I have been followed by the lingering smell of urine all day today. It seems that no matter where I traverse within my home or car, it wafts sweet, stinky mockery in my face, “I will not be trained.” Burke, while trained to poop in the toilet for months, can only manage to “remember” to pee in the toilet on occassion. Does he even care? It’s certainly up for debate as I watch him playing in some other imaginative world (most likely a galaxy far, far away), standing in the middle of his bedroom with pee dribbling down his leg into a small pool on the floor. Liam’s yelling, “Burke! You’re peeing!” I’m yelling, “Burke! Get to the toilet!” But, he just stands there, staring at us with shock. I’m not sure he’s entirely to blame. I haven’t exactly been the iconic potty trainer: inconsistent at best. It’s another one of those logistical parenting things that I can’t quite master — along with brushing teeth (forget even mentioning the dentist — sorry John), planning meals (even at times, grocery shopping), and “chores.” So, I do it when I think about it (which, I figure, is better than never). We do bathe regularly. Although Mark and I use that crystal deodorant, which doesn’t actually deodorize all that well. Throw in the morning “work-outs” we’ve been doing with Kristen and Tim, and our living room smells like a boys locker room. Basically, if our present household scent were a math equation it would look something like this:
urine + bad breath + rotting potatoes in the pantry + old, sweaty gym shorts + mrs. meyer’s counter spray = our home today (God, bless Mrs. Meyer’s today)
Apparently, I’ve treated numbers with the same laissez-faire attitude around our home. We don’t really implement them into our time with the kids with the same consistency that we do language. Again, I just don’t think about it, until we have moments in the car when Liam asks, “how long will it take to get there?” “an hour and a half,” I reply. “Oh, so that’s about 3 hours then?” Or while our good friend, Latonya, is playing hide-and-seek with the kids, I overhear Burke counting “seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, eleven-teen” and Liam repeatedly skipping the numbers fifteen and seventeen on his way to twenty. Uh-oh.
Comments
This all makes me laugh. Thanks for each of your “smelly” wisdom.
About every other day when he’s walking in the door from work the husband will say, “Something reeks.” And I’ll say, in a hopeful voice, “I cleaned (the toilets, the tub..) today?” and he’ll say nope, it’s not a cleaner kind of reek.
Also I was leaning in to hug my sister-in-law goodbye a couple of days ago and I caught a whiff of myself just as the hug was commencing and there was a definite poo smell emanating–from my shirt? my hands? I just don’t know. It’s weird–I worked in a children’s hospital for four years and don’t remember smelling the stuff I smell around here on a daily basis.
I have a feeling Hudson is going to be Burkesque when it comes to potty training.
Your mom is wise. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Is this where I say …mom here.
Really honey….as one mom to another , I am so very proud of you!!(sorry Mark, but they are very necessary!!}…!!!!
The fruit of your womb are still very much in their seed stage.When we look at seed, we can’t always tell what the full fruit will look like….
yet we press on , watering and feeding day after day and in the fulness of time….a manchild, who will use the potty and count to ten and beyond..heh-heh!
After all, look at you and Mark…you turned out great!!
Love and Blessings
Mom
so, this past saturday, liam’s in the bathroom doing his business and i say to burke, “dude, do you need to go to the bathroom before we go to the park?” and he says, “no.” and i say, “i think you should try. we’ll be there awhile.” and he says, “but i don’t have to.” and i whisper to him, “do you need a change?” and he says confidentally, “no.” so i check on liam. then i say to burke – like twenty seconds later – “are you sure you don’t need to go or need a change?” he says, “yes. a new diaper.” and i say, “what? when did you go?” and he just looked at me with a slight blush.
i mean, that’s way fast.
when me and the latonyanator start having kids, can we hire your kids to teach them how to be cool? we’ll pay them in transformers and spider-mans and hulks.
I think Pepe is on to something…particularly about Burke. We’ll keep our eye on him, and the counting thing, totally normal for their ages!
husband here.
first of all. numbers are boring. they have no “anima” they’re cold, impersonal. i don’t know anything about numbers and look at me, i’m kicking ass.
secondly. urine isn’t bacterial until it cools and sits. we’ve got like a two hour window there before things get toxic. so….it’s not a problem.
third. brushing teeth is, as i’ve mentioned to you before, unnecessary as this is the “practice” set. they’re going to fall out anyway in a couple of years and THATS when we kick in with the brushing and flossing and dentist. before the real set — it’s money down the drain, the dentist’s drain.
fourth. the rotting potatoes. well. that’s just disgusting. no defense there.
fifth. burke is going to be okay. he’s the absent minded genius. watch him. he’s cooking up something profound in there and when he’s like 25, suddenly, the universe is going to snap into focus and he’ll proclaim “eureka!” at which point he’ll understand how nuclear fusion works or will know how to convert human waste into clean burning fuel. be patient. burke is.
we’re doing great. CPS hasn’t been by once! full success.