Concealed Handguns on Campus????

Concealed Handgun Licensure being brought onto coleege campuses is a topic that affects millions of students and their lives.  Because of the extremity of this subject, many people are scared into jumping into their opinion without first educating themselves.  It is a heavy subject, to be sure, because it does involve so many people and their children.  As with any high profile subject, the people on each side have valid points that everyone should be aware of.

According to the proponents for CHL:

1.  We are not proposing "arming" students on campus.  We are simply allowing those who have already sucessfully completed training and already possess a CHL to continue to do so while on campus.  This includes police, ROTC, and professors. 

2.  Even though the odds are low that it will occur on you campus, you should still be proactive and be able to defend yourself if necessary.  We put fire alarms in our houses to prevent housefires.  We use seatbelts in our cars even though we probably won't wreck on our way to work.  Why should this be any different?

3.  Why would a rule of no guns allowed keep out criminals whose very intent is to break the law?  If a criminal wants to come on campus with a gun, they will do it, whether or not there are signs stating that guns are not allowed.  This actually makes college campuses more attractive to killers because they are easy targets with no means of self-defense.

4.  Any institution who cannot guarantee protection to it's visitors must not deprive those visitors of the ability to protect themselves. 

5.  According to crime statistics and inquiries to campus officials, there hasn’t been a single reported instance of shootouts, accidents or heated confrontations resulting from concealed carry on campus. In fact, Colorado State University’s crime rate has declined steadily since allowing concealed carry. While no one can irrefutably claim this is due to concealed carry, we can at least state with certainty that allowing concealed carry does not increase risks to a campus population and may even help (ConcealedCampus.com, 2011).


6.  There are plenty of crimes on campuses that are not necessarily gun related, but would be prevented by the ability to bear arms.  Currently 9 sexual assults are reported on campuses each day (ConcealedCampus.com).  These might have an opportunity to be prevented if the people who were being assaulted were able to carry a gun in order to protect themselves.


Those who are against CHL's on campus have this to say:

1.   Campus mental health professionals fear guns on campus would lead to an increase in suicides — the second leading cause of death among college students (Wermund, 2011).  To have handguns in easily attainable places, such as college dorm rooms is only giving more access to already unstable students.

2.  Campus police are worried about distinguishing between "the bad actor" and people defending themselves when both have drawn guns (Wermund).  This is a valid argument.  How would the police be able to distinguish one student from another if they both have guns pointed at each other?  What if the hero is then turned into the martyr? 

3.  With combustible materials present in science labs and hospitals across campuses, some have expressed concern that firing a gun in certain places "may have consequences well beyond what one may expect in other environments,(Wermund)."

4. Oklahoma chancellor of higher education Glen Johnston, quote from Yahoo News says, “There is no scenario where allowing concealed weapons on college campuses will do anything other than create a more dangerous environment for students, faculty, staff and visitors (The Tartan, 2011).”

5.  The overall environment is unsafer with a high ratio of guns on campus overall.  There is no reason to put more guns on campus when a campus is statistically a safer place than other well populated areas.  Giving more people access to guns is just adding fuel to a fire.

I have to say, after reading all of the arguments both for and against guns on campus, my mind has been somewhat changed.  The statistics truly show that when concealed guns are prohibited, the crime rate goes up, not down.  It drops significantly when citizens are allowed to carry guns.  If this same idea is applied to college campuses we may actually be safer with more guns on campus.  I don't, however, like the idea of just any Tom, Dick, or Harry to become vigilante gun carriers.  I think that if guns are allowed on campus, those who carry them must not only have a valid CHL, but there should also be new tactical advisory classes specifically for those who intend to carry while on a campus.  We must remember that the first and foremost concern is the safety of ALL students.  Just because the police have a low rate of hitting their targets as well does not mean that we should allow everyone to have a gun.  It is ludicrous to imagine that someone who simply goes to the basic training that is provided for CHL holders can now protect themselves and everyone else on college campuses.  If you intend to become the protector of students and faculty, there should be some sort of extra training required. 

And that's my opinion today!

I'm so full!

Okay, so I'm going to admit something to you.  I love food.  Seriously.  I love it.  But at the same time, I don't want to be unhealthy.  It's truly a pickle, which sounds good, by the way.  I like to exercise too, which is a good thing and usually balances my big ass out, but I don't think I'll ever be a size 2, no matter what I do. 

And it is so difficult to be a healthy mom when I am constantly barraged with food associated with my children!  I mean, what is with the girl scout cookies???  I love them, don't get me wrong, but why can't I just buy my 2 box quota and be done with it??  I don't need 25 boxes; I'd rather just donate my money or buy a t-shirt or something.  Which will be a 2XL by the time I finish these cookies, I'll have you know.  And the boy scouts have popcorn, right?  But not regular popcorn, no...this stuff is loaded with caramel, cheddar cheese, or butter.  Not to mention the cookie dough sales that the schools have.  And it's funny too, that everyone says wintertime is weight gain time, but isn't there a holiday every month? 

January has New Year's and the Super Bowl.  Try staving off calories during that.  Not gonna happen. 

February has Valentine's Day.  What is the gift of choice?  CHOCOLATE!  (My favorite, btw).
March has St. Patrick's Day, and you can't tell me that you won't drink at least one green beer.  Beer=calories.  It also=delicious. 

April has Easter, which means good home cooking plus all the candy in the kid's Easter baskets.  Someone remind me what a rabbit who lays eggs has to do with Jesus?

May has the Cinco de Mayo....hello every delicious type of Mexican food you can think of!  Plus Mother's Day, which means a dinner out, of course.

June has Father's Day, but it is also the real beginning of summer, which means barbeques full of meat, beans, and every type of mayonaisse based salad you can think of (potato, macaroni, broccoli, etc.)

July has the 4th of July, which is another barbeque and candy thrown at the local parade.  Then even more barbeques, am I wrong?

August might be the only month that doesn't have anything in it, but it DOES signify the end of summer, to which we must throw at least 1-5 get togethers and bbq some more.  :)  Hello again, potato salad!

September has Labor Day weekend, which means the entire weekend is full of bad choices including that final barbeque and campout with smores and more beer.

October has Halloween, and we all know that Halloween is the Chocolate Lover's Wet Dream.  (That would be me).  5 lbs, minimum, both of chocolate and on my ass.

November we throw in Thanksgiving, because, let's face it, who doesn't want to stuff their face with turkey, stuffing, every side we can think of, and grandma's homemade pie?  I know I'm already waiting!

December is Christmas, complete with parties at school, home, and everywhere in between.  Then you have Christmas day, with stocking candy and more FOOD!!! 

Let's not even get into all of the birthday parties that we attend as parents.  This means cake, cake, cake, oh and throw a little ice cream on top of that will ya?  Just a small piece for me, but nah, go ahead, we're celebrating, right? 

Sound familiar. I think you get my point.

The way I roll...

I love my family.  That's the way I roll.  Some people have amazing, connected families.  I wish I could claim that.  My brothers and sister and I are connected through love of each other and trials that we have shared, and my dad is great.  Ever senile, but still great.  My nuclear family has been extremely disfunctional my entire life, which doesn't surprise me, because there is no such thing as a normal family.  I do, however, tend to get overanimated when it comes to my mother.  It's so Freudian, isn't it?  Blame it on the mother.  That's where the problems lie.  People think that Freud was a whack job, and yes, he was, but the whole mother connection thing does have validation.  I don't think that we all have Oedipal complexes, but I do think that there is something to be said about the relationship that is formed or not formed between a child and their mother.  The fact that I still ache for a connection with my mother tells me that it cannot be taken lightly, regardless of the trauma that happens in a child's life.  The fact that I care so much about someone else's actions means that even when I deny giving a shit, I still do.

They tell you, "You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family."  I say that is wrong, wrong, wrong.  I picked my husband.  I picked my friends, who are more like family to myself, my husband, and my kids than some of my blood relatives.  Maybe they picked me.  Who knows?  But the bond of mother and daughter can be broken.  It is flexible and bounds back from distress, to be sure, but I am now the mother.  My first instinct now is to my own children.  To protect them, love them, teach them, and to help them grow.  I feel that the most important thing for my children is to be loved, unconditionally. Yes, they piss me off sometimes.  It's bound to happen.  We will argue, we will fight, there will be yelling, and tears at points throughout their lives.  But the one thing that they will NEVER do is question my love for them.  I will spend my life showing them, through my actions, what unconditional love is.

Priceless

"Mommy, I want to paint," says my son with a serious look on his face. 

"No, bubba, we're not painting right now.  We can paint later.  We have a lot to do today."

"But MOOOOM!  I want to paint!  Please!" says Ethan even more intensely.

"I said NO! We don't have time!" I retort.

This argument goes on for about 5 minutes, after which my son disappears while I continue getting dressed for the day.  I'm already stressed out, because I have company and a full schedule for the day, none of which includes finger painting with the kids.  Ethan has other plans, however. 

As I rush around the house making sure that everything is together to go I realize that Ethan has disappeared.  Where is that kid?  I have to get him dressed.  I call for him and he yells that he is in his room.

I walk down the hallway toward his bedroom and open the door.  A sharp yell escapes my throat before I even know what just happened.  "SHIT!! ETHAN, WHAT DID YOU DO????"

"I painted!" he says joyfully jumping off the bed with glee. 

Imagine the scene.  An otherwise clean bedroom, with off white carpet, Cars sheets, a toy dragon, a fluffy green pillow, and a Tonka bulldozer, all covered in gigantic splotches of blue Crayola finger paints.  I can't even think right now.  There is paint seemingly everywhere.  It is dripping down the side of the sheets onto the floor, and OMG, what are we going to do about the CARPET???? 

We rush to grab some SpotShot Carpet Cleaner and scoop the blobs off the floor onto a paper plate.  I hurriedly spray the carpet cleaner onto the spots as I think to myself, "This is never coming out.  I'll never get back out deposit now.  Damn you child!!"

Ethan is screaming his woe to the world in the kitchen corner timeout area.  2 1/2 minutes later I call him into the room, red-faced, choking on his spit.

He is so beautiful that I can't muster up the anger that I had previously. 

"Bubba, where are we supposed to paint?" 

"On the, on the...hick, hick...on the paper," he says sweetly.

I go through explaining why Mommy got so mad and we proceed into the dining room to grab a piece of paper for him to finish his artwork on.  As I watch him settle into his chair at the table I start to laugh.  I realize that my son is just like me.  He wanted to paint.  The world told him no, but he wanted to do it.  So he did it.  He learned a lesson from it, and I don't think he'll ever paint his room without a dropcloth again, but he knew what he wanted and went for it. 

Most of the paint came out of the carpet, by the way.  It will forever hold a slight tinge of blue, and I'm certain that I won't get back my deposit now, but eh, oh well.  I mean....

Deposit: $400
Fingerpaints:  $7
SpotShot:  $4
A lesson in life: Priceless

All that this week???

Wow.  It is crazy time in Krystie town.  What I mean by that is that there is some serious time management under way at my house.  These weeks are getting crazier and crazier, and I realize this is my own doing, but wow!  My planner looks like a small child went through it with a highlighter and a ball point pen, but no.  That was definitely me.  :)

My daughter started T-Ball last week, which is great.  She loves it, she has a blast out there, she runs off all of her energy, but my lordy, it is three practices per week plus games.  I suppose it has something to to with being in Texas and all, but when I was a kid, we practiced maybe twice a week, and that was only when we didn't have games.  I knew that it was going to wear her out, but it's only week 2 and it is wearing me out!  It would be more convenient if I didn't have to drive 15 minutes each way to get her to practice.  Why couldn't they put teams in the order of their geographical location?  Yeah, right...they actually have a T-Ball DRAFT!  And did I mention that we had tryouts?  That's right.  For 5 year olds. 

I do have to say though, some of those kids are hardcore!  And you should see some of the parents.  My daughter's coach said that two of the coaches actually got into a fight during the draft.  There was even trading going on.  I love Emily's coach though.  He seems very down to earth and doesn't have that wild-eyed "I gotta win" look in his eyes.  He wants the kids to have fun, and so far, she definitely is. 

Did I mention that I'm still in school?  Full time?  Final year?  So, yeah, that's plenty of homework.  Plus my extracurriculars for the resume.  And I have to start working on my practicum.  My hubby is in school too, plus we run our own business.  If I didn't know how to use my planner, I would be completely fucked.  Can't wait until Ethan starts to play Pee Wee Football.  I have a feeling it will only get crazier the older they get.  But damn, you gotta love 'em.

On the up side, my crock pot is going to be getting a lot of use these next few months.  That and the barbeque.  :)  We'll be doing a lot of convenience cooking at home, which means I don't have to deal with it during the evening.  I guess that's one thing off the planner....twenty two more to go. 

It's all about me!

Does anyone know what narcissitic personality disorder (NPD) is?  Let me give you a definition. 

"Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental disorder in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance and a deep need for admiration. Those with narcissistic personality disorder believe that they're superior to others and have little regard for other people's feelings. But behind this mask of ultra-confidence lies a fragile self-esteem, vulnerable to the slightest criticism.

 

Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by dramatic, emotional behavior, in the same category as antisocial and borderline personality disorders.

  

Narcissistic personality disorder symptoms may include:

• Believing that you're better than others
• Fantasizing about power, success and attractiveness
• Exaggerating your achievements or talents
• Expecting constant praise and admiration
• Believing that you're special and acting accordingly
• Failing to recognize other people's emotions and feelings
• Expecting others to go along with your ideas and plans
• Taking advantage of others
• Expressing disdain for those you feel are inferior
• Being jealous of others
• Believing that others are jealous of you
• Trouble keeping healthy relationships
• Setting unrealistic goals
• Being easily hurt and rejected
• Having a fragile self-esteem
• Appearing as tough-minded or unemotional

 

Although some features of narcissistic personality disorder may seem like having confidence or strong self-esteem, it's not the same. Narcissistic personality disorder crosses the border of healthy confidence and self-esteem into thinking so highly of yourself that you put yourself on a pedestal. In contrast, people who have healthy confidence and self-esteem don't value themselves more than they value others.

 

When you have narcissistic personality disorder, you may come across as conceited, boastful or pretentious. You often monopolize conversations. You may belittle or look down on people you perceive as inferior. You may have a sense of entitlement. And when you don't receive the special treatment to which you feel entitled, you may become very impatient or angry. You may insist on having "the best" of everything — the best car, athletic club, medical care or social circles, for instance.

 

But underneath all this behavior often lies a fragile self-esteem. You have trouble handling anything that may be perceived as criticism. You may have a sense of secret shame and humiliation. And in order to make yourself feel better, you may react with rage or contempt and efforts to belittle the other person to make yourself appear better.

 

When to see a doctor

 

When you have narcissistic personality disorder, you may not want to think that anything could be wrong — doing so wouldn't fit with your self-image of power and perfection. But by definition, narcissistic personality disorder causes problems in many areas of your life, such as relationships, work, school or your financial affairs. You may be generally unhappy and confused by a mix of seemingly contradictory emotions. Others may not enjoy being around you, and you may find your relationships unfulfilling (Mayo Clinic, 2011)."

 

 

I said all of that to say this.  I understand a child believing that the world revolves around them.  That is a child's way of thinking because their brain is still developing.  But for an adult to continue to live in a world that they believe is all about them and their needs is simply debilatating.  I am sure that all of my readers know at least one person in their life who exhibits symptoms of NPD.  It is one of the most frustrating disorders that friends/family can deal with.  The reason for this is that the only real treatment for narcissim is therapy.  That would go against all aspects of someone with NPD, and so they very rarely seek therapy or even admit that something could possibly be wrong with them. 

 

I'm bringing this to your attention, because I believe that if we start telling these people with NPD that something is wrong with them, and there is treatment, perhaps the stigma will no longer be as large and they will go and get treatment. 

 

Until then though, I will no longer invite people with NPD to be a part of mine or my family's life.  Please seek treatment prior to any contact with me.  I hope that this information that I have provided you will be of assistance to your future relationships with both friends and family.  Again, please seek treatment. 

 

Don't worry guys, I'll post a fun read later. 
 

 

 

 

 

It's scawy!

Those of you readers with kids have been there, right?  You do the bedtime routine, sing them a song, say the prayers, tuck the child in extra well, scare away the monsters, and then walk out of the room with high hopes that your child will stay where you put them.  Is this typically the case?  Not at our house lately. Nope.  Not my son!  For some reason, he thinks that the reason we tuck him in each night is because we want to play Chinese fire drill after bedtime.  His version of Chinese fire drill consists of him sneaking out of his bed and running into Grandpa's room, where he convinces his Grandpa to read him a book.  I don't really blame my Dad, I mean, he forgets.  I would too with dementia.  But the boy, now the boy is a whole different story. 

Anyway, after we take my son back to bed around a half-dozen times he usually gives up on the seemingly futile attempt at escape and falls asleep.  Not for the last couple of nights. 

Let me give you some background on my son.  First of all, he loves to climb.  The kid would climb up the tiger cage at the zoo if I let him.  He also loves to hide.  Hide-and-seek is a favorite around our house.  The combination of climbing and hiding!  That prospect, for him, is absolutely a winner. 

That being said, this is where we found Ethan the night before last.  Not that this is much of a climb...but it is a fun place to escape from Mommy, Daddy, and the monsters.

No, that is not his tiny bedroom.  That is a cupboard.  Yeah, like the Indian in the cupboard, except this time it's an oversized two year old.  When he told us he wanted to sleep in the cabinet, we were like, yeah, right.  Like he'll actually fall asleep in there.  Well, he sure proved us wrong, didn't he??

Just goes to show you the biggest difference between adults and children is our lack of imagination.  I look in the cupboard and see extra storage.  He looked in the cupboard and saw a small space that monsters couldn't fit in, but he could.  And so he used that as a solution to his problem.  My son, the little genius!  I do think that this is going to be a bit of a habit from now on, though.  He was there again last night.  :)

Enjoy your kiddos readers.  They'll only fit into cupboards for a short period of time.  Next thing I know he'll be falling asleep in the shower.  :)

Don't worry! I'll do it!

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have to run everyone's lives for them?  I'm not talking about the kids...that's pretty much my job as a mother.  But I get so effing frustrated when I have to run my husband and my dad's lives too!  Especially my husband.  At least my dad has an excuse...senility is a bitch.  But why, oh why, oh my fuck gawd why do I have to personally hold my husband's hand for every tiny little thing? 

So today, I was expecting grant money from his school.  I finally convinced him that an education was going to be key to our future, but he has an issue with getting all of the forms filled out for his financial aid.  We pay out of pocket, which is fine because we are supposed to be getting our money, as of yesterday, no less.  But I check the bank account today, and is the money there?  No!  Of course not!  So I call the financial aid office to see what the hold up is.  The very nice lady on the phone says, "Yes, the paperwork is all turned in, and it is signed by you, but your husband didn't sign it.  We can't release the funds until we have his signature."  This was 3 weeks ago.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE DIDN'T SIGN IT??  I really thought I was married to a grown up, but apparently when I say, "Honey, all you have to do is sign this form and drop it off," that is too much information to process at one time. 

I am a patient woman, most of the time.  But this isn't a one time thing.  This is an every time thing.  I love my husband.  He is so sweet and loves me oh so much.  He does a lot.  Or at least he seems to do a lot.  But my patience is bound to run out at some point.  And that point is today. 

I am over it. And it's only 11:00 AM, so it's not like I can do anything about it right now.  Nope.  I have to sit here, by myself, pissed off, sober.  Because I have homework to do.  And a house to clean.  And an exam to take.  If you read my last blog you'll see that this is what I do.  Clean up shitty messes that other people leave.  Ugh.  And they wonder why I am so fucking stressed out sometimes.  It's okay honey, keep on not doing what you say you'll do.  Don't worry, I'll get that.  Oh, you didn't fix the washer?  Don't worry, I can do it.  You didn't pick up that ingredient?  Don't worry, I've got it.  You didn't put that in the laundry?  Oh, no don't even think about it. I've got it.  You didn't write that paper?  Don't worry, I'll help you.  You can't wipe your own ass?  Bend over honey, I'll get it for you.  It's okay.  I've got it.

I'm so fucking busy helping other people not worry that I've got premature wrinkles on my ass and dimples on my thighs from drowning my own anger in chocolate and coffee.  Shit. 

All in a day's time

8:00 AM.

I had to practically drag my little girl out of bed to go to her T-Ball tryouts this morning.  Do you know what she told me when I said it was time to wake up?  "I think we slept through it mom.  It's too late, go back to sleep."  Ha!  This was mumbled next to me in bed, because we ended up (again) with way too many bodies.  I really don't get the whole co-sleeping thing, because I can't handle all the feet and elbows and knees jamming into my face, back, legs, etc.

Anyway, we finally make it out the door to T-Ball tryouts, where she has a blast running around with the other kids and then has her chance to swing the bat, catch some balls (or at least attempt it), and then run as fast as she can down a baseline.  Both kids are already pretty worn out by the time we leave, because my son has been running about, terrorizing all of the kids that he can get to pay attention to him pretending to be Spiderman. 

10:30 AM
We leave T-ball and call a mom friend of mine with two kids of her own.  We decide to meet up at the mall, which has an indoor play area for small children.  I get to the mall and see about 20 munchkins crammed into the very small play area and take a deep breath.  Okay. 

"Shoes off kids!"  I say as I chase my son down to get his shoes.  He does this often, running away and giggling insanely as I impatiently ask him to come to mommy. 

"Hee hee, ha ha..."  This is his daily neener neener to me.  Little shit.  He thinks he is so funny, probably because he really is.

Moving on.  We wait for my friend Cyndi to arrive and then she does.  Pretty quickly after she gets there Emily has to pee.  Next its a fight to get her shoes back on so that we can walk to the bathroom without bare feet.  She just doesn't understand why she needs shoes.  She probably could have made it without them, but I'm taking precautions...who knows what's on the mall flooring??  Grabbing her and Zoe's hands (yup, now one of Cyndi's kids had to pee too), I start the short walk toward the bathroom. 

I hear a cry from my son, and I think it is in protest to me leaving him with Cyndi as supervision, so we continue walking to the bathroom.  No sooner had we exited than Cyndi comes walking up, arms full of bags and children, both Ethan and her son.  Ethan is crying, and what is that??? Blood!!!  Oh my god, what happened????

I grab my son and Cyndi tells me that he and her son ran directly into each other heading in opposite directions.  Her son's ridiculously hard head is just the right height to hit Ethan in the mouth, causing his incisor tooth to gash the interior of his poor little upper right lip.  It takes a lot to make my little boy cry, but trust me, he had to be in pain.  His right side looked like Angelina Jolie's baby while the left side was still normal and thin.  He was fine, just wanted his momma, so I soothed him softly as we walked out of the mall.  I looked at my phone to check what time it was...was this day over yet?

Only 11:15 A.M.!!!  Are you kidding me? 

We head to Chili's to grab a bite with the kids.  This day is already packed full of fun stories for my blog, and yet, it seems to not be over.  Poor Ethan.  He is in for a tough day.  Cyndi and I are in deep trivial conversation when Ethan says, "Mommy, I phrew up."

Good Lord.  This is insane.  Really?  And, myself, being the well-prepared mother that everyone knows I am, have absolutely no extra clothes.  Well, the food is already ordered, we're going to have to wait.  So I take him to the bathroom and clean him up. 

Lunch finishes with no more incidents, Cyndi and I say our goodbyes, and we head home.  The kids get put down for rest time, and I settle onto the computer to get some homework tended to.  Did I mention that the amount of homework I have this weekend is absolutely ludicrous?  I should be doing it right now, but I'm writing this blog...heheheee...

2:40 PM
After nap we head to another friend's birthday party.  Ethan seems fine at this point, so I attribute the lovely display earlier to him drinking his apple juice too fast.  We're driving in the car to go pick up my other friend's son Jaidon and take him to the party as well, when all of a sudden my daughter screams, "Mommy!!!!  Ethan is puking again!"

I glance in my rearview mirror, always positioned on the kids and see my son shooting yellow mucousy nastiness from his mouth.  The poor guy starts to cry and I am at a loss...what do I do?  Jaidon's mom is still at work, she can't pick him up.  I have to!  What about Ethan?  He can't go to a birthday party like this! 

My hero of a husband ended up picking up Ethan and taking him home to lay around all day, and the birthday party was a success, but here I am now, not out with my friends, who did invite me for drinks, I'll have you know. 

10:15 PM

Nope, I'm here, doing laundry and homework at the same time, stuck like Chuck.  But I did get to sing my babies to sleep tonight.  Plus I've got a nice bottle of Pino Grigio in the fridge.  It may just be a great evening after all.

Little rascal

My son is a monkey.  I swear.  The kid can climb pretty much anything he so desires.  It's amazing.  He knows that if he can't reach it, a stool might.  If the stool isn't tall enough, get a chair.  If the chair doesn't do it, get the bar stool.  At least all he is usually reaching for is bananas.  I guess if that's the extent I'm pretty lucky.  For some reason however, in all of his 2 1/2 years he has not even entertained the idea of climbing up to put his happy ass on the potty.  Until today.  And I was really starting to believe we might send him to high school in diapers.

Today we started potty training, officially.  So what if we've had a few other official starts before?  He is getting too big to be running around in a stinky diaper!  And I'm tired of wiping his ass!  Especially when he doesn't particularly enjoy it either...that makes it unpleasant all the way around. 

Last night we talked about big boy underwear.  He really really loves the idea of big boy underwear, so I think I might have found a reason for him to be happy with potty training.  We went to the mall today and he had 0 accidents while we were out.  I was fully prepared with three extra pairs of underwear and pants, but he did me proud.  :)

He even sat on the big potty at the mall, which is HUGE!  Not the potty, but the fact that he sat on it.  He really hates sitting on the potty too, which is hard for me, because I'm not exactly an expert and teaching a little man how to grap his weiner and pee standing up.  Do us a favor and consult your Higher Power for us, okay?  We really need to get this no more diapers thing down.  I really want to eliminate Pampers from our budget. 

Yup, this is my life.  People make shitty messes and I clean them up.  The upside is that after everything is cleaned up I can sit back and enjoy a tall vodka soda with lime.  :)

Welcome to our city!

Meltdown City.  That's where I was.  Smackdab in the middle of Meltdown City.  I am at a loss for how to control this city.  I couldn't tell you how we arrived here, but I know that I am supposed to be the ruler, and be able to apply logic and reason and order to an otherwise chaotic existence in Meltdown City.  I am, after all, the mother.  So why can't I find a logical reason for my little girl to clean her room without tears and foot stomping and door slamming and screaming (her, not me this time)?  I just can't seem to get a grasp on this.  Tell me why I am I trying to be logical and calm with my child.  I am being patient, understanding, providing answers, explaining consequences...I am supposed to be trained in dealing with illogical thought processes, so how in the world am I supposed so deal with my job if I can't even convince my own child of how to come to a conclusion that will satisfy her need to understand?

So there I sit, at the dinner table, trying to decide what to do next.  I have spent literally 3 or more hours calmly explaining to my child the what, why, how, and when of cleaning her room.  I gave her a choice, I gave her direction, I gave her the consequences of whatever choice she decided to make, and yet none of this was getting through to her. She is in her room, throwing things, hating me, hating the world, hating everything about it.  She even told me that her feet, legs, and arms hurt in order to provide an excuse for why she couldn't possibly clean her room.  Amazing.

I finally tell her calmly that she can clean her room or not clean her room.  If she made the decision to clean it up then she could come out, eat dinner with the family, and play a game of Candyland with all of us.  If she decided not to clean, the consequence would be that she had to remain in her room for the rest of the evening, including eating dinner alone in her room.
 
Apparently this was the key.  Isolation during dinner was the most awful thing that she could think of at that time, and so after freaking out a bit more she decided to hurry up and get those books on the shelf so that she wouldn't have to eat her dinner all alone.  It's amazing what makes our children tick.  You hope and pray that the choices that you make with them and for them are the correct ones, but it's times like these that you realize you are putting their values in the right place.  All of these family dinners at the table ARE important to them.  I am doing a good thing by making sure we spend at least some time together each night, because otherwise she wouldn't have cared to miss out!

Hooray for Meltdown City!!