potty woes

I've decided to potty train Leo. I know it might seem like it's a little late. I'm sure most of the kids you know were happily pooping and peeing away like big kids by the time they were three but Leo and I got stuck somewhere in a world of extremely appealing pull-ups emblazoned with Lightning McQueen. Don't get me wrong, Leo is a very smart three year old but the potty just seemed to daunt us both. Anyway, no more! For the past week, we've been diving in to the process (not the potty) headfirst.

Hmm...potty traing with a newborn in the house. You know, this might not be my brightest judgement call. Typical moments are something like this.

"Mummy, can I have a car?"

"Leo, you have enough cars. Look at all your cars."

I look around the living room and it's littered with cars. I'm sitting on the couch full of little hot wheels breastfeeding Russell. Russell is going through a three week growth spurt. I'm always feeding Russell.

"Mummy, if I go pee and poo on the potty will you get me a new car?"

"Yes, Leo, if you go pee and poo on the potty I will get you a new car."

Now, I know this is shameless bribery but I'm not thinking straight at this point. I can hear things happening in Russell's diaper. Big things. Very, very big things. And now there is something warm and wet on the hand that is holding Russell's bum. Something has leaked out of the side of his diaper. A very, very big something.

"Okay mummy, I can go pee and poo on the potty now."

Oh god, it's poo. The something is poo. Liquid, golden brown breastmilk poo is all over my hand and spreading onto my pants. My pants are soaked through. There is poo all over my thigh.

"Mummy, I want to go pee and poo on the potty now."

I try to move Russell with my clean hand but the poo is everywhere. It's all over the legs of his suit. I can see poo stains all up his back. Please, don't let it be on the couch. What is that dark, wet mark on the couch?

"MUMMY, I WANT TO GO PEE AND POO ON THE POTTY RIGHT NOW!"

"Okay, Leo, we'll go to the potty very soon."

Frantically, I search for some wipes. I vaguely remember grabbing a package from the upstairs bathroom and putting them into a backpack for our hike last weekend. I sprint to the hallway, see the backpack and rush back to Russell who's happily rolling around in his own feces on my living room floor.

"MUMMY! POTTY! RIGHT NOW!"

I'm sweating by this point, stripping Russell, rubbing my hand, rubbing Russell, rubbing my hand again. I many never get all of this poo under control.

"MUMMY! I WANT TO POOOOOOOOO!"

Russell is clean. His suit may never be the same but he is clean and my floor is clean. I'm not sure about the couch. I wash my hands.

"Leo, do you want to go up to the potty now?"

"No. In a little while."

"But, Leo, you said you wanted to use the potty."

"Not now."

"Leo, I will buy you a new car if you go pee and poo on the potty."

"No, but, I have enough cars."

Let's fast forward an hour and a half to the point where I do actually get him onto the potty. Russell is settled and dry and sleeping in his crib and Leo and I are in the upstairs bathroom. I'm on the floor. He's on the potty.

"Do you feel like you need to pee, Leo?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, you can pee."

"I am peeing, Mummy."

I check the potty. No pee. Nothing. Totally dry. What is that grungy patch over in the corner? Man, I should really bleach this thing.

"Okay, Leo, try to poo instead. Push it out of your bum."

"Mummy, you should read me a story. Then I will go poo."

One pop up version of Little Red Riding Hood and lots of encouragement later, still no poo.

"Mummy, you should read me another story. Then I will go poo."

I can hear Russell beginning to stir. I'd better pick a short story. One quick read through of Dinosaur Train later, still no poo.

"Maybe you don't need to poo, Leo? Maybe you're finished now?" I don't think Russell is going to last much longer.

"No, I'm not finished yet." Poor Russell.

"Mummy, you should read me another story and I'll go poo. I'll pick the story."

"Okay, Leo, you go pick the story. I'm going to go check on Russell."

Russell is moving around in his crib and grizzling a lot. I avoid his eyes and creep back to the bathroom hoping he didn't notice me. On the way, I notice that Leo has stopped and is standing in the middle of his room with a blank look on his face.

"What are you doing, Leo?"

"I'm peeing."

Oh please no. What is that dark wet patch on the floor? Hmm, What does pee do to hardwood?

Aaaah! I get him back to the potty quickly. Then I see the book in his hand. It's Richard Scarry. I takes an hour to read Richard Scarry, even at the best of times.

"You should read me this story, Mummy. Then I will go poo on the potty."

Okay, I'm reading three pages. No More! Three pages and that's it...hey...what's that smell?

"Leo, did you go poo on the potty?"

"Yes." He grunts, all red in the face.

Hooray! Success! Yay...it's taking a long time...wow, this is one big poo. This is the longest poo of his little life. Okay, whew, I think he's done.

"Are you all done, buddy?"

"Yes. Now can I have a car?"

I check the potty. The poo is colossal. It fills the bowl. Bits of it are clinging to his legs. They should really make potties a lot bigger than they do. I search frantically for some wipes. Vaguely, I remember throwing the wipes from the upstairs bathroom into the backpack...downstairs. And Russell is no longer just grizzling. It's a full on scream.

"Mummy, why is there poo on my shirt?

Let's skip forward again to a happier place. Both kids are clean and dry. My hardwood is clean and dry. The potty is clean and dry. I'm not sure about the couch. We're all set to go out. Russell is snuggled into the sling and Leo has managed to put his shoes on the right feet.

"Are we going to get a car now, Mummy?"

"Yes, Leo, we're going to get a car."

"A new car?"

"Yes, Leo."

"Did I go poo on the potty, Mummy?"

"Yes, Leo."

"Are we going right now, Mummy?"

"Yes, Leo."

I find my keys and grab my sunglasses, totally in control, even remembering that I need to pick up some more wipes while I'm out... And then the dog throws up.

A Win and a Loss

Aidan's soccer team won their championship game today. They were undefeated all season. Aidan was very proud and, after a practice on Friday, a game on Saturday and two back to back games today, also very exhausted.

On another note, we have lost our fish. Aidan's beta fish, Albert Einstein, is no more. Oh well, the kids are over it and so am I. He's been reduced to two sentences and a quick flush down the toilet. Poor fish. There, now he's been given an entire paragraph.

First day of Grade 4

He can't really be in grade four, can he? He was just a baby yesterday, wasn't he?















And now, he was up at 7:25. He got dressed, got himself a bowl of cereal and was outside on the porch with his bag packed and on his back by 7:35. Where did my little boy go?

Birth Story

Well, for those of you not aware, we have a new baby in our house. Russell Orion Van Harten Kuffner was born on Saturday August 23 at 1:00 AM, weighing in at a grand 10lbs 7oz.

We went in on Friday for an application of prostoglandin gel to ripen the cervix, but I'd been feeling crampy all day and my cervix was ripe, so they decided to bypass the gel and just keep me in the hospital to observe the contractions. That was around 6:30 or so. By 9:00 they decided to break my water, just to help move things along, and Kurtis and I went for a long walk all around the hospital and out to the car to get our bag.

After a few hours, the contractions were getting very intense and I decided I wanted an epidural. The anesthesiologist was busy and couldn't get to me until nearly midnight. By that time I was really glad to see her. I was checked after about a half an hour and the baby's head was crowning.

The OB on call was Dr Loosey-Millman and she was incredible. She somehow helped me push out a 10 and a half pound baby in eight slow pushes, without any tearing at all. She was such a wonderful, relaxed guide through the whole process. It seemed like she knew exactly what we wanted without asking. I guided the baby out and onto my chest. Kurtis cut the cord. I nursed the baby right after birth and the nurse and all the doctors left for at least twenty minutes after his birth so that we'd have a chance to be alone with our baby. It was all perfect and I feel very lucky.

We spent about three days, hemming and hawing, uncertain as to what his name was and finally decided on Russell for no apparent reason, really. It just sounded right.



And now, here we are and everyone says we're heading for the busiest time of our lives. It's true that the chaos has already begun and at times it is overwhelming. But I love chaos. I can't wait.

Last night

It's eleven o'clock and my oldest son is sleeping in a room that glows with stick on stars. He's laid out his clothes and packed his pencil case twice in anticipation of the first day back to school tomorrow. His arms and legs are long and tanned and tangled up in sheets covered in primary coloured splotches, sheets he hates, sheets he says are too babyish for him, sheets he nags me to give to Leo. When did grade four sneak up on us like this? I remember grade four.

It's eleven o'clock and my three year old son is not sleeping. The last time his father went in to check on him he sat up in bed in order to show him how he could swim, spinning his arms like windmill blades in a dry land imitation of his brother's front crawl.

His night-time waking has increased since his newest brother arrived. Most nights one of us has to go in and lie down with him at least three or four times. I was in his room earlier, listening to music, whispering about honey bears and mummy bears, tracing my fingers along the impossibly smooth skin of his back and watching his little chest rise and fall, his just past toddler fingers, still so chubby with babyhood, twitch while his little eyelids so slowly, slowly dropped. The image is overused, I admit: his sweaty tousled curls, his rhythmic breathing, and I know it won't last. He's awake again but this time it's his father's turn.

It's past eleven o'clock now and my youngest son needs to be fed. He smells like sweet milk and baby, that soft newborn smell and his little sighs and grunts are enough to make me cry. They quicken my heart. The truth of all these cliches shocks me, even now, even with my third. He is perfect. He is mine and perfect and new.

I feel a sense of deja vu, like I have written this letter to myself once before, tired imagery and all. Maybe it was in grade four. "dear future me", "dear me of the past". This is who you are. This is who you will be. Isn't strange? Like the sun-light that blinds you as you move from behind the trees, around a corner in the road, It erases everything else but it's beautiful. Isn't it?

*amended to add that by 11:30 everyone in the house was awake. My oldest son could sleep through all the noise and I found him reading a book by the light coming in from the hallway. And I remember doing that too.

the waiting place

My due date was yesterday and I am, as I have been with all of my pregnancies, once again overdue. And bored. These last few weeks have seemed interminable and still I wait and wait and wait. Not patiently, however. I have discovered that patience in these sorts of situations is not a virtue I possess.

Well, before this post becomes one long stereotypical pregnant complaint...I can't sleep. I can't bend over. I can't be away from a bathroom for more than three minutes...and all that. Let me leave this wallowing and post some pictures of our summer so far.

This is at Kurt's cousin's wedding, at which Leo told me that he was going to marry me when he got married and Aidan told me he was going to marry someone way prettier than me. The distance between three years old and eight years old seems to grow daily.

Here is my loving family at Lowville. Kurtis looks a bit stressed and tired. Maybe it was the long day spent saving frogs from torture and attempting to convince the children that, no, crayfish cannot chop off your toes.







And here they are at Rock Point, a few weeks later. Obviously Kurtis only owns one shirt.







And a few shots from around home, just to show you that we do spend time at home and I do take pictures.














Leo being a daredevil in the pool and the giant train track that occupied my driveway for a day, in progress.

Happy Birthday to Mommy!

So...it's my birthday today. Kurtis told me I was impossibly young last night and that he couldn't believe he was with someone as young as me. (Hooray! Obviously I have chosen the perfect man.) And today my mother and father brought over freshly steamed lobster and flowers and lemon cake. The kids sang to me and were almost perfect all day long. We all watched a movie together. (Well, it was Pooh's Heffalump Movie but you take what you can get.) And then together we played on my birthday present. A very new, very fun Wii fit!

I think I may have the best life I ever could have imagined.

Perhaps you've noticed that things are certainly slowing down around here. Something about late pregnancy is not conducive to blog writing, at least not for me. I'm not sure how often I'm going to get onto the computer in the next few weeks so if there is no action from us for most of the summer, hopefully you'll all understand why.

We went to a wedding last weekend. It was lovely and casual and very relaxed and afterwards Leo told me twice that he was going to marry me when he got older. I can't wait to remind him of that when he does get married.

Here's a quick story about Aidan's fish and then I have to drag my massive self off to bed.

Aidan has a beta fish. He was given the fish at a Mad Science class by his teenaged instructor. She told him to feed the fish every other day or so. Well, the task usually falls to me or to Kurtis because those sorts of things are very easy for eight year olds to forget and, while I'm all for having kids deal with the consequences of their irresponsibility, my convictions go way right out the window when I'm faced with the starving eyes of a little, flicking, purple fish. At any rate, I went camping last Wednesday with the kids and my parents while poor Kurtis had to stay home all by himself and go to work. I hadn't fed the fish in the two days before I left and Kurtis didn't feed him that Wednesday or on the Thursday. That's four days. I guess that's a long time for our fish. On Friday morning Kurtis came downstairs and heard this sound.

"knock...knock...knock..."

"Aargh!" he thinks to himself. "The ceiling fan is making noises. I swear I installed that thing exactly like they told me to."

He turns off the fan and continues to hear a faint noise.

"knock...knock...knock"

He cannot figure out where it's coming from. It isn't loud. Just a light tapping, like someone's baby finger on a glass window. Suddenly he looks around and realizes that the fish is knocking on his glass bowl with his head. Obviously he was starving and crying out for help in the only way he knew how.

Kurtis fed the fish and the knocking stopped.

The fish is named Albert Einstein. Oh, how he deserves his name.

As an aside, that's the name that Leo has picked out for his new baby brother. Ask him what the baby's name is and invariably that is what he will tell you. I suppose it's an improvement. When I was pregnant with Leo, Aidan was dead set on the name Darth Vader Max.

words, words, words

I have a family of snails living in a box in my backyard. I'm not sure how it happened but once you tally up the nest of four birds, the fish, the dog and now the three snails that Aidan has claimed as pets, the animals are seriously outnumbering the people. And I don't even like animals. Hopefully the snails are as self-sufficient as the birds because I have no time to feed or clean up after anyone else during the day. It's funny. I always thought I was an animal person. Perhaps it's just the wrong time in my life because there are days when even Rudi, the most gentle, undemanding and wonderful dog in the universe, is too much for me.

It's that feeling of having nothing left to give. So many requests have been made of me, so many things have required my attention during the day that I end up too drained for anything else. Unfortunately for Rudi, she and Einstein the fish, although I don't think he notices, are always last on my list. She's lucky if I have the energy to rub her head for awhile in the evening. Yes, judge me as you will, there are days when it's that bad.


Thankfully, it's Aidan's responsibility to feed the dog and give her fresh water and he's usually extremely good about doing his chores. So good that I'm beginning to consider the idea that I should give him more input into the rules, responsibilites and daily management of the household. My older brother loaned me a recent copy of the London Review of Books the other day and in it there was an interesting essay on Milton and his definition of a free man. The author talked about Milton's conviction that democracy breeds creativity and and discovery while monarchies simply encourage toadying and flattery. And because I am pregnant, mostly house-bound and kind of lost right now in the foggy days of diapers, goldfish crackers and soccer practice, I no longer have any other context in which to consider this information and so have to apply it to my family life. So, perhaps it would be better for Aidan's creativity if he lived in less of a "benevolent dictatorship" (the way my friend Jean characterizes family dynamics) and more of a democracy. I'm not sure how I intend to apply these thoughts. It's certainly much easier just to tell him of the decisions I've made rather than have him participate in the decision making process. But perhaps not as beneficial in the long run. Then again, I can always assuage my conscience by concluding that the real reason that Milton can think so critically is because he had a monarchy to rebel against in the first place.

Well, that was a wordy paragraph. If you made it through, I'm impressed. Sigh. I really need some different things to occupy my brain.

Before I go, I want to remedy one thing. I realized I posted several pictures of my nephew Manny in the last blog and neglected to post even one photograph of my delightful niece Olivia who, of course, also came to Leo's party and was charming as always. Unfortunately, she was feeling a bit under the weather and looks pretty grumpy in all of the photographs I took of her that day. So, to best display her loveliness, I'll post a picture of her from her birthday. She's a perfect and dainty little girl. Note the cool flower barrette in her hair? A friend of mine makes those. Her etsy shop is here and everything she makes is really cute and stays in even the finest hair quite well.

Happy Birthday Leo!

Leo turned three today. I cannot believe that he is three. Three sounds so old, yet I look at him and he's still my chubby little baby, gorgeous and pink and soft. Ah, who am I kidding? Aidan still looks like that to me sometimes and he's almost nine.

We had Leo's family party yesterday. He enjoyed himself thoroughly and loved his cake, presents and balloons. Or at least we thought he liked his balloons. He seems to have developed some fairly intense feelings of aggression towards Pablo, the penguin from The Backyardigans, and has taken to beating the air out of him...quite literally. Things look innocent and happy here but believe me, they took an ugly turn. The poor balloon is currently lying in a crumpled, defeated heap in the corner of our living room. Leo goes over and tackles it from time to time, just to make sure it will never rise again.


I don't know where this sudden and inexplicable anger came from. He normally loves Pablo and especially Surfer Pablo. Leo has a thing for surfing. He tried it for the first time with his dad this weekend and he's sure that he's a natural.
Today, we took Leo and Aidan, Cousin Manny, Auntie Erin and Gramma to Binbrook Conservation Area to celebrate. The kids seemed to have a great time. Manny and Leo had the thrilling experience of dual diaper changes. I've edited the photo because of graphic content but it was quite a sight. And yes, I know, he's now three and still in diapers. We're working on it.









Binbrook is a great place. I feel really fortunate that we live in an area filled with so much green space and things for families to do. The kids loved the lake and the splash pad and in August, they open up the park at night so that the Hamilton Astronomers club and the public can go and view the Perseid Meteor Shower. We went last year and it was fun. Both of the kids were fascinated. Aidan was enthralled by the meteors and the telescopes and Leo was just completely amazed at the idea that we were out, in the middle of the night, lying on the ground and being quiet, looking at the sky.













Overall, it was a great birthday weekend. We had lots of family around to help us celebrate and Leo spent some quality time with his cousin Manny to practice being a good big brother, just like his own big brother. He's working on sharing and being gentle and I'm sure he'll be wonderful when the time comes. As long as his little brother never wants to dress up as Pablo for Halloween. That might get a little scary.
Well, I'm exhausted and need to get to bed. I'll leave you with one last shot of cute Cousin Manny, just because he's so adorable and chunky and such a great snuggler.

Look at those gorgeous chubby arms and giant eyes.

look what we found...

...
and no poop, as of yet.

Thanks Leo...

...I wasn't finished writing or editing that post and Leo came along and started pushing random buttons on the keyboard. So, I'll just finish up now.

As I was saying, Aidan's a great big brother, loves to hang out with his brother...and wrestle with him. which I can't stand but I think I'm just going to have to get used to it, as a mother of boys. I'm trying, I'm really trying.



So, to finish off this interrupted post I think I'll get a little cheesey and say how much I love my two amazing boys and I can't wait to add another to the mix. In fact, I love all my guys, so much, even the one with the giant, rescuing hands. Yep...there's the cheese factor for all of you. Hope you enjoyed it.

one day and so much to say

How can so many small things have happened in our lives since I last posted? I can see how these things quickly derail when you start skipping days.

First off, one of the things that keep Kurtis and I up at night finally happened. Leo fell in the pool. It happened on Sunday. Kurtis was skimming the pool before taking the boys in for an evening dip. He had Aidan on one side of him and Leo on the other. Aidan was saying something to him and neither of them were looking at Leo when suddenly they heard a splash. Kurtis says that although it took him less than a second to look at the pool, when he did Leo was floating face-down in the dead mans float. Kurt was in the water in nanoseconds and had poor, crying Leo out in no time. Then promptly had a near heart-attack himself.

Here's how Leo puts it...

"I fell into the pool and then I saw Daddy's hand reaching and I thought it was a giant and he grabbed me and he saved me."

All I can say is thank you, Kurt.

Unfortunately the tiny bit of healthy fear that the experience instilled in Leo didn't last long.
My paranoia is now insisting on at least two adults in pool area when both boys want to swim. I'm certain that, come summer, this will annoy Aidan to no end. Especially when he wants to swim and the only person here to supervise the two of them is a heavily pregnant me. He's already annoyed that he's not allowed past the pool gate without an adult. Two adults seems utterly ridiculous to him.

In other news, Aidan got his report card today and he has officially completed grade three with straight A's each term. He expects something big as a reward for his accomplishment. I told him he could have an ice cream cone. Needless to say, he wasn't impressed. I am really proud of him, though. He's a great kid. All of his teachers love him. He's thoughtful and generous with his friends and, most of the time, he's a wonderful big brother, constantly reading to Leo and doing puzzles with him.

Sudden, freak storms

I often wonder what makes a quiet moment of play suddenly turn. One minute, my kids are quietly playing with Lego. Aidan is building ships for Leo and Leo is finding parts of men and assembling them for Aidan. They seem happy. They're sharing. Suddenly, there are screams and by the time I get to the living room, all of the ships are in pieces and Leo is sitting on his older brother's head, pressing his face into the carpet. I never did get the full story.

And I can't only blame it on brotherly squabbles. Aidan can spend hours, seemingly at peace, working on paper airplanes, then suddenly explode with frustration, crumpling the paper into twisted bits of wreckage and crying. Leo is the same way. It's amazing how some quiet time with stickers can go so drastically wrong.

Neither of the boys is very good with Zen. I used to know a little boy who, even at five, drank chamomile tea and took warm baths when he was stressed. Not my boys. They're little tempests, just waiting to be unleashed on unsuspecting moments of calm.




We had our own storm today. The morning was clear and beautiful but the afternoon brought thunder and lightning and even little pebbles of hail. It rained really hard for close to an hour and we were left with huge lakes in the backyard and a bit more water damage on our dining room ceiling because of the leaky window in Aidan's room. Ah...how I love old houses.





Can you see the bits of hail in our flower pot?

Leo loved it and I'm sure Aidan would have been even more impressed, considering his obsession with extreme weather, but he was at a birthday party this afternoon at the East Hamilton Kiwanis Boys and Girls Club and didn't even notice. Obviously the noise of fifteen eight and nine year old boys playing, almost without supervision, in a gym was at a sufficient decibel to keep them all oblivious.


Here is Leo, enjoying the puddles. Actually, his expression makes him look like he's not enjoying them at all. I promise you he was. We could barely drag him back inside.

OH NO!!!!!

AAAAH...The Dutch are perilously close to losing...I may have to cry now.

I knew I shouldn't have posted before the game was over. Damn.

birds and bragging rights

The bird is back on our porch. We had a robin nesting on our porch earlier in the spring but the eggs hatched, the hatchlings flew away and so did the bird. I was really hoping she wouldn't return. I tried to clear up the nest but Kurtis wouldn't allow it, thinking it added a certain wild ambiance or something. Personally, I'm not fond of cleaning bird poop from all over the deck. Well, the bird is back and nesting again. All I can say is if she poops on my furniture, I may have to bake her in a pie with a two dozen of her closest relatives. I love the wonder of nature, just not in my house...or on my back deck.




Other than that, so far today is shaping up well. It's been rainy (yet again) and poor Aidan is at an outdoor birthday party in the park but the Netherlands are playing Russia today and that promises to be a good game. In fact, Kurtis and Leo are curled on the couch right now with their popcorn and a beer (well, Kurtis has the beer). I'm going to join them momentarily to cheer on my team. Being half Dutch I have rights, bragging rights since they're doing so phenomenally well. Kurtis says he has bragging rights as well because he's conquered a Dutch woman. Can you hear my eyes rolling?

Countdown begins

Well, school is almost over. Aidan is counting down by hours now...by the end of the day there will be 27.5 hours of school left (if you don't count lunch hours). He's thrilled and can't wait to spend his days in the pool and in front of the Wii (not going to happen, buddy!) He's hoping to only ever wear his pajamas or his swimsuit and keeps trying to sell me on the benefits of this, not as much laundry you know. As you can see...he's already getting a jump start on all of this and spends weekends in his pajamas whenever he can.



Leo is counting down the days as well, but he's anticipating his birthday. He has very specific ideas for the party and several times a day he gives me instructions about the exact kinds of balloons, cake, guests and wrapping paper that should be there. It's a long litany of details and they're pretty much written in stone. Diego will be there, as well as his Gramma and cousin Manny, cousin Olivia and possibly cousin Austin (whom I have never heard of before this week). Everyone will go swimming, except for Diego who will drive around the pool in his rescue boat, of course.


We've finally finished getting our back porch in order, just in time for the party. Kurtis tells me that the back porch is his favourite room in the summer and I'd hoped to get it done for Father's day but the weekend after had to do. Leo chose all of the flowers. His main criteria seemed to be that they be pink and expensive and the biggest in the world. He loves it back there and spends hours sorting through seashells with me, dropping them down between the cracks in the boards much to my chagrin.


Speaking of Father's Day, the day was pretty low-key here. Poor Kurtis, he even had to make his own breakfast. Leo did paint him some pictures and wished him Happy Father's Day about fifteen times in one day, which was adorable...at first.


I'll leave you with a shot of Leo's artistry hanging on the line. Isn't he a little Picasso?