Today, I begin my first blog entry. I've decided to record my musings and the happenings in "my strenuous life" which is a play on the title of Theodore Roosevelt's book, The Strenuous Life. My very own little Theodore, the love of my life, was born three years ago and while I fancy myself creative, and literate, and organized and motivated, I haven't recorded one word about my experience as his mother (my strenuous life). I thought I would be keeping journals and taking pictures and sending out newsletters to all who would read them on every little happening in his existence from the moment he took his first breath; I've done nothing. So here I begin, today the first day of Spring, a fitting day for a new beginning.
And what did we do today to celebrate the first day of Spring? We continued our adventure in potty training. I have to say of all the things that I have neglected to record it is fitting that I should start with the one adventure that has been the most harrowing, considering the name of this blog. At three plus years, he shows no interest in stopping any of his very important activities to sit still on a such a mundane contraption as a potty chair and do his business. He must not be interupted during his day long-torpedo firings and phaser launching from his Star Trek Enterprise contraptions fashioned from Lego's, Tinker toys, or scale model replicas held together with duct tape from so much play. (Yes, it seems to be his first obsession.)
I have read all the books on potty training; I have tried all the tips, hints and suggestions from everyone I talk to. We have run around the house without pants. We have tried the "big boy" underwear. I have bribed him with various special toys -- (all with a Star Trek theme). The bribes seemed to be the most promising strategy until he got tired of waiting for "the urge" and decided to build his own version with whatever he could get his hands on, and soon my bribing device had been forgotten, and he was back to shooting pretend torpedoes. As far as the "big boy pants" and the pantless strategy, let's just say my floors have never been cleaner. Well, I better close this post. I hear the call of my Captain, "Beam me up Scotty!"
And what did we do today to celebrate the first day of Spring? We continued our adventure in potty training. I have to say of all the things that I have neglected to record it is fitting that I should start with the one adventure that has been the most harrowing, considering the name of this blog. At three plus years, he shows no interest in stopping any of his very important activities to sit still on a such a mundane contraption as a potty chair and do his business. He must not be interupted during his day long-torpedo firings and phaser launching from his Star Trek Enterprise contraptions fashioned from Lego's, Tinker toys, or scale model replicas held together with duct tape from so much play. (Yes, it seems to be his first obsession.)
I have read all the books on potty training; I have tried all the tips, hints and suggestions from everyone I talk to. We have run around the house without pants. We have tried the "big boy" underwear. I have bribed him with various special toys -- (all with a Star Trek theme). The bribes seemed to be the most promising strategy until he got tired of waiting for "the urge" and decided to build his own version with whatever he could get his hands on, and soon my bribing device had been forgotten, and he was back to shooting pretend torpedoes. As far as the "big boy pants" and the pantless strategy, let's just say my floors have never been cleaner. Well, I better close this post. I hear the call of my Captain, "Beam me up Scotty!"
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