Power of Peesuasion

No the title was not misspelled, but simply a pun on words. I have been diligently, if not begrudgingly, working on eliminating more diaper purchases in our home. David has shown multiple signs of progress, yet for a while I chose to ignore them. I failed so many times when I became over eager with Samuel that even the THOUGHT of forging ahead before the age of 3 was not an option. (David will not be 3 until November).

 Yet I finally could not deny the fact that David was ready for the initiation into little boyhood. The hot months are decidedly easier to tackle saggy pants running around the yard anyways.

So with a little bag of Reese's Pieces and the knowledge that the laundry pile would increase by leaps and bounds, we tackled potty training. I haven't found my groove or formula to use that expels a perfectly trained child within a week, but there is one tried and true measure I lean heavily on. TREATS.

Treats and sacrifice are my rules of thumbs. Reward when the child stays dry and toss the underwear when its to gross to clean out. Get the picture?!?! We don't punish a child for leaving a puddle on the floor because his aim was off or we didn't make it the bathroom in time to help him. We bite our tongue AND pinch our nose when #2 doesn't happen in the toilet. We just try again, and again, and again.

Eventually we stay dry longer, but the true test is venturing from home in Thomas the tank engine clad undies, running errands with mommy, and returning home still dry. THEN and only then do we take a proud picture atop the toilet!!

Dat's a good idea

David is always surprising me. 

And not necessarily in a good way. 

He is keen on finding the muddiest water hole to splash through and you can always check his face for remnants of his last meal. I've begun to arm myself with a good stain remover for his clothes alone. They have more children to adorn and miles to travel. Yet through the mess and muck is a young boy with lots of love to lavish on his family. Each morning he asks for cheese on his yogurt. Sounds a bit gross right?! Let me elaborate! He is actually asking for crunchy wheat germ that I sprinkle in for my blonde boy to stir up, though he definitely throws off the unsuspecting breakfast helper if you do not know what he is referring too.

 (the usual look...dirt and food sprinkled across his sun soaked face.)

David has finally begun to spit out full concise sentences. Throw in exaggerated hand gestures with whatever he is attempting to convey and you have to suppress many a giggle or untimely smile. As per many middle children, he doesn't always relish the privilege to play alone, eat alone, sleep alone, BE alone. As he develops his own personality, one phrase he has coined and I imagine has been pressed into his memory by none other than his mother is the phrase "Dat's a good idea." Whether its the announcement of an impending meal or a trip to town or his favorite cartoon, it's always a "good idea."

Animated, brimming with curiosity, and often coated in God's great creation, his stained clothes and mystery filled pockets always keeps us smiling and wondering what's next.