Listening...

Listening isn't easy for any 3 year old (I am hoping) and Porter is no exception. I must ask him to listen to me- or someone else at least 1000x a day. When I was trying to help him with getting potty trained I told him that he just needed to listen to his body and it would tell him when he needed to go. Since then I've heard many derivations of this idea... My body is telling me I'm this.. My body is telling that... This morning he climbed into bed with us and was promptly asked if he needed to go to the bathroom- of course he answered No, and that was it... Sometime later when he was informed that he would need to go to the bathroom before we turned cartoons on- he hesitated, then whispered "My body told me (then in a super low, puckered-lip tummy-ish voice I guess) I need to go potty...I need to go potty."

Thrills & Spills

Saturday, being the BEAUTIFUL 70 degree day that it was, could NOT keep this family indoors one more minute. We were out working in the yard, watering our spring flowers that are trying to emerge and washing cars OUTSIDE at the Papa McEuen's Hand Car Wash. We were intoxicated with fresh spring air and were delirious with spring-y thoughts... Porter has been asking for a bike forEVER and after trying unsuccessfully to satisfy the desire by way of D.I. (Deseret Industries- a Utah Salvation Army) and Target- we made our way to our cool local Brothers Bikes bike shop and picked him out a beautiful little blue bike and helmet that he can't stop talking about. We thought you should see him go (the cheesy grin was complimentary)!!!

Happy Days are Here Again!!

The last week has been one to remember. Porter turned 3 in January and I realized that it was time to start really working on potty training...not that the thought hadn't crossed MY mind- it had, I mean- he got underwear for Christmas and all, the problem was- it hadn't really crossed HIS mind. He's used the toilet for this and that, and had been pretty good about telling me he needed to go when he was in the tub- but actual day-to-day use- absolutely no interest. In March we.. okay- I, started really trying to help him get into the spirit of it so we established a post-potty training reward- he wanted a watch... this only proved to make him obsessive about having one. We'd have an all-out war whenever I asked him to go- no matter how gently or forcefully the suggestion was made. He'd do well half the day only to wet 20 minutes after using the restroom. Now, I am all about not forcing the issue, and waiting until the child is ready- but with pre-school on the horizon and size 6 diapers getting not only smaller, but incredibly annoying to change- I was finally fed up. Last week, after WEEKS of being alternately patient, firm AND understanding- I was done. I put the diapers away and vowed that we would be potty trained without use of anymore diapers or die trying... unfortunately for me, it actually almost came to that. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday saw nasty accident after nasty accident and by Tuesday I told him he would spend an hour (or more, depending on how pissed I was) in his room following every single accident...I didn't see him much on Tuesday. Wednesday, the same rules applied, but I was soooo much less nice when sending him off to his room. After 4 #1 (you know the code- right?) "accidents" and 2 #2 "accidents" ("accidents" actually being actions in direct rebellion of the nazi-mother mood I was in) he wound up spending- let's see... probably 18 1/2 hours of that particular day in his bedroom and I was on suicide watch. Anger, frustration, guilt (...which is TOTALLY not fair), a little dab of hysteria and utter DESPAIR at having the most completely stubborn, retarded child that ever existed. I went to the gym that night and moped around with no energy to do anything- so I just went home. I didn't know what else to do. The next morning, Porter came into our room- he went in and used the restroom with NO argument and he hasn't had an accident since. I think the Lord knew when enough was enough and sent me a (not at all small) MIRACLE!!

Ow-shide...Ow-shide

OUTSIDE!! Seth thinks he should be outside all day, everyday, in any kind of weather- California gave him a taste for the outdoors that he can't get over...despite the fact that snowed for us everyday for a week after we got back. Depressing? You have NO idea. Here's the thing- we live in a snowy climate- we understand and actually APPRECIATE that, it's just that the first snow came somewhere around the end of November and it didn't let up until this week. The temperature (other than the occasional week long dip into the negatives) which usually fluctuates somewhere between 20-40 degrees, NEVER (and I actually mean NEVER) even made it to 20 degrees for several months. Never. It was too cold to even take our kids sledding- sledding (or skiing) in 7 degree weather just didn't sound like much fun. Our Christmas lights were actually frozen to our house until about 3 weeks ago at which point we finally took them down. The beginning of March brought us 45 degree weather and we were in our short-sleeves playing outside like it was going out of style- along with about everyone in the state.

So it is easy to understand why Seth and Porter think outside is soooo great! But to prepare throughout the winter- and up until last weekend, it was shoes, socks, jacket and hat... Well, Seth is sure that as long as he has at least ONE of these bases covered- he's good to go. He came to me the other morning in his pajamas, with Porters hat pulled on his head ski-wompas saying "ow-shide.. ow-shide". I HAD to take a picture...

California ( am I ) DREAMIN'???

Swimming with Daddy! Too much fun...

We went to Ruby's with my friend, Susan and her daughter Sophia... she and Seth hardly got along at all...
They were only soul mates!! All three of the kids had a great time playing together.
Better get out and "galk" while you can- (oh, that's 'walk' in Seth language)- we're heading back to freezing in the morning!!! waaaaah!

Pool time
"Smile Porter!"... " I aaam! I'm making funny faces..." Apparently, some things are lost in translation...
This is the sight that made me cry. When did this little guy get so big? He was in HEAVEN!
If ever Porter went missing- one thing was for sure: he could be found- grandpa's hat on backwards, sitting in the drivers' seat of the "Super-Car". Grandpa took him for a ride in it and the big attraction (the one that made this 3 year olds eyes bulge) was not the power under the hood (as it should be), but the putting up and going down of the convertible soft top.

It FELT like a dream to be warm again...even on a cold week in L.A. Everything was green and flowering and smelled soooooo good!! I love the floral smell that is home- it's intoxicating. Anyway, we spent a wonderful week at Grandma & Grandpa Miller's house soaking up some MUCH needed sunshine and visiting with friends. Our outings included a trip to Oxnard to visit Grandpa McEuen and our Meyring cousins, an awewome trip to Costa Mesa where we shopped at the best mall in the country: South Coast Plaza (I'm sure that's a documented fact- haha...), we got to attend a friends baby shower, a family friends funeral (who passed away after 10 years of suffering from Alzheimers), and a birthday celebration (if my 30th birthday can even be CONSIDERED a 'celebration') at my favorite restaurant, The Charthouse in Redondo Beach. We played in the pool, at the park by the house my family grew up in, and enjoyed as many of the tastes from home as we could cram in. I kept trying to figure out how we could stay- you know, avoid coming home at all! But alas, it doesn't work that way. I love our home here- but I really loved being warm.... At any rate, we're back and we're coping.

On The Light Side

Porter is your typical 3 year old (at least that is what I keep telling myself). You say "Come here"- he immediately turns tail and chugs as fast as his little legs will carry him in the other direction. You ask him to not touch something- and as if compelled by some unseen force- he has to touch whatever the forbidden object may be. You see he is about to spill his bowl of Cheerios and quickly ask him to....not spill his Cheerios all over the floor- as they go rolling in every direction. The other night, he was having a not-so-untypical problem with staying in bed. Once, twice, three times- whatever- on the fourth time, I was ticked. I stalked up the stairs and into my bedroom to retrieve him ONCE again. I told him in no uncertain terms that if I saw his cute butt out of bed ONE more time I was going to spank it. Being contrary as always, he had to argue about it with me, "Noooo!" he said," DADDY do it!"... clearly, he wasn't thinking straight- right? "Oh yeah" I said, "You want Daddy to do it???!- okay then." "We-ellll" he said, clearly rethinking this idea as I was escorting him back to his bed, " How about Seth? Seth can do it." Not too tired to think clearly after all...