Another Milestone.

It is no secret that my older boy, about to turn 4 is a smart kid. He knew his ABC's visually and orally, and could count to 10 in two languages at the tender age of 18 months. I was so proud of him.

Josh excelled at everything we threw at him be it language, motor skills, reasoning, dressing himself, you name it. Except for one thing, pooping on the potty. Josh learned right away how to go pee pee and was good at it. Lesson learned, end of story. I was quite pleased. But he would not for the life of me go to the toilet to do number 2. I would have him sit on the pot and coax, threaten,  and ultimately bribe him to go. No way, no how. He would sit there and look at me and whine that he could not. I would ignore his protest and chant, "Poop, poop, poop!" like it was a mantra. I could not believe my little prodigy could not "make" like the other little urchins who had it mastered a year before.

I read articles I talked to other parents. They said that he would  follow his own schedule and not to worry. Well I worried. I encouraged, I argued. I let him know that if he cannot go like the other kids he would not be allowed in preschool, something he wants pretty bad now. I tried explaining that if I had to buy less diapers it might increase his chances of getting a cool toy. I tried reasoning with him about long term consequences such as how his prom tux wont fit right over his pull ups. He was not giving in. I finally surrendered.

A few months passed and I decided to have another talk with the boy. I asked him to try again. He decided to give it a go and sat down. He asked me to give him privacy and a few minutes later YAHTZEE!!! He was grinning ear to ear, and I was ecstatic. I told him how proud I was, and we made a big deal over it. I hugged him and gave him a treat, and would have taken a picture, but his mommy drew the line at that. I guess she did not want me Face Booking that sort of image. Oh and I would have too. Some of you may remember how I announced the pregnancy with Josh as a single picture of the positive E.P.T. device. no words, just the picture.

Since then he has done great. I keep making sure to tell him how proud he makes me cause he can poop in the toilet now. 

Life moved on.

A few weeks have gone by. I have been stricken with the local crud that is going around. What is it about mid January anyway? The holidays came and went with no real illness. The new year arrives and everything looks great. Then the whole office get sick. It always starts with one person too. The one that refuses to work at home when they are sick, because it somehow seems reasonable to come and infect the whole office. I hate those people, mostly cause they always insist they are not contagious, then the next day everyone else gets the flu. A couple of days pass by and I am really feeling poorly. I am running to the bathroom a lot, sneezing, achy, and runny nose. I finally took a day off from work just to sleep. I made it to the bed, but as it turns out, I would have gotten more peace and quiet at the office. Every time I started to drift off to sleep one of the kids would come in the room wanting me to read a story, or buy them a pet elephant or get them some ice cream from Dairy Queen. Never mind that every time I got up, I ended up racing to the bathroom to puke or have another bout of diarrhea. I finally closed the door and lay down. As soon as I drifted off, bam, Bam, BAM! on the door. I moaned, "What NOW?" Josh barked back through the door, "Daddy, I want to tell you sumpthin." I slowly get up and limp to the door. " What is it boy?" Josh is standing there with a loving look, and says "Daddy, I am so proud of you for pooping in the toilet!" Me; "Don't be so sure kid."

Well, what was I supposed to say?

New Year, Same Life.

I had high hopes. I vowed tangible changes would happen. We would leave our old problems behind. A new year, a new outlook on life, a new beginning. In anticipation of a new start, I even tried to get a jump on things and attempted to start my resolutions early. I did not over eat during the holidays and I tried to be calmer with the kids. I tried to stop worrying so much. I made a vow to try harder to be on time to everything.

On New Years Eve, I stood outside by myself, thinking about what I wanted to change, and how I would be different in the future. My resolve was strong, and I was happy and confident that at midnight I would be a completely new man.

As I slipped into bed shortly after midnight, my wife asked me if I had taken a shower in order to symbolically not carry anything from 2011 into 2012. She seemed a little incredulous that I had overlooked something as profound as a ritual cleansing. It was not good enough that I had showered earlier in the day. I think that somehow I was supposed to realize that there was a need to not carry my old self into the new year. It got me wondering though. How was I supposed to rid myself of the old in a way that did not carry over into the new year? I mean, technically at what point do you step out of the shower and not take last years horror with you? You would have to get out of the tub and towel off at precisely 12 midnight, one second before or after and you may as well never showered at all. I might add that explaining this to Dessy did not help my case and I think I ruined the chance for a fresh start of another New Year for her. 

Sunday morning, January 1st, I woke up started to get the kids ready for church, of course half an hour later than I really should have gotten up. Arrived at church 5 minutes late of course. Josh informed me that he had to go to the bathroom, so while I took care of his needs, Dessy rushed off to work in the nursery. Upon exiting the boys room I was informed that there were no children's classes that morning so Josh had to come sit with me. The word "sit" is really a relative term in this case. Josh was squirming, twisting and could not decide if he wanted to stand or kneel in his chair. Everyone was singing the opening songs, and I decided that Josh could look at pictures on my phone. I was sure this would entertain him in a very quiet manner. The last song came to an end, and the pastor stood up to make the announcement that we should all be seated. I was waiting for the word to sit and suddenly there in the middle of the sanctuary, in front of God and all the angels, Josh decided to play Angry Birds. The music cut through the attitude of solemn worship and I reached for the phone to turn it off. Then Josh before handing it back, LOCKED IT!!!! Everyone else sat as I stood there in utter panic, trying to punch in the password. I sat down and saw people whispering and pointing at me. I could feel my blood pressure rising. I set down the phone and looked up toward the front of the church trying hard to be less conspicuous. As the pastor gave his opening remarks, Josh sneakily took my phone and turned on the Angry Bird game AGAIN!!! I guess you get better with practice, so I was able to shut it off quicker that time.

I took a few deep breaths trying to calm down. Josh looked at me and whispered, "Daddy, I need to go to the bathroom." I whispered back that he had just gone and that we needed to listen to sermon. Josh responded rather well to this and sat quietly like a good boy. Just kidding, He put his head down started crying and wailed, "Daddy, I am going to pee my pants!!!" I grabbed Josh, the phone, the kid's coat and took him back to the bathroom. Of course when he tried to go to the toilet, he let go with all of two drops. I dare not re-enter the sanctuary after all this so we sat in a side room and listened to the sermon. Or at least I tried. Josh was pretty content to be able to sit near me and ask questions about the pictures on the wall, the decor and why there was a throbbing purple vein on my forehead.

After the service was concluded, I tried to sneak out the front door, but was stopped cold by the Pastor. He put his hand on my shoulder, his eyes dancing. He informed me that a couple of the teenage boys were hoping to give me hints on how to play angry birds in silent mode so that next time I would not get caught.

Happy New year.