Category Archives: Parenting

The Potty Party

Log this post under Parenting 101. I’m letting you in on what’s going on in the Hale house, and hoping to start a discussion that will help some of my mom-friends.

In case you haven’t read my profile, lemme drop some Jennifer K. Hale basics on you. I am the mother of two young boys, ages 5 and 2.

We’ve recently started talking “potty” around the house again, preparing the 2 year old to ditch the diapers and graduate up to the Mickey Mouse & Thomas underwear.

In fact, for two days last week I started the potty training process, but after disasters both days, I quit. I think he’s still too young.

My oldest was nearly 3 before he was fully trained, so I’m not worried about my 2 year old. He’ll get there.

But when I was first thinking about potty-training my oldest, I did a lot of worrying about “how long” the process should take, “how old” was an appropriate age, and just “how to” do it.

All things considered, when I buckled down and did 4 straight days of nothing but hard-core potty time, my oldest was in dry underwear with no accidents and we never looked back.

Some friends and I were discussing the whole potty training issue over dinner the other night. (My, how girl-talk changes when the kiddos come along!) Several of us all had baby boys within a few months of each other, and one of those little guys, only 2, is completely potty trained, setting the bar pretty high for the rest of his buds. One of my friends hasn’t started the potty training process at all, so we were discussing techniques, incentives, and appropriate expectations.

Here are a few of my thoughts:

  • I don’t think it’s a good idea to push potty training on a kid who’s too young.
  • Letting my son “shoot” things in the toilet (like cereal) worked great for him.
  • Pull-ups are a lot like diapers. Some kids don’t feel the difference and won’t treat a Pull-up any differently, so sometimes just going straight to real undies works best.
  • Expecting your kid to be day-trained and night-trained at the same time isn’t a realistic expectation.
  • If you really want your kid to get it, you’ve got to be willing to stay home and work on nothing but potty-training for a few days. (For working moms, this might work best over a long weekend or holiday.)
  • My boys always preferred to be on the “big potty” rather than a plastic, small one, so we got one of the little seats that sits on the real toilet. 

P.S. Obviously I have no idea what it’s like to train a girl. I hear they are easier and potty train earlier. If you have a daughter– lucky you. 🙂

Share with Me: How old were your kids when they were potty trained? What are your potty training secrets?

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Leashing the Mama Bear

I had one of those moments today where I almost took someone’s head off.

She made a comment about my kid, and I went all “Mama Bear”.

My lips got tight. My heart started beating faster. My body went hot as the rage seared through my chest. And for one fabulous second, I imagined lashing out at her, teeth barred, claws exposed, a thunderous, snarly growl resonating from my chest. (Get the image? Not pretty, nor ladylike.)

I’m not going to put the specifics here because I want to protect the “innocent”,  but suffice it to say that her comment was at the expense of my 5 year old son (whom she knows). Thankfully, he was not present, but my 2 year old was.

Not.Cool.

I wanted to rip her to shreds and leave her body in tiny, whimpering pieces, but instead I politely contradicted her and walked away.

I call that success.

After all, I’m only human.

Share with me: Have you ever had a “Mama Bear” moment? How did you handle it?

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The Mess Maker

When I was pregnant with my second child, my husband jokingly said, “What if our oldest is actually the calm one?”

I laughed because there was No.Way. that could be true. Our oldest son was loud, dramatic, outgoing, and often times a bit too rambunctious, so I just knew that baby #2 would be calm, quiet and reserved.

Boy, was I wrong.

Our second son, now 2 years old, is the funny man. I have no doubt that he’s going to grow up to be the class clown. He’s into everything and I literally can’t take my eyes off of him or he’ll discover another way to create a ginormous mess.

He loves to get jars or bottles and empty the contents onto the carpets or furniture in the house.

Baby lotion. Baby powder. Peanut Butter. Shampoo. Toothpaste. Perfume. Hair gel. Vaseline. Baby wipes. Bubbles. The contents of any and all cups left within his reach.

Our carpets have seen better days.

“Mom, come look at your son!”

That is never the way I want to wake up, and whenever the five-year-old says something like that, I know whatever I’m supposed to be “looking” at isn’t going to be good.

This morning I responded to those words and entered the kitchen in time to see my youngest atop a chair, his hair greasy and glued to his head, his body slippery and slick, and my kitchen covered in the contents of an entire bottle of dishwashing liquid. An entire bottle. *sigh*

The five-year-old was laughing.

“What are you doing?!” I’m freaking out, mostly because my baby is standing on a chair.

His little hands were held out to me. “I’m dirty, Mama.”

Now, you might be getting all judgy with me at this point, thinking, “why doesn’t she just keep this stuff out of his reach?”

We’ve tried. No amount of height or locks or hiding can deter the child from finding something to make a mess with. He is the mess-maker. He is a force brute storm one-man mess making army.

And yet, I can’t help but love him. Even though he’d christened himself with dishwashing soap, I carried him to the bathtub, washed him off, and allowed him to re-start his day clean and fresh. He then refused a spoon and ate cinnamon cereal with his bare, sticky hands and then rubbed them all in his hair.

The smell of cinnamon lingered all day. I used it to remind myself that fall is coming.

Becoming a parent was the greatest thing that ever happened to me to help me understand the love that God has for each of us, his children.

No matter what kind of mess we make, God cleans us off. No matter what amount of dirt we manage to cake on, he rinses it away and gives us a fresh, clean start.

And no matter how many messes we make or what sort of filth we manage to create, the redeeming blood of Jesus Christ washes us clean and brings us to our Heavenly Father, from whom we can never be separated.

Love like that is a gift; it’s mercy. I’m reminded of it every time I clean up behind my little hurricane.

Yeah, I’m reminded of it a lot.

Share with me: What is the worst mess one of your children has ever made? How has parenting changed your view of God?

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Filed under Parenting, The Christian Walk