I have most of my Christmas shopping done! I spent all day Saturday braving the crowds, getting jostled by oblivious texters while walking crowded walkways. I seriously can’t stand people who text and conveniently forget that the world around them continues to revolve.

Oh yeah. Speaking of texters, I was almost hit the other day by a moron who was texting while driving (again. This seems to happen nearly every time I drive). I was passing her in the left lane because she apparently didn’t have the brainpower to keep her speed consistant… it varied drastically. So anyway, as I was passing her, I noticed she was looking down more than she was looking at the road. And then she veered into my lane and nearly hit me and Nathan as she was looking down.

People who text and drive aren’t the brightest crayons in the box. They are apparently clueless that they have greatly increased their odds of crashing and injuring someone because of their own self-absorption. They are thinking only about themselves and what THEY want.  I just hope that neither me or any of my family members or friends are hurt because of such brazen acts of sheer stupidity and self-centeredness.

So anyway, I braved the masses, hit some awesome sales, and got just about everything I needed to get for Christmas. I’m not usually able to get everything done this far ahead of time, so it’s nice to be able to relax and not stress as Christmas Day approaches.

In other news, Nathan is still being a bit ornery. This child is incredibly strong-headed and stubborn, and he keeps doing things he knows he’s not supposed to do just to test us and see what we will do about it. His most recent mischief involves climbing up onto his bookshelf to retrieve the baby powder. While I was distracted. On the computer. Can you guess where I am going with this?

Not only did he dump the baby powder all over his dresser, but he tried to pry the safety lock off one of the drawers. We’ve been having issues keeping it adhered to the dresser, and Nathan has been taking full advantage of this weakness. No big deal… it’s just clothes in there… but still. It’s the principle.

And now he is in time-out for climbing on top of his toy chest and messing with his radio (which is off limits!). I was on the computer, beginning to type this post (it seems most of his mischief occurs when I’m writing in this blog) and then I suddenly hear music blaring from his radio. I storm into his room only to catch him standing on the floor, smiling sweetly.

LIKE HE THOUGHT I WOULDN’T FIGURE IT OUT.

Take last night, for example. Part of his bedtime routine includes me singing to him before we say our prayers. When I finished singing, I started reciting The Lord’s Prayer (which he loves… When I’m reciting it, I’ll pause and Nathan will say the next word) when all of a sudden, Nathan started flapping around in my lap like some sort of fish being electrocuted.

“What’s wrong, Nathan?” I asked, perplexed.

“I MAD AT YOU!” he replied. Wow. He’s never articulated his feelings to me before.

“Ok. Are you mad at me because you wanted more songs?”

“Yes,” he said sullenly.

“I understand. I really do. You’re allowed to be mad at me all you want, but throwing a tantrum when you’re mad is unacceptable. We’re done singing. Now it’s time to pray and then bed. Are you now ready to say our prayers so you can go night night?”

“Okay. Yes,” he whispered.

And that’s not the only new development. Yesterday, my mom took us to look for Christmas gifts. We didn’t get home until around 3:30 or so. I anticipated taking Nathan directly to bed to nap but needed to change his diaper first. Nathan balked at the prospect and started saying “NO! Go pee pee in the potty!” I replied that it was nap time and we could try when he got up. When I went to change his diaper, I was surprised to discover his diaper was completely dry. So I ushered him into the bathroom, sat him on his potty, and LO-AND-BEHOLD he peed!!

That was the first time he’d ever told me he needed to go potty… and then actually went! He was so proud of himself that he jumped up from the potty and did a little dance. And I was right there dancing with him!

He’s also starting to really take off with his reading. He has most of his books memorized, so oftentimes I’ll have him “read” to me. The other night, he sat in my lap and read The Little Red Caboose to me. Paul peeked through the door and watched us as Nathan relayed the adventures to me. As he was watching, he noticed that when Nathan hesitated, his eyes would scan the page looking for a cue. Although technically Nathan doesn’t know how to read yet, he recognizes a lot of words, but that was the first time Nathan’s ever scanned a page to remember what word or sentence comes next.

My mom said I was the same way. I also started recognizing words and “reading” to my parents when I was really little. The funny thing is that I remember it (I don’t remember my age at the time, but Mom told me I was almost three). I remember my parents being so shocked and proud of me for reading… but I felt incredibly guilty because I knew I wasn’t actually reading. I didn’t know how. I just recognized a ton of words.

Of course, in retrospect, I see that recognizing words is one of the first steps to learning how to read. Nathan has an incredible memory, so I’m not surprised that he’s memorized a lot of words and knows what the word looks like when spelled. I’m super excited to nourish his love for reading so can hopefully continue to love books through adulthood.

My baby is growing up. And it’s happening alarmingly fast.

So today, I walked past him as he was playing in his room. I heard him say, “Time to clean up!” and as I peeked my head through the door, I saw him picking up his Hot Wheels, one in each hand, and transporting them to their proper place into the basket on the toy shelf. He did this multiple times until all 50+ Hot Wheels were picked up off the floor.

I could not be more proud. I know plenty of adults who are too lazy to clean up after themselves, so seeing my two-year-old do it without any prompting makes me feel like I’m doing something right. I tell him all the time how important it is to clean up after himself because if he doesn’t do it, then that means someone else has to, and that’s not right.

For instance, I used to be a waitress when I was 16 years old. And out of all the different people that I served, guess who I hated waiting on the most? FAMILIES WITH KIDS. I especially hated, HATED waiting on the families with small children. Why, you ask? Well, because the majority of all the parents that came in apparently thought it was perfectly fine and “normal” for their kids to fling food all over the table and floor, spill drinks, be disruptive, and make the most God-awful messes I’ve ever seen. And the kicker? The reason why I hated serving them so much, aside from the irritation of dealing with a child who has no discipline?

SHITTY TIPPERS.

I tell you, parents with messy kids tended to leave the saddest tips I’d ever seen. You see, servers don’t get paid crap. At the time (over a decade ago), the hourly rate was $2.13 an hour, and to this day, it still hasn’t gone up to minimum wage. That’s because servers are expected to make up the difference with tips. So here I am, busting my ass cleaning up after these bratty little booger-crusted hellions and for next to nothing. No matter how great of a server I was… never letting their drinks empty, bringing their orders out in a timely manner, etc… they still only left a dollar or two. Even if that tip was 10-20% of their bill, when they allow their child(ren) to leave such a horrendous mess, they should tip more because the server now has to go above and beyond to take care of something the parents apparently didn’t have the capacity to take care of themselves. And the more time I had to spend cleaning up after a table, the less turnover I had, the less tables I could wait on, and the less money I could make.

It was really such a welcome relief when the few families with well-behaved, respectful kids came in. That’s probably why whenever we go out to eat, our server inevitably comments on how well-behaved Nathan is.

Here’s the deal. People who let their kids make these disgusting messes pretty much look like complete Parenting Failures to all who observe them. Typically speaking, the messy kids are also the ones throwing tantrums, screaming, standing up in their seats, flinging food across the room, climbing up on top the tables, being disruptive and disturbing the other patrons, etc etc etc etc. Lazy parenting at it’s best, folks. So what gives me the right to say that?  Well, my two-year-old would LOVE to do those things. I’ve never, NEVER allowed him to drop his food on the floor, take food off his plate or play with it, stand up in his seat, climb on the table, or any of that. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely tries. But I am the PARENT. It’s my job to prepare him for the next stage in life, and letting him do all those things teaches him nothing but how to be self-absorbed, entitled, and bratty. My child will not be allowed to be a brat. I know he is capable of better, therefore I expect more of him. I teach him what I expect of him when we’re at the table. And when he doesn’t comply, there are consequences (like putting him in time out, for example. And there have been many, many times I’ve had to get up from the table, take him outside, and put him in time out for not minding me at the table.)

Time and time again, I see parents “check out” while their kid runs amok at restaurants.

There is no excuse. None. Put on your big girl (or boy) panties and BE A PARENT. Teach your child the right way to behave. It’s not the kids’ fault that their parents suck, and believe me they will pay for your failures as they grow into adults, and that’s not fair to the child.  They usually end up becoming bratty, self-absorbed and entitled adults who won’t be able to get far in life.  What a shame.

I can’t stand to see bad parenting because it’s so selfish on the parents’ part and is nothing but detrimental to the child. Your child deserves better. Your child deserves a parent who is going to at least TRY mold them into becoming a responsible adult. I have friends whom I am embarrassed to go eat with because their own children, who are older than my son, are hellions at the table. When we leave the restaurant, my son’s area is clean. There is no food on the floor, no spilled drinks (I understand it’s inevitable, but some kids spill their drink nearly every single time they eat) and no disruptions such as standing up in his chair or getting up and running around the table.

The world doesn’t revolve around a single one of us. We have to be respectful of others, and we have to understand how our actions affect those around us. It’s our job as parents to teach our children those same principals. Anything less is letting your child down and inadequately preparing him/her for life. That’s not fair to the child.

See, we’ve been “going to the potty” for a couple of months now, but it’s been slow. At first, he would only sit on his potty fully clothed. Then I coaxed him into sitting on it clad only in his diaper. It’s only recently that he’s begrudgingly allowed me to remove the diaper while he sits on the potty. Even then, I apparently have horrible timing. I’d have him sit on his potty while I read a book to him, but he would never go. There was one time that I pulled his pants up without a diaper so we could wash his hands before I put a fresh diaper on him, and he peed in his pants. Ten seconds after I got him off his potty. Figures. Anyway, we’ve not been having much luck with the process.

But yesterday when he woke up from his nap, his diaper was completely dry. I quickly ushered him into the bathroom to sit on his potty. After about 2-3 minutes… TA DA! HE PEED!

The look on his face was priceless.

I was so excited that as soon as he was done, I jumped up and down and did a little dance, shouting “Hooray! Hooray!” Paul came to the bathroom to see what all the commotion was about. When I told him about Nathan’s accomplishment, he praised Nathan for being a big boy. After I got Nathan’s diaper back on, Paul scooped him up and did a little dance, swinging him in his arms.

It was glorious.

Now to get Nathan to use his potty consistently and without me prompting. That’ll be nice. This is definitely a long process, much longer than I thought it would be. I hear some kids are really easy to potty train, but others? Not so much. I don’t make a huge deal out of it, though, because then Nathan would totally do the exact opposite. We’re just going at Nathan’s pace and I keep telling myself he won’t be in diapers forever. Just taking it one step at a time.

I’ve been taking Nathan to his potty for about two months now. He gets really excited about going to the potty, but will only sit on the potty fully-clothed for a few seconds. And the last couple weeks or so, he’s started to act disinterested. He’s simply not ready yet. I am more than ready, but he’s not.

Surely he won’t be in diapers forever. Right??

Nathan: “Ma! Mommy! Mom! Mommy! Mama! Ma! Mom! Mom! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Ma! Ma! Ma! Mom! Mom! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! MAMA! MAMA! MOMMY! MOM! MOM!”

Me: “What, Nathan.”

Nathan: “I wove you!” (That’s how Nathan says “love.”)

Yes, my child has gotten into the annoying habit of saying Mommy, Ma, Mama, and Mom over and over again, trying to get my attention.  It reminds me of that Family Guy clip. I don’t particularly care for that show, but the clip is hilarious.

“Cut hair! Cut hair!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m getting my hair cut,” I replied. “But that’s something we don’t do ourselves. We leave it to the professionals.” You know, the whole kids-with-scissors thing? Not cool. I don’t want him hacking away at his hair… although I know it’s inevitable. So then as she was cutting my bangs, my hair trimmings fell onto the cape. Nathan, of course, picks up one corner of my cape and violently flaps it in the air, launching my hair trimmings in all directions.

“Please leave Mommy’s cape alone,” I said. “It’s not polite to shake all the hair off.”

“Ok, I sorry,” he replied. And he stood back, intently watching the as the scissors continued to snip.

Fortunately, that was the only setback he had. After that, my bangs were done and we were ready to leave. I love my little boy, and I love these little adventures that we experience together. Speaking of adventures, he has grown a baby mullet and is in need of his FIRST haircut! We haven’t had his hair cut yet because it took so long for his hair to grow. He was bald for the longest time, so cutting his hair will be bittersweet. He’s crossed the threshold into boyhoood… I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up.

Me: “Nathan, you’re not minding me. Do you want time out?”

Nathan: “Yes!”

Me: “You do? You want time out?”

Nathan: “YES!”

Me: “Fine. Go to time out.”

Nathan: “Yes, Mommy! I sorry! Yes, yes timeout!” (while throwing a temper tantrum and flopping around like a fish-out-of-water on the floor)

Me: “You don’t REALLY want time out, do you? Don’t say yes unless you REALLY want time out.”

Nathan: “Yes.”

Me: “…”

The above conversation is something I deal with every day, multiple times a day. It can really be enough to drive someone crazy, especially when temper tantrums are thrown into the mix. He knows darn good and well what the word “yes” means, so I don’t know why he is using it the wrong way. Unless he’s trying to test me. That is TOTALLY Nathan. He is my little tester… constantly testing his boundaries to see exactly how much he can get away with. Unfortunately, he does not realize that Mommy is not amused (and is, in fact, the OPPOSITE of amused) at his antics.

It started in the afternoon. Nathan and I had just gotten home from a busy day out when I had to use the bathroom. I was in there for less than five minutes. When I came out, Nathan was playing with his brand new firetruck in his bedroom.

*sniff sniff*

I smelled poop. And it wasn’t Nathan’s.

So I cautiously peeked my head out of Nathan’s bedroom into the kitchen and lo-and-behold! There was a big ole clump of poop SMEARED into the kitchen floor. My cat ANDREW had taken a dump in the floor, and NATHAN HAD PLAYED IN IT, dragging it about 2 feet, leaving a trail of smeared poop glistening on the floor.

Furious, I broke out the Clorox and cleaned it up. Afterward, I went into the living room for some relaxation. To my utter horror, however, THERE WAS MORE CAT POOP SMEARED ALL OVER THE COFFEE TABLE. And a 4″ poop log sitting defiantly on the floor next to the coffee table. Furious does not even begin to describe how I felt. I was utterly LIVID. I am a huge animal lover. HUGE. I donate to animal-welfare charities. I cry when I see dead animals on the side of the road. But for a moment, as rage coursed through my quivering veins, I wanted to hurl Andrew outside and let him fend for himself against the road. Or cook him in a pot of stew.

I’m sick and tired of dealing with this. It is not a medical issue, as I initially thought it was. Andrew is jealous of Nathan and I think he’s depressed. See, I feel guilty because before I got married and had a kid, I treated that cat like he was my child. I doted on him. I was one of “those” people who irritatingly treats their pets like a human. But now? I still love him just the same, only I don’t have the time to give him the same amount of attention that I used to. I still love on him, but only for five minutes at a time. I still have conversations with him, but after a while the incessant meowing (he is quite the conversationalist, believe me) can become irritating when I am dealing with a screaming toddler. I have been trying so hard to dote on him like I used to… and for about three weeks, it worked. He was pooping outside the litter box up to 5x a day… and with all the extra time-consuming affection I gave him, he went for THREE WEEKS without a single accident. But now? Now, my schedule has gotten busier, and the love I was showing him is now no longer enough. He follows me around like a lost puppy dog, his sad little eyes staring at me, wishing me to love him.

I can’t get him to understand that I DO LOVE HIM, but he is making it VERY hard to love when I’m cleaning up his poop multiple times a day. I don’t want him around me right now. I have to grit my teeth just to extend my hand to him. I’m SICK of this, and my toddler playing in his angry poop pile is the LAST straw!

And it gets worse. So after I cleaned up the coffee table, I grabbed Nathan to clean him up, change his clothes, and check his hands.

His hands were clean, except for some minute traces of poop.

You know what that means, right? I can’t even think about it at this point. I took him into the bathroom and washed his hands FIVE times for a minute each time, then sanitized his hands twice. And when I was done, his hands still smelled of cat shit.

Afterwards, Nathan was playing with his firetruck all over the house, and every time he walked past me, I got a whiff of poop. Nathan had a clean diaper. I checked his body, no poop. His hands still smelled faintly of poop, but not enough for me to notice unless I specifically smelled his hands. Paul and I were quite befuddled as we tried to ascertain from where the odor was originating.

And then we saw it.

IT WAS CAKED ALL OVER HIS FIRETRUCK WHEELS.

My son had rolled his BRAND NEW firetruck through Andrew’s poop. That’s where the smears came from. It never crossed my mind that Nathan would use a toy to roll through the poop. And then Nathan had rolled the poop-caked wheels ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE.

So guess what we did all evening? Cleaned the carpets, furniture, mopped the floors, and sanitized all surfaces that may have come into contact with that firetruck.

I’m STILL pissed. For once, I am at a loss trying to articulate the depth of the anger I feel towards that cat. Enough is enough. I can’t have my child playing in SHIT. And I would have more compassion if Andrew was sick or needed medical attention, but to cause potential harm to my child because the attention I have been giving him was not good enough is UNACCEPTABLE.

I’m going to have to figure out what to do about this. What a shame. I love that cat… he was my baby. I loved him more than any other cat I’ve ever known. He was so cool, so full of personality. Everyone who has ever met him has commented on how awesome he was. But this acting out can’t be tolerated. I don’t know what to do short of either putting him on antidepressants (how weird would that be?) or giving him away… but who’s gonna want a cat with poop problems? I don’t know if anyone would want to adopt him. He needs someone who can devote a lot of time and attention to him, something I don’t have. I don’t *want* to give him away, and I certainly don’t want to put him to sleep. But I don’t know what other options I have.

So if you have pets, please take this into consideration if you are considering having kids. If you baby your pet too much, it could very well come back to haunt you.