I know, I know, It’s been a while since I updated the blog. I’m still recovering from our trip to Texas.
With airline fares sky high, we made plans to drive to Texas for Thanksgiving. So, we left after Ann’s morning of work on Tuesday, piled the kids and all their accoutrements (hey, that word even stumps the spellchecker) into the car and headed for Shreveport. This is our favorite place to stay when traveling to Texas because we can stay on the base there. The next morning we got up at 5 to be on the road by 6 and get to Dallas by 9ish. I could have sworn I told this plan to my mom and dad and Brian’s sister, but I think they didn’t quite believe us (and what normal person gets a 2 year old and a 6 year old up at 5?) so at about 8:45 when I called to let them know we were almost there, they were about to head out for breakfast.
No problem, we just crashed at LouAnna’s (no problem for us, anyway. I think my aunt didn’t get breakfast - Sorry Lou!) We promptly spread a large quantity of plastic toys underfoot, and much fun was had by all.
This was actually the first time some of my family got to meet Jackson and even Riley, although Jackson’s reputation preceded him. We all went our for sushi the night before Thanksgiving. Jackson had missed his nap, and was yelling at the top of his lungs in the car while kicking the back of Brian’s seat. It did not bode well for dinner. Unfortunately, we’re quite used to eating in shifts. After we order and it becomes clear that Jax is annoying the other restaurant patrons, one parent waits quietly inside and makes polite conversation with Riley, while the other supervises Jax running in circles while shouting “PIE-POUR-TWEE-TOO-ONE... BLASTOFF!” at the top of his lungs outside the restaurant. And so it was with this restaurant trip. I got to wait inside since it was mostly my family, and Brian had Jackson outside. Once the food got to the table, Brian and Jax joined us again. We’re so used to Jax not eating much that we’re always taken aback when he does eat. We know that Riley typically consumes a large quantity of sushi and therefore plan accordingly. However even she surprised us. She consumed all 6 pieces of Tuna Nigiri (she was somewhat daunted by the wasabi, but it didn’t slow her down much) and then started in on my sushi rolls and udon noodles. The waitress had put my udon down in front of Jax, and before I though to rescue it, he’s already consumed all the tempura squash and shrimp, then decided the noodles were too hot, so he also set out to eat all my sushi rolls. By the time they’d ravaged the majority of my dinner, Jax was bored and decided it was time to go potty.
About Jackson’s potty-training... we were under the gun to get him trained last summer so that he could go to the Montessori preschool. So, we finally managed some semblance of bladder control, but he still had about 4-15 accidents a day (not an exaggeration. Usually it was around 10. We have 26 pairs of little boys underwear, and we’re always running out). We would dutifully put him in underwear in the morning and send him to school with 4 spare outfits in a plastic bag, and by noon he would come home with 2-4 wet pants in the same plastic bag. It was clearly not going well. I had mentioned to his teacher that we could go back to pull-ups, but she was certain he would come around. Then about a month ago she gave up, and now he’s in pull-ups full time. These days he reserves requests to go potty to times when it would either be inconvienent or impossible for him to find a potty (the highway on the way to catch a plane in Pensacola. At least with a little boy it’s easy to pull off and let him pee into the bushes on the side of the road, all the while fervently hoping 1) that he completely forgets about this option when he’s playing outside at preschool and 2)that no one driving by calls the cops.)
So, back to the sushi restaurant. Jackson not only had to go potty, but he had to go potty BY HIMSELF. He was adamant about this, and I kept trying to follow but he’d turn around and push me back saying “NO MOMMY, YOU STAY HERE. I GO BY MYSEFF”. After several attempts to explain why this was not an acceptable course of action in a public place, I finally scooped him up screaming and carried him to the restroom. This was a smaller restaurant, and there was only one single mens and one single women’s restroom, and the women’s was occupied. Rather than wait and have Jackson continue pounding on the door while some poor woman is trying to go, I figured “Heck, he’s a boy, he can use the men’s.” I pointed this our to Jax and he agreed, but was not about to accept any more help from me. So I watched him struggle to open the door to the restroom for a couple of minutes before I attempted to assist. “NO MOMMY, I DO IT BY MYSSEF” Fine. After another couple of minutes he cried “MOMMY, HEP ME!” and I held the door open for him, only to be told once he was inside, “ NO MOMMY, YOU STAY HERE. I GO BY MYSEFF”
This was going to be an interesting potty trip. I waited patiently outside the door with my eye to the smallest opening I could manage without provoking an outburst from Jackson, all the while the patrons and the nearby table eyed me suspiciously. I still couldn’t quite make out what was going on inside, and periodically had to actually pop my head in and check on him. Each check was met with screams of protestation and a hand put up to stop me with “NO MOMMY, I DO IT BY MYSSEF”
Check #1: Jackson standing at the potty to pee, seat up.
2: Jackson sitting on the potty, seat down.
3: Jax hanging off of the sink
(loud screeching of metal on wood)
4: Jax commandeering the chair from one side of the bathroom and pushing it to the other side of the bathroom.
5: Jax standing at the sink, on the chair, water at full force while he emptied what appeared to be the entire contents of the soap dispenser into his hands and onto the floor.
(chair screeching)
6: Jax standing at the paper towel dispenser, on the chair, pulling off those miniscule bits of paper towel that you get when your hands are wet, throwing them on the floor and trying again.
At this point I intervened. There was water running, paper towels all over the floor and we’d monopolized the men’s room long enough for me to send two or three legitimate men’s room candidates to the womens room with my apologies. Jax was somewhat indignant, but complied, and then ran out of the bathroom, up to the nearby table and let out a blood-curdling, high pitched shriek. I was close behind, and scooped him up, one arm restraining his arms around his torso and the other clamped over his mouth, while I sprinted out the front door with my apologies to the other patrons and the startled waitress and sushi chefs. Once outside I gave him a “holding” time out - where I physically restrain his arms and legs in a cradle hold and mutter “you can NOT do that” while he giggles gleefully.
Then I let him run a couple of circles before we go back into the restaurant, where I smile innocently at the perplexed expressions of the waitstaff as well as the comments from my family about how good he’s being.
Funny, I don’t ever see other moms dealing with this... maybe it’s just me.
