I haven’t wiped a child’s ass in years, I remember those days though. I was a bit ahead of the game when it came to becoming a mother, so now my friends have begun potty training their little ones while I’m over here with a nine year old who can make his own breakfast & shower himself.
I actually consider myself an expert in the area of getting a kid to stop wearing diapers and I’m happy to share my genius on the subject of potty training, so here you go.
Fail Proof Way To Potty Train Your Offspring
Take the kid to a store that sells awesome underwear.
Allow your kid to pick out their most favorite pack of CHARACTER UNDIES
Important: They must love the character they choose.
On the trek home get super animated and excited about going to the bathroom on the big kid toilet; don’t hold back.
Once the kiddo has the underoos on, tell them this:
If you pee on Elsa/Mickey/Buzzlight Year… he/she is going to be so mad at you. Honestly kid, I don’t think they’d even let you watch their shows anymore.
Should your kid pee on their friend, it doesn’t have to be dramatic. I’m not a heartless mother. Not surprisingly, my kid pissed on his favorite. I got Lightning McQueen on the phone and begged him to let my offspring continue to watch Cars if he promised not to pee on him anymore… and that was that, worked like a charm.
Simply tell them that you’ll have a chat with their friend and see if they’ll forgive the act of being pee’d on; to your kid, especially at that age, you are capable of anything.
News stories that involve awful parents & kids in unfortunate situations are nothing foreign to the typical Nancy Grace fan, such as myself.
It’s almost shameful that it’s a form of entertainment. It doesn’t bring pleasure, or happiness when they describe what’s happened to innocent children who don’t stand a chance. As a mother, or possibly just as a [normal] human being I have a hard time comprehending how anyone can knowingly & willingly harm someone so harmless. It’s brought to an entirely different level when the offense is being committed by one of the few people the victim is supposed to be protected by.
Early Thursday morning a beautiful 5 year old girl, named Phoebe Jonchuck was thrown off a bridge in Florida by her father, John Jonchuck.
Jonchuck asked Torres [his custody attorney] to read a Bible in Swedish. He told her she was God, the Creator. He asked Torres to accompany him to a church so he could be baptized. She refused, and he told her to stop the case.
“Don’t file the paperwork,” he told her. “It’s not going to matter anymore.”
“He’s out of his mind, and he has a minor child with him driving to the church now,” Torres told a 911 operator afterward.
Hillsborough County sheriff’s deputies found Jonchuck and Phoebe at St. Paul’s Catholic Church on N Dale Mabry Highway, where he was meeting with a priest to join the flock.
Jonchuck told them God had spoken to him in the past, according to a Sheriff’s Office report. He said that “he did not feel like hurting himself or anyone else.”
Deputies determined he was healthy, not a threat, and that Phoebe appeared happy.
I can’t help but wonder if the police knew the caliber of that 911 call. I question what they thought he meant when he said, “It’s not going to matter anymore”.
It didn’t take long for this to make national news.
Blogger, Janie Porter very gracefully authored an open letter that quickly went viral to this little girl; she said and challenged what so many of us wish we had the ability to.
It’s not fair that my son can say, “Mama?” in his sweet, hollow, innocent tone, and I can respond immediately, but you didn’t have anyone to call on during the most terrifying final seconds of your life.
When I was younger I believed that parental instinct was a natural thing that happened to everyone who procreated. Something I’ve learned is that people actually exist who are incapable of providing the type of love deserved to children that they brought into this world. These selfish beings do not know how to place any individual in front of themselves.
I want to know what justice will be served for the innocent kids who depend on the county & government to protect them when their parents choose not to. I want to know what these monsters have to say for themselves. I want to understand the incomprehensible. Rarely does the punishment fit the crime & seldom after the justice system has ran its course do I feel any better about these tragedies.
This is the reason these heart wrenching stories become a part of me; the reason why I can’t shake them. Who was there for Caylee Anthony? Who was there for Haleigh Cummings?
Who was there for Phoebe Jonchuck?
I remember my dad always saying…
You need a license to fish. You need a license to drive a vehicle. You need a license tend a bar…
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living my baby you’ll be. -R. Munsch
I was scared crapless, you were not. Lots & lots of crap…more crap than I ever thought humanly possible.
You learned to roll over & I lost all ability to take a long, careless shower.
It wasn’t long after you mastered crawling that you were taking your first steps. Ambitious as ever, you started running & learned quickly that hills can be dangerous when you got that scar on your forehead.
Your first favorite word? Hi. Hi. Hiiiii.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of a Friday night in. Before we knew it…you were two.
You hated being dirty; this was the cleanest year in the history of you. There was no tolerance in your little body for sticky hands or muddy pants; and for that…I was thankful. [I trained you well].
We had many conversations – mostly silly nonsense that gradually became more & more logical. This is the year your gears started turning & never stopped. The year you started asking why.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of curiosity. Before we knew it…you were three.
Your independence & yoursilly began to show this year; constantly on a mission with a giggle.
Your you-ness began to shine. If there was any chance you’d grab someones attention – there was nothing off limits.
Your giggle was infectious and still is, every so often…it’s the same at eight.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of slowing down to laugh. Before we knew it…you were four.
Your ability to make friends where ever you go was becoming the norm.
Your little heart, always in the right place [you get your people-pleasing gene from your mother].
You certainly were not a baby anymore… and reminded me often my assistance was not needed.
My most favorite photograph of the two of us was taken this year.
Fun Fact: Dad was behind those yellow flowers – making them all pretty like for us.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of raising a little boy. Before we knew it…you were five.
The very first year of T-Ball…
Most days, that’s how you felt about it.
As the season progressed you continued to practice & try your best.
By the end of the season – you were more like this…
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of patience. Before we knew it…you were Six.
As a new 6 year old you raised $360.00 for Special Olympics & jumped into a pool of ice water – for a good cause.
I was proud of you then & I’m still proud of you today.
Later this year… you danced until you dropped at Mom & Dad’s wedding.
You stole the show & that was a-okay with us.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of being a Boggs. Before we knew it…you were Seven.
You were toothless for a while.
You chatted up the ladies.
You took selfies.
You made me flowers for mothers day.
You stole my heart…just like you have every other year.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of life. Before we knew it…you were Eight.
Today… you’re half way to being able to legally drive a car.
Happy Birthday My Love.
This is the year I will rapidly learn the value of something.
No matter what it is, I’m happy you’re the inspiration behind it.
Update: December 8, 2015: Another Year Older.
The beginning of this year had some rough patches, you got it together and showed your ability to overcome less than desirable situations… like changing schools.
By the time 3rd grade rolled around, you met new friends, rode your bike around the block by yourself for the first time and proved you could officially eat more than me.
We met Harry, the only other redhead that’s as cool as you are…
and you were the most awesome Halloween sidekick there ever was…
This is the year I rapidly learned the valueof your individuality. We got a grasp on how to be – and how to raise a big kid. Before we know it… double-digits.
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
Mom, I have an idea…were the first words out of my son’s mouth when I woke him up for school. He’s a bright kid, so I’m always anxious to hear what’s going on in his busy mind.
“Can we both stay home today so I don’t have to go another whole day without seeing you?”
We just moved & I spent the entire last weekend cleaning & emptying our old place. Monday came around & I left for work at approximately 7:45am; immediately after work I ventured over to a marketing class that I’m taking on Monday nights. During a class break, I called my son to tell him goodnight – ask how his day at school was & he was fast asleep by the time I got home at 10:00pm.
I miss my kid.
Not that I’m proud to say it…but, I have probably been more absent in the day-to-day life of my kiddo in the past few weeks than ever before; keeping in mind that this is all for the best.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” — Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
This too shall pass, is what they say…whoever they are, they seem to have their crap together so I’ll take their word for it. I wish I knew who to thank for that short statement that puts things in perspective.
I am bettering my son’s life, my husband’s life & my own by accomplishing these tasks that take time. While this is the worst of times – I miss my family, I miss me time, I miss being bored…this is still the best of times.
Have patience with all things, But, first of all with yourself. -Saint Francis de Sales
Balance is a lovely thing I’ve stumbled upon recently.
I will take the time I get to spend with the people who hold my heart – and give them my undivided attention. I will take the time to expand my knowledge to secure our future & give that my undivided attention. I will find the time to unpack and make our new house a home… & give that my undivided attention…
…all at the right time.
I’m thankful for the best & worst right now, for they will ultimately determine my destination. I may not know where I’m headed quite yet – but I’m moving in the correct direction, of that I’m sure.
I have reached the ‘Duuuuude’ stage of raising a boy. Another bittersweet milestone.
As unsentimental as it may seem, the word (silly as it may be) is another turning point.
Duuuuuuude – DIDJA SEE THAT?!
…each carrying a different, sharp tone.
There is no retreating away from… “Dude”.
My little adorable boy… is now a farting, burping, dude-saying little man.
It’s like this new stage of motherhood (and fatherhood?…I don’t know. Is it the same for guys?)
He’s just…not little anymore. Who knew the word “dude” would hold this… kind-of weird, grey cloud over my head.
After further thought…I’ve decided that you guys are not lumped into this range of emotions – this is, more-than-likely the stage you’ve been waiting for all along. So for that – congratulations, guys…You’ve made it through the baby/toddler/little phase.
What Happens The First Time Your Son Says: “Dude”.
Did you hear that?!…There was UMPH behind that ‘Duuude’. That’s funny…
My kid be like:
And then, I call him over to give him a hug…aaand… to make sure I could still pick him up…