"I've got a turtle head poking out."

We now return the the saga of trying to get my daughter to successfully eliminate in the toilet.

My daughter has finally mastered urinating in the toilet/potty to some degree. She still needs reminding when I see her doing the pee-pee dance or digging at herself - always attractive in public - but the vast majority of the time she stays dry. Our next hurdle? Poop. After conquering her anxiety over letting her pee fall into a vessel, my middle one now has anxiety over pooping in the potty - to the point where she will come up and ask me for a diaper when she has to take a dump. Which is uber-fun to change afterwards, as previously discussed, as they are full sized craps with the stink to match. God forbid I express my displeasure at having to deal with said dookie as she will tell me, as I hold her legs up over her head to scrape turd off her butt with the twelfth in a succession of wipes, "Don't make a bad face, Mommy. Be happy." I'll be happy when I no longer have to handle this toxic waste, thanks.

Last weekend, it seemed there might a light at the end of the tunnel. I was sitting in the living room as hubby was putting the girls to bed when I see him and #2 (no pun intended) emerge from their room, at which point my daughter tells my she "has to go poop". I try to contain my excitement and stay on the couch as I hear her and hubby go into the bathroom and he commences his one hundred and second hopeful reading of Once Upon a Potty. Moments later I hear him say, quietly, as she does not like fanfare, "I'm so proud of you!" Can it really be? It could. She had pooped! Huzzah! My husband said he even got a little teary-eyed.

Our excitement was short lived. The next day she asked me for a diaper when she had to take her post-dinner dump and despite my gentle suggestions she use the facilities - and by this I did not mean the book corner of the playroom - she screamed, "Noooo!" Oh well.

So imagine my surprise yesterday when she tells me she has to poop and when I make my obligatory inquiry as to potty or toilet she chooses - TOILET! We run upstairs, sit down and after a few minutes of reading she says, "Actually I don't have to go." Later, after playing for a bit she tells me again she has to go again. Back to the bathroom. Again, she doesn't have to, actually. We did this about fifteen more times with the sittings decreasing in duration despite my efforts to lengthen them by allowing her to bring every toy in the house into the can with her and I have begun hating Prudence and her damn potty and envying her mother for the ease with which her frizzy-haired offspring managed to potty train. I bring the potty in to the playroom thinking the walk to the john is interrupting her flow - no dice. I am also becoming concerned because now she's telling me her tummy hurts. Great, I am envisioning this going on for hours and ending with laxatives and tears. I even offer her a diaper which she rejects, then accepts, three potty attempts later. At this point, we have been working on this dump for TWO hours. My whole day is revolving around it. I run between making lunch and the toilet, nursing the baby and the toilet, I just want this poop out and be done with it.

Twenty minutes later, I see #2 in the corner (the kid, not the fecal matter - not that I would have cared as long as she finally went) squatting and grunting. Then finally, finally, she tells me, "I done." Readers, I am embarrassed to tell you how happy I was about a crap. And when I tell you this was the turd of the century, I am not kidding. It was as big as my kid's head. I contemplated taking a picture for all of you, but I think that's too far, even for me.

So it's back to the drawing board in the deuce department. Just like everything else, my strong-willed middle child will do this when she's ready. I will try to remember The Day of the Turtle Head the next time I'm being told to be happy as I'm covered in feces since I really don't think I could go through that again.

A Diamond indeed

After using one of his song titles in a post this week, I decided to listen to some Neil Diamond. Smirk, if you will, but after listening to a few tunes I remembered how very much I love Neil, as did my mother, and it's been too long since he got some respect. So this Friday, my list..

Top 5 Neil Diamond Songs

1. Cherry Cherry - This song is a classic - Lauren agrees and I love that she started off her radio show in college with it each time because it is so anti-college-radio-show with its good time beat. A bit racy for 1966, this song is actually quite sexual. I do take issue with the use of the name/fruit Cherry normally in this context as it creeps me out (i.e. Warrant's Cherry Pie - blech), but I'll let Neil off this time.

2. You Don't Bring Me Flowers - This song is a duet with Barbara Streisand, whom I also love. "You don't bring me flowers, You don't sing me love songs, You hardly talk to me anymore, When you come through the door at the end of the day." I used to think this song was so sad, but now I know the people in the song just have small children. They're talking to one another but it's more "Here, take this one, he needs a bath." coming through the door trying to get them all into bed so you can actually have a conversation that isn't interrupted with requests for juice. Maybe the flower bit is true. OK, that's not entirely fair, hubby does bring me flowers (but nowhere near often enough - am I being clear? Am I?), and we both hate acapella singing so no dice on the love songs. Anyway, it's a nice, sad, love song regardless.

3. Forever in Blue Jeans - In contrast to #2, this classic is an ode to young, broke, love and I played this song often when hubby and I were having some hard times. "Money talks, But it don't sing and dance and it don't walk, And long as I can have you here with me, I'd much rather be, Forever in blue jeans" Sigh. Is there anything better than that? Sure, it's easier to be goo-goo eyed about your spouse when you're not fighting over who ate the last cup of Ramen Noodle, but I still love this song because it reminds me of what we went through and I think we'd still be happy even if we lived in a cardboard box.

2. Coming to America - You secretly love this song too so stop your giggling. You can mock me all you want after I write this, but I swear to God, I get chills every time I hear this song. Yes, it's hokey, and theatric and over the top, but there is just something about the music and the way Neil talk/sings part of the national anthem that gets me. I can't remember if it was my husband or one of his brothers who sang this in the elementary school chorus and had to dress up like an immigrant, but I get teary-eyed/laugh hysterically when think about any one of them having to sing a Neil Diamond song while wearing their dad's old suit jacket and carrying a bandanna bundle on a stick.

1. Sweet Caroline - You knew this was coming didn't you? Predictable? Yes. Deserving of the top spot? Also, a resounding YES. This song is so much fun, especially when you are drunk at a wedding, it can't not be my #1. At my wedding, where the DJ was forbidden to play most group dance music - no Chicken Dance, no Macarena, no Electric Slide - upon pain of death, this was one of two group songs I did allow (the other was Shout and my whole wedding wound up on the floor doing The Gator). One of my fondest memories is of all my late mom's friends holding hands in the big circle dancing because they and she loved this song. It was almost like she was there. Regardless of my sentimental connection though, this song is still wicked fun at a party, circle dance or not, with the whole crowd shouting, "Bah! Bah! Baaah!"

If you are not familiar with these songs I pity you and demand that you immediately go to iTunes and take a listen. I guarantee you will buy at least one. While my tribute to Neil may be good, nothing compares to the Neil Diamond tribute group the characters in Saving Silverman belong to - "Diamonds in the Rough". I love Neil, but I have to draw the line at dressing like him.
Happy Friday!

Post-posting note:
AAAAAHHHHHH! I just finished my workout and who do I see on the TV? NEIL DIAMOND! He is performing on the Today show this morning!!!!! This is fate, karma, whatever you want to call it. Neil is thanking me for my tribute. Well, Neil, you're welcome.

"South to drop off, moron!"

Whew! I am finally back from my morning workout. No, I wasn't on the treadmill I mean I have returned from schlepping all three of my kids to school. This is the calm after the storm - a storm that starts every morning at 6:30 when my oldest, the early bird, wakes up and on occasion, 6:15, when the baby decides to screw with me. I love my darling middle child who is a late sleeper and is conked out until at least 7:00. Before I had kids I had no idea what a shit-show mornings could be. I thought it was difficult dragging myself out of bed at 7:00 to get myself out the door for work. I had all that coffee drinking, news watching and hair drying to do. Now I have the Herculean task each morning of getting three semi-cooperative, small beings fed, dressed, groomed and in the car by 8:15. Perhaps you'd like to take a look at what my morning entails...

6:15 - Baby starts to squawk and I ignore him as I finish my workout.
6:20 - Jump in shower, wash body and face.
6:22 - Get "dressed" in pajama pants and T-shirt.
6:25 - Nurse baby.
6:30 - Get milk for oldest who is snuggling in bed with hubby.
6:45 - Put baby in Exersaucer prison while I make coffee.
7:00 - #2 awakes and groggily asks for milk - she is not a morning person. Take breakfast orders - pancakes, waffles (both frozen, Aunt Jemima I am not), cereal, bagels, etc. Flagellate myself as I allow children to eat in front of TV so I can get other things done such as making the beds and packing lunches.
7:30 - Feed baby breakfast while screaming at the kids to get dressed.
7:40 - Leave baby in high chair eating bananas hoping he doesn't choke to death while I get his sister's head out of her sleeve and begin the hair negotiations. #1 : "I just want to wear it long (read: down, with nothing in it)." Me: "No, you have gym to day and you look like a street urchin." #1 : "What's a street urchin?"
7:55 - Finish feeding baby, get him dressed and change my own shirt which has been spattered with pureed prunes.
8:05 - Brush everyone's teeth and put shoes and jackets on.
8:15 - Get in car to drive .34 miles to elementary school. Seriously, I mapquested it. Now a bit about drop-off. It is really, and truly, just like the drop-off scene in Mr. Mom. The cars all drive in one direction only and we all pull up to the curb where a fifth grader helps your kid out and they run into the school. The cars pull up four at a time and I am never more stressed then when I am the last of the four because my oldest insists on kissing every member of our famliy goodbye before exiting the vehicle. This means the other three cars in front of me have pulled out alrady and everyone is waiting for me. Once the love-fest is over it then takes my automatic door a good five seconds to close while I sit there whispering, '"Come on, come on!" burning rubber as I pull out. One benefit to this drop-off scheme? I can literally wear my pajamas and no one knows. Then it's back to the house since #2's pre-school doesn't begin until 9:00. So...

8:30 - Take off shoes and jackets. Put baby on the floor to play, and since my middle daughter is actually a Hobbit and must eat every 90 minutes, make her a snack. At this point I actually get to eat my own breakfast - at least until the baby starts screaming for some of it and I put him back in the high chair for some toast. At some point in here I swap out the pj's for my yoga pants since I actually see people at the pre-school.
8:40 - Baby takes usual morning dump - change diaper.
8:45 - Put my daughter on the potty (YAY! It's actually working), put shoes and jackets back on.
8:50 - Get back in car to drive 1.85 miles to the pre-school, a Driver's Ed nightmare, as I repeatedly look in the rear view mirror, which is pointed squarely on the baby, frantically try to keep him awake so he doesn't ruin his 9:30 nap by taking a quick snooze.
9:00 - Drag baby and #2 into school. Spend five minutes trying to take off #2's jacket and hang it in her cubby while holding 25lb baby in one arm. Kiss #2 goodbye and I'm off.
9:10 - Repeat driving scenario from earlier, trying not to run any red lights as I race against the clock and the baby's drooping eyelids to get him in his crib in time for his nap.
9:30 - Plop my ass in front to the computer to write and drink more coffee.

THE END - (at least until I have to pick everyone up at 11:30 and do it all again in reverse order)

I know many of you are in the same boat so feel free to share your own ridiculous morning routines so we can all pat each other on the back for a job well done every damn day. I especially relish the mornings my husband is home so he can experience the madness. One time I was sick and he actually had to do the whole thing himself. His reaction at the end of the process? "Boy, your job sucks." Indeed.