Dream a Little Dream

The girls have said things here and there in the past that have led me to believe that they might have had a nightmare. Things like, "That mean boy came in my room and tried to get me" or "There was a scary monster in there last night!" Dreaming is, yet again, another non-tangible that I've found it difficult to explain to the girls. I think, though, I've managed to provide them with at least some understanding. I hate the idea that they are already having bad dreams, but this morning I got confirmation that they are also having good ones. After Jeff had left to go to some appointments, Cadie came and crawled into bed with me, rolled over, and went back to sleep. When she once again woke up, she said to me very excitedly, "Mommy! Do you know what? I helped Marlin find Nemo and get him back to his daddy!" I asked her if she'd had a dream that she helped Nemo's daddy find him, and she smiled back with a "Yes!" Mind you, we haven't watched Finding Nemo in a couple of weeks, but I'm not surprised that my girls dream in Disney. She was so excited and so proud; and I was relieved that all of her dreams aren't the bad kind.

Bare Buns

This time last week, I decided I'd had enough. Maddie had slid back so far in her attempts at becoming potty trained that she was once again in pull-ups full time and no longer doing anything in the potty. I know my child. And as much as I wanted to make excuses for her -- She's scared because she thinks it will hurt; There's something wrong in her diet that is keeping her from going when she needs to; and so on. The truth of the matter is, she's just too darn stubborn and too darn busy. So I did what any sane parent would do; I took away her pull-ups and her panties and made her spend the day in her bare buns.

Most of the time, my children fully embrace nudity. They love running around naked and having some naked time. They're free spirits. On this occasion, though, Madeline was none too thrilled. She shrieked for some pull-ups, tears running down her cheeks. Two things about this situation I was confident of: 1) Madeline was using her pull-ups as a crutch. She knows she can go in them and the only consequence is an irritated Mommy. Although the feeling isn't pleasant, she can handle some stink in her drawers for a while until it's cleaned up. 2) Madeline would not poop on the floor. This, I just know. So taking away her pull-ups and not allowing her panties or pants meant she had one option: pooping in the potty.

I left the girls with Jeff so I could turn in my fair entries, and imagine my surprise and delight when not ten minutes from home I got a call from a proud Madeline stating she had pooped in the potty (she also elaborated that it was a really, really, really big poop). Not only had she pooped in the potty, but she had done it completely on her own. The day progressed with yet another solo poop, and I hoped that we were finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Since then, Madeline has been a pooper star. I think we've passed the worst and that we are finally on our way to a fully potty-trained household. Both girls were rewarded with some brand new Dora, Spongebob, and Elmo panties. They're so proud of themselves; and Jeff and I are solving problems, one bare bottom at a time!

Well Crumb...

Call me indecisive, but I'm back.  When it comes to all things creative, I get antsy.  I couldn't stand not being able to make my blog "cute" on Xanga, so here I am, back at Blogger where I can use super cute templates made by other hardworking, creative, html literate people.  So there you go.

Lydia

I've never claimed to fully understand my children. I knew, with them being twins, that they would likely have a special bond, oftentimes absorbed in their own special world, speaking their own special language. And, as expected, that is the case. They've had a special connection even since they were babies. The day they both could crawl, they took off down the hall on their own little adventure, giggles abounding. As they've gotten older, their special bubble has grown to encompass imaginary play involving cats in the attic, cooking food in their "Old McDonald's", using bobby pins to unlock their doors at "work", and running through the house pretending they are being chased by a monster, at times one of them playing the role of said monster. One part of their play that stands out more than the others, though, is them calling one another "Lydia". It started months ago, I can't even remember the exact moment. But for quite some time now, I'll hear them playing or watch them racing through the house saying, "Come here, Lydia! Hurry or the monster is going to get you!" Or, "I said come here, Lydia. You need to mind or your mommy is going to give you a spankin'!" And, "Where are you, Lydia? We need to get ready to go to the store." I know they aren't referring to an imaginary friend because they are always referring to one another. As far as the name is concerned, I have two explanations. 1.) Their Grana –my stepmom—is named Lydia. We've always tried to refer to grandparents as their assigned name, especially when the girls were younger and they were still learning. As the girls got older, if we slipped and I called Daddy, Jeff, Cadie would give me a stern look and say, "Don't say Jeff, say Da-ddy." There must have been a few instances the girls heard Grana referred to as Lydia, because they quickly learned that was her "real" name. 2.) The girls have a cousin named Lydia. I'm more inclined to go with the former rather than the latter because they have only spent time with their cousin on two or three occasions and it's been almost two years. I think they must have latched onto Lydia's name because they rarely hear anyone refer to their Grandma –Jeff's mom—or Nana –my mom- by their first names. So, it all comes down to this. I blame Poppy –my dad—because he's terrible with names. He oftentimes refers to Lydia by her first name and even went through a stint of calling her "Granny" (which she loved...). Madeline even took to calling her Granny, with a glint of mischief in her eye. Regardless, though, of what name they call one another, I always smile and chuckle because I cherish the bond they have with one another; it's a special one.