The one where I brag shamelessly about my kids
Sorry for the service interruption this week. First I had a virus, then I gave it to my computer. Actually, neither of us had a virus, we were both just a little cantankerous and out of commission for a while.
But we're back!
So, how've you been? As the first official Potty Week draws to a close, I am happy to report that Tristan has gone TWO DAYS without an accident. (pause for ovation) He is just two potty trips short of earning his metal Thomas and Annie and Clarabel, and we are all amazed that he seems to be at least superficially potty trained. We have a few more tricks to learn, like using public washrooms (when we tried the other night at Harvey's, he kept wiggling off the seat and saying, "It's not like home!") and I'm not confident enough yet to leave him diaperless overnight. But we're getting there.
My babies are all grown up! Even Simon has been growing exponentially this week, and now insists on having his food in a bowl or plate, and eating with a fork. And damn, he's clever! (she said, completely lacking in bias) Tristan and I were in the bathroom washing our hands after a potty event, and I was enthusing that he had just earned two more stickers and would soon get his metal Thomas and Annie and Clarabel when Simon came in. He had gone into the train bag and pulled out Annie and Clarabel (the wooden versions) to bring to Tristan. He walked over to Tristan as Tristan was drying his hands and handed him the trains - he had been following our conversation, and understood that somehow Tristan going to the potty and him getting Annie and Clarabel were linked. And he knew which trains, of the several dozen that inhabit our dining room, were Annie and Clarabel. I was stunned!
And more progress, if you can stand it - Tristan started riding a big-boy bike this week, too! My dad found a bike with training wheels at garage sale a week or so ago for $15 and picked it up for Tristan. It's just a shade too big for him, but by next spring it will be just right. We started letting him ride around the driveway on the weekend, and for fun thought we'd let him ride down to the mailboxes on the corner. We kept right on going, and he had gone around the block in no time, and with no difficulties (on his part; I nearly had organ failure running to keep up with him on the downhill bits while dragging Simon in the wagon behind me.) Now every moment Tristan is torn between wanting to play with his trains and wanting to ride his bike around the neighbourhood.
What is it about kids and bikes? I so clearly remember my first bike, or at least the first bike that mattered to me. It was blue with a banana seat and hi-rise handle bars, and had a white woven basket on the handlebars. I had Charlie's Angels stickers, taken from those card packs that came with the flat, stale pink gum, stuck all over the seat.
Do you remember your first bike?
But we're back!
So, how've you been? As the first official Potty Week draws to a close, I am happy to report that Tristan has gone TWO DAYS without an accident. (pause for ovation) He is just two potty trips short of earning his metal Thomas and Annie and Clarabel, and we are all amazed that he seems to be at least superficially potty trained. We have a few more tricks to learn, like using public washrooms (when we tried the other night at Harvey's, he kept wiggling off the seat and saying, "It's not like home!") and I'm not confident enough yet to leave him diaperless overnight. But we're getting there.
My babies are all grown up! Even Simon has been growing exponentially this week, and now insists on having his food in a bowl or plate, and eating with a fork. And damn, he's clever! (she said, completely lacking in bias) Tristan and I were in the bathroom washing our hands after a potty event, and I was enthusing that he had just earned two more stickers and would soon get his metal Thomas and Annie and Clarabel when Simon came in. He had gone into the train bag and pulled out Annie and Clarabel (the wooden versions) to bring to Tristan. He walked over to Tristan as Tristan was drying his hands and handed him the trains - he had been following our conversation, and understood that somehow Tristan going to the potty and him getting Annie and Clarabel were linked. And he knew which trains, of the several dozen that inhabit our dining room, were Annie and Clarabel. I was stunned!
And more progress, if you can stand it - Tristan started riding a big-boy bike this week, too! My dad found a bike with training wheels at garage sale a week or so ago for $15 and picked it up for Tristan. It's just a shade too big for him, but by next spring it will be just right. We started letting him ride around the driveway on the weekend, and for fun thought we'd let him ride down to the mailboxes on the corner. We kept right on going, and he had gone around the block in no time, and with no difficulties (on his part; I nearly had organ failure running to keep up with him on the downhill bits while dragging Simon in the wagon behind me.) Now every moment Tristan is torn between wanting to play with his trains and wanting to ride his bike around the neighbourhood.
What is it about kids and bikes? I so clearly remember my first bike, or at least the first bike that mattered to me. It was blue with a banana seat and hi-rise handle bars, and had a white woven basket on the handlebars. I had Charlie's Angels stickers, taken from those card packs that came with the flat, stale pink gum, stuck all over the seat.
Do you remember your first bike?
Said DaniGirl at 6:38 a.m. #
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