not punishing her for the deceit by tightening the restrictions we're giving her the green light to circumvent the guidelines in the future. Mandi says "I'd rather not fight about food because I don't want it to be an issue." I say candy is not food. I've tried to stop fighting with Ave about her choice to not eat whatever meals are put in front of her. I concede that it's her problem if she's hungry, we try to offer healthy snacks, and I make sure her lunches are big and full of things I know she'll eat. So I feel like on the subject of junk, like candy, I'm being reasonable to have "strict" restrictions. Or is it really possible that something like this can cause lead to lashing out and rebelling down the road? I'd like some honest comments and feedback about this. I can handle being wrong about it, but I'm going to have to be convinced.

I Am A Celebrity!

That's right, mark it down on your calendar, today's the day my true celebrity status was realized! We went to Avery's school around 11:30, planning just to have lunch with her on this the last day before Christmas break (ughhh). We got to the classroom a minute or two before they came out, dropped the teacher's gift off and followed the line into the Cafetorium (come on, you can figure it out). So as we walk in I'm immediately mobbed by a throng of adoring second graders, every one of them screaming and looking all googley-eyed as I walked through the room. Mandi was thrown out of the way and almost hit her head on a wayward trash can, and Lily got trampled and had to go to the nurse's office. Avery, meanwhile, was trying to run interference and restore order to the scene, very deliberately lining up the adoring masses and quickly setting up an impromptu autograph table near the front of the room. A large contingent of teachers came by to . . . aww, who am I kidding, nobody's buying this anymore. Sorry, that was a fun little fantasy to play out.

The real story is that 2 or 3 of Avery's teammates from The Green Dragons came over from across the room when they saw us to say hello, and Mandi was giving me a hard time about being such a celebrity among the 7 year olds. I told her I'd gladly take that until my career as a well-known blogger-slash-birdwatcher took off, at which time I'd have to eschew my elementary school fans for a little older crowd. I'll let you know when that starts happening . .

Recipes, etc.

Hello everyone, sorry for the long layoff. Christmas shopping, as I'm sure you all know, is extraordinarily time consuming, especially when you're male and are essentially clueless when it comes to the subject. I'm a very good list maker and checker-offer, but writing an item on a list does not equate to being able to find it in a mad house, er, mall at Christmas time. So it's not that there hasn't been anything interesting to post about, just that the 27 hour day hasn't been invented yet.

On the bright side, Mandi did the meal plan for the last two weeks (and usurped my grocery store trip Tuesday . . grrr), and she picked out some really good new recipes for us to try. I spent this afternoon adding a few of them to the Recipe List , so if you're struggling for meal ideas maybe give them a try. My favorite of the bunch was undoubtedly the Farfalle with Sausage, Cannellini Beans, and Kale. It was the first time I'd ever cooked with kale, and it definitely didn't disappoint. The Beef, Black Bean, and Chorizo Chili was also very good, although we replaced the chorizo with turkey-Andouille sausage. The result was not quite as spicy as it would have been, but certainly spicy enough and a lot lower in fat. Win-win there, and it made enough to freeze leftovers.

As for Phillip (a.k.a. "The Cat"), still no sign of him. He has not surfaced in either of the local Vet's offices or at the county animal shelter, but he also hasn't been scratching at the back door. I had hoped that the big increase in the number of birds in the back yard would lure him back, but so far it hasn't. At over 10 days missing, I'm certainly beyond any expectation (although not hope) that he'll ever be back. The last time he was out of the house he showed up at the back door after an hour, belly full of grass and more than ready to find a warm blanket or piece of upholstered furniture to curl up on. He'll certainly have his pick if he decides to return.

And in the last (and most exciting) piece of news from the last few days . . . drumroll please . . drumroll . . WE'RE DEBT FREE!!!!! We sent the last payment out Tuesday for my student loans, leaving our mortgage as the only debt we have left. We have spent the last 4 or 5 years "Living like no one else", so that someday we might be able to "Live like no one else". Our lifestyle of frugality and sacrifice has paid dividends this week, and it's an awesome feeling. To everyone who's heard me talk about it at one point or another, I urge you to get started RIGHT NOW! The feeling of freedom you'll feel when your money finally starts working for you (instead of you working for your money) is incredible! Imagine yourself, much like Mel Gibson did in Braveheart, screaming FREEDOM! at the top of your lungs as you send in that last payment, and you'll start to understand the feeling it created for us. Good luck if you get on board, it's a great New Year's resolution (even though I am against the general notion of resolutions). But that's a different post . .

Dealing With Loss

I have been avoiding writing about this until now for a couple of different reasons. First and foremost, I don't really want to concede that it's real. I guess I've got a mild case of Ostrich Syndrome . . or is it Flamingos that put their head in the sand? Either way, if I continue my nonchalance and naivete I can avoid dealing with my true emotions. Truth be told, the veneer is starting to wear thin.

The second reason I've avoided the subject is that I really don't like the thought of assigning blame for accidents. Sure, someone's responsible, but malice is conspicuously absent. Nonetheless, because of the depth of the emotional wound left there will no doubt be resentment and grudge holding, at least on a private level. My hope is that this remains in the correct perspective and isn't allowed to damage friendships that, as humans, should be more important than pets.

But the fact remains that a very dear member of our family is missing, and the likelihood that we'll ever see him again grows considerably slimmer by the hour. I got Phillip 10 years ago in Nashville. I adopted him and his brother, Terrence, from a woman who had raised them for their first year but could no longer keep them. I paid $100 for their 1-year shots, signed the papers and left that vet's office with two great cats. We spent a few days trying to come up with names for our new cats, and we finally settled on Terrence and Phillip. We gleaned the idea from the TV show South Park, the offensive and controversial adult cartoon that had just been launched on Comedy Central within the last year or so. Terrence and Phillip were the gassy twin bobble-headed Canadians on the show who became pop-culture icons, if only for a short period of time, due to their slap-sticky and crass brand of humor and music. If nothing else, the choice of names imparted a little personality to two otherwise un-interesting and low maintenance cats. And it gave them permanence in the family.

The cats moved with me to Miami for my short stint there and then made the long journey to Charlotte when I moved here in 2002. Two small apartments in a row proved to be too much for Terrence to handle, as he escaped from captivity later that year and was never seen again. We replaced Phillip's companion as best we could a couple of times, with the most recent addition to the family being a mom and daughter pair given to us by a good friend. The three have seemed happy together, with each having a distinct role in their relationships with each other, as well as having very happy niches among the humans. Girl, the mommy cat, is my little attention whore. Every time my lap appears, she's clammoring for a seat on it. And she isn't shy about it, either. She would routinely shove Phillip out of the way if she wanted some lovin'. Cheeks, the "baby", has always been shy. Her human companion of choice is Avery, which is not a surprise at all given her generally gentle nature. Avery's content to see but not touch the cats, and that's just how Cheeks prefers it.

And as much as I hate to admit it, Phillip was a Mama's boy. As much history and connection as I had with him, he always had a soft spot in his heart for Mandi. When she was pregnant with Lily, Phillip would eschew his normal spot on my side of the bed at night for his post near her belly. As though he could sense the growing baby inside, he'd curl up next to Mandi to offer his warmth and protection. He was a part of our family in so many ways that it's hard to imagine what it'll be like around here without him. Lily has gone with me on a few outings to look around the neighborhood for him. Last night before bed she asked me "Where'd Phillip go Daddy? He ran away?" I told her we'd look again in the morning. When she got up this morning, the first thing she told me after our good morning hug was "I dream about Phillip Daddy." I'd be lying to you if I said that didn't bring a few tears to my eyes.

So we'll go out again today and look, maybe hand out a few more flyers, and try again to delay finality.