Regional Opposite Week

My children are getting the better of me. I am the parent, right? The adult in basically every situation? Yes. So, in theory, what I say should go. But for some reason, this week, my two monsters have decided that what I may ask of them is not only outlandish (i.e. sleeping through the night or going pee on the potty) but worthy of staging a mutiny against me.

First and foremost, Thaddeus:
I wanted to get him both in his own room and sleeping for an eight hourish stretch this week. I thought I did what the sleep-trainers suggest (although I haven't bought that one book yet, Wendy, but I frikin plan on it!), and you all know how nights one and two panned out. Well, night three was worse. He woke up every three hours like clockwork. He got his cereal, bath and book and was down by 6:30. Then 9:30 rolled around, and Mr. Man decided he was hungry again. Fine. Then came 12:30, then 3:3o, then 6:30. Six ounces down the gullet each time. I, of course, was on some kind of Zoloft high, so I couldn't sleep. As soon as I decided it was time to attempt, T.J. started a-fussin'. We'll see how tonight goes. Tomorrow I will be buying the aforementioned text and every.other.book. in the section. And, since I ran on three hours of sleep and fumes of crazy today, Matt has been banished to snore a lonely night on the couch (he's really loud!).

Second and hysterical, Aurelia:
Every night, while the water is filling her bathtub, I undress Aurelia and tell her it's time to go pee-pee on the potty. She knows pee-pee; she knows potty, but she has yet to put the two together. She sits on the toilet for about 10 seconds before squirming down and getting into the tub. Sometimes she stands and promptly pees into the bathwater. Which is supposed to be cleansing. Eh. Other times she is more subtle. But this week....oh, this week. Nothing has changed, really, except that I let my stock of Aurelia-diapers dwindle in a subconscious anticipation of a potty-trained girl child. (But how could she have picked up on that??) Something in her brain clicked, and she determined that since I wanted her to pee in the potty, I must not want her to pee in her diaper. And if she isn't peeing in her diaper, surely the best place to pee is probably on the step stool while she's brushing her teeth (don't ask why we brush our teeth before putting on pajamas; we just do--but we won't anymore!). Or, even better, she should run around air-drying, as Matthew puts it and stop to pee in the infant tub that Thaddeus has outgrown. (I wasn't present for this one, and I will admit I was impressed she squatted in a container versus on the floor... but only briefly because apparently she was just hanging out in the "canoe" and ended up going in there...)

I am a little grossed out by what the girl child has been up to, and you are more than welcome to feel the same. I don't know what I really expected when I desperately wanted babies. I must have known that one day, my house would be covered in pee... In any case, I know a few new mothers read this noise, and you can't say I didn't warn you.

(Also, Aurelia got stuck in a basket today. She learned a new word--stuck, but not to stop sitting in containers that are too small to fit her.)