This Is Not a Potty Training Post

Hey there, Mama.

I'm talking to you, all of you, mothers of little children.  I can call you something as familiar as "Mama" because I'm currently a mother of littles, too.  We're brethren... sistren... why isn't there a fancy word for sisters?

Anyway, sistren, we need to have a talk.  Yes, one of those.  It's time for some tough love.

Before I begin, let me just say that I get it.  I really, really do.  When you have small children, your world often shrinks, because you're so busy changingdiaperscleaningupvomitdoingmountainsoflaundrynotshowering that you don't have much time for things like painting your toenails and keeping up on world news.  It's so easy to immerse yourself in this focused (and dirty) little kingdom that you start to do things you would never normally do.  Things that, if you were halfway sane (and any parent will tell you that parenthood leads to madness.  It just does.  And if they can't admit that, they'll say things like, "Parenthood doesn't make you crazy!  Oh, and watch out for the mutant chicken- she tends to come around this time of day, trying to eat people.  I think she's mad I'm not a vegetarian anymore and keep eating her children for breakfast HAHAHAHAHA!"), you wouldn't dream of doing- in fact, Sane You would be appalled at what Insane You is currently doing.

One day, you're chasing your kids around, still at least partially in your right mind, and the next, you're praising Junior for his amazing toilet prowess, letting your poor, exhausted brain takes its final turn 'round the bend, and telling the entire world, in graphic detail, exactly what your son just deposited in his potty chair.

I am talking, of course, about posting about potty training on Facebook.  Or any other social media outlet, for that matter (unless it's a parenting forum dedicated to potty training- then go ahead, over-share your little heart out).

Now, just untwist those panties of yours and listen for a second.  I know what you're going through, okay?  I know how frustrating potty training can be, and how elated a parent can feel at a potty training breakthrough. (No more diapers!  One less bodily fluid to touch on a daily basis!  Holy crap here comes that chicken again, she's seriously pissed today!)  I know what it is to be thrilled at the sight of a little bit of disgusting-ness in the toilet, okay?   I do.

That thrill and elation has a place, though, and it is not with your 471 "friends", mmkay?  Would you walk up to that girl you haven't seen since high school, or your old college professor, or your boss's wife, and trill, "JUNIOR JUST POOPED IN THE POTTY AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT IT SOUNDED LIKE WHEN IT LANDED AND THIS IS EXACTLY THE SOUND HE MADE WHEN HE WAS SITTING THERE!  ISN'T THAT JUST SO GREAT?!"

No.  You would not.  (Please, Heavenly Father, tell me you would not.)

But you know what?  Broadcasting that kind of information on Facebook (or Twitter, or whatever) is just that:  Broadcasting.  You are letting every single person- and often people you don't even know, depending on your security settings- know about something that will humiliate both your child and you when your sanity returns (please, Heavenly Father, tell me it will).  Not only do 99% of the people you have just invited into the bathroom with you and your preschooler not care, they are now grossed out and seriously questioning any future involvement with you.

Here's what to do instead:  Pick up the phone.  Call your spouse.  Call your mom.  Call your mother-in-law.  Call your sister.  Call your close friend.  To be perfectly honest, there's an even chance they won't care, either, but I'm betting they will love you enough to pretend otherwise and be thrilled for you.  (Oh, but NO PICTURE TEXTS.  I have to say it because there are people out there who do that kind of thing.)


I do feel like I should add that every once in a while I come across a potty training post done right.  It's either incredibly brief, incredibly funny (but not graphic), or a detail within a larger story.  They're few and far between, but they do exist.  Examples:  "Kid #8 is finally potty trained- 15 years later, we're finally done with diapers THANK YOU JESUS."  "My son just fell in the toilet and is now hysterically crying but I'm laughing so hard I can't fish him out so I decided to come post it on FB and leave him there to pickle in his own juices (2.5 years later but I'm finally exacting my revenge for 52 hours of labor, Mr. My Shoulders Are As Big As My Head At Birth)."



This has been a Public Service Announcement.

Cheese E. Rodent

Somehow I managed to go thirty years without ever having set foot inside a Chuck E. Cheese.  It was a nice, mouse themed pizza restaurant- free streak that was broken last Friday night.

I have to admit, my expectations of what the inside of a Chuck E. Cheese restaurant looked like were less than stellar.  I pictured a dark, dirty place teeming with bratty children and snarling parents that served barely edible pizza and games designed to steal your money and give you E. Coli just by looking at them.

Did I say my expectations were less than stellar?  What I meant was dead low.

Still, when Derek's father was in town last Friday and offered to take the family out for an evening of pizza and games, I readily agreed.  I figured the kids would have fun, and I could handle a few hours of epilepsy-inducing strobe lights.

(By the by, has anyone seen that VeggieTales episode- I think it's Asparagus of la Mancha- where they poke fun at popular American eating establishments?  Two of my favorites are "Joppa Java- Why pay a little for coffee when you can pay a lot?" and, of course, "Cheese E. Rodent- Our prices are so low you'll think we're CRAZY!")

So we pull up to Chuck E. Cheese.  I've already described my expectations.  I'm steeling myself and my gut for hours of protecting my children and my taste buds.

And what to my wondering eyes did appear but a clean and brightly lit eating establishment with, yes, oodles of children, but they were well-controlled children, having perhaps been given an extra dose of Ritalin before leaving the house that night.  (Oh, I'M KIDDING.  Kind of.)

Sure, there was a terrifying animatronic display of human-sized mice and ducks and what I can only describe as a two-eyed, no-horned, non-flying purple people eater playing fake musical instruments.  Caedmon and I seemed to be the only people in the place that were scared, so I'll give them a pass on that one.

The food was decent, the people were nice, the games were fun, no one got E. Coli, and the kids had an absolute ball, begging to go back from the moment we got back in the van to return home.  At this point they've managed to extract half a promise from us to return sometime in the next year (which may not sound like much, but we're a homebody kind of family, and besides, there is no way we would go back with anything less than a 1:1 kid to adult ratio.  To do otherwise would be madness, believe me).



Whose idea was it to center a pizza-and-game restaurant around a mouse, anyway?  Was it designed as a Disney- copycat moneymaking venture, or what?  I've always been confused by this.

Another Belated Birthday Post

Hey guys.

Sorry I haven't been posting.  We've been busy- I'm sure you can relate.

Here's a post I meant to write for Derek's birthday.  Which was a week ago.  Whoops.


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In honor of Derek's birthday, I'm going to jot down a little conversation I had with Adelaide a few weeks ago:


"Hey, Mom?  You shouldn't worry about Daddy being the boys' favorite parent.  It's really just because they get to see you all the time, like all day, and they only get to see Daddy in the evenings and on the days he doesn't work.  Well, and it's also probably because he chases them around and plays golf and running soccer ball with them, and because he jumps out and scares them.  And because he builds stuff with them.  And because he lets them watch football on tv.  And he makes really good omelets... but you really shouldn't feel bad."

"Thanks Adelaide.  You're such a comfort to me."

Happy (Belated) Birthday to my husband and the favorite parent!

Just In Case You Ever Wondered

I love Christmas.

But now I'm kind of ready for it to be over.

I know what you're thinking:  "Um, Christmas is over.  It's December 27th.  The rest of the Christmas-celebrating masses moved on yesterday.  Idiot."

Man, you guys are harsh sometimes.

The reason I bring up the whole I'm-ready-for-Christmas-to-be-over thing is that I'm usually not ready to give up the Christmas ghost until mid-January.  Sometimes I use Epiphany as an excuse, sometimes I say that I won't take all the decorations down until the wise men have had a chance to arrive.  Sometimes I'm honest and say I just don't want Christmas to be over yet.

This year, though, I might go nuts and take it down right after the new year.  I won't lie to my children again and tell them that Christmas decorations can do double duty for Valentine's Day (by the by- does anyone actually decorate for Valentine's Day?  I keep seeing all these ideas on Pinterest- do people really do that?  Am I the only one that thinks that's crazy?).

We're not done celebrating yet, though.  We still have some traveling to do and some family to see.

Which means one of my favorite parts of the holidays isn't over yet!

That's right:  I still have more presents to wrap!  It's funny; I'm not much of a gift person, and yet I love to wrap gifts.


Gift wrapping was one of my favorite parts about one of my high school jobs.  I worked in a drugstore, and when I wasn't working in the back in the pharmacy, I was up front, where we sold gifts and make up and stuff.  And around the holidays?  I spent many an hour at the gift wrapping station, making perfume bottles and knick knacks look all purdy for the pathetically grateful men who were out shopping for their womenfolk.

Hey, have I ever told you guys about the time I was talking to my Spanish Conversation Partner about that high school job?  I was a Spanish minor in college, and part of the program included spending a certain amount of time every week talking to one of our Spanish-speaking international students.  This gave us gringos an opportunity to practice with someone who wasn't allowed to speak English to us, and was a lot of fun, besides.  Well, one day one of my Partners and I were talking about who knows what, when for some reason I mentioned my high school job.  He asked a question about it, and while I was trying to answer, he began to look alarmed.  I continued attempting to explain myself, his face looking more and more incredulous and a trifle worried, until he suddenly began laughing, and I decided it was time to stop talking.

When he finally regained control of himself, he explained to me that I had told him I sold drugs in high school.  I was a drug dealer.  It turns out they don't really have an equivalent word for "drugstore" in Spanish; they just stick with 'la farmacia.'


To sum up:  I love wrapping presents, and I am not now, nor have I ever been, a drug dealer.


I hope everyone had a terrific Christmas!

Snow, Glorious Snow!

So, it snowed last night.

Our backyard late yesterday afternoon:

Our backyard this morning:

They're saying we got about a foot of snow, and we're still in a blizzard watch until 6 pm today because of the high winds I can still hear wooshing around the house.  

But look!

That, my friends, is Derek clearing our driveway with the snow blower we bought at a garage sale over a year ago.  Because of last year's extremely mild winter, this is the first chance he's gotten to use it, and I'm happy to report that it works great, which saves him hours of back-breaking work with the shovel.  I may even have channeled my inner mad scientist when I heard it start up, cackling and exclaiming, "It's alive- IT'S ALIVE!"  

We're pretty excited about that snow blower.

Hey, have I ever told you guys about how one day at work, my first winter in Connecticut, I was talking to a coworker of mine who hailed from Buffalo, NY (home to way more snow than we get here or in CT), and when she mentioned something about a snow blower, my response was, "What is that- like a leaf blower?"  And did I tell you about how she doubled over from laughing so hard when she realized I was being serious? 

I didn't think I'd ever live that one down.

I was certainly thankful I only had to use the shovel to scoop the snow off the van and break up the frozen chunks of snow on the sidewalk so Derek can use that wonderful, magical snow blower to clear it off tonight.  I was only out there for around 45 minutes, which turned out to be plenty of time for me to experience the fun that is snow + wind.  I emit a charming little squeal-laugh-cry every time huge gusts of wind blow stinging snow onto every exposed inch of my skin.  I tried to make like a penguin and turn my back to the wind when it gusted, but it turns out I'm not so great at anticipating the whims of a capricious winter wind.

On the bright side, I got to experience a combination snow/thunderstorm last night; I've never seen lightning and snow issuing from the sky at the same time before.  We were also fortunate enough not to lose our power, Adelaide got a snow day from school, and the kiddos and I don't have to go anywhere today- a definite plus when I keep seeing notices from a nearby town that say things like "Such-and-such highway closed due to six-foot-drifts."  Yeehaw!

Christmas Newsletter 2012

For the past few years, rather than spending precious time picking out a design for, composing, typing, and printing out a family newsletter to stuff in the envelope with our Christmas card, I've been putting something along the lines of "Merry Christmas- If you actually want to know anything about us, check the blog."

Not in those exact words, of course.  I try not to sound quite so surly on Christmas cards.

The really ironic part is that I love reading other people's newsletters.  So if you usually send one, please don't stop.  Don't be like me.


Now, for those of you that were sent here via our cards:  Welcome!  For those of you that are here on your once-a-year check of the blog:  Welcome back!  For those of you that are regulars around here:  I love you!


Curious to know just what we've been up to over the course of the past year?

How about a month-by-month blog recap?

[Just a quick note: For anyone new here who may not consider themselves to be the most tech savvy person in the world, I'm going to be providing links to previous posts about our family embedded within each month's paragraph; the links will be a different color than the rest of the text.  Simply click on any alternate-colored words to read the story.]

January

Adelaide turned six in May and absolutely loves to read; I soon learned I can no longer leave just any reading material lying around the house.  Caedmon, who turned two in September, taught me I can't take my eyes off him for two seconds at the grocery store.  We still don't have any pets at this point, but our kiddos are making do.  You may also be interested to know that because we have three little kids in the house, we spend most of the winter season battling some kind of cold or illness. (Like right now, as a matter of fact.)  I also decided to take the advice of a random parenting article and started reading from Grimm's Fairy Tales to Adelaide.  It was an interesting lesson for us both.  

February

Atticus celebrated his fourth birthday in October.  He's a hilarious and active little guy.  He also suffers from what we believe are night terrors, which means I can pretty much guarantee that on any given day Derek and I are both operating on minimal amounts of sleep.  I (that would be Kristy; I refuse to speak in the third-person for the entirety of this post) decided that 29 is the appropriate age to become a curmudgeon.  Caedmon chose the month of February to really drive home the point that Derek is his favorite person on earth.  Right around Valentine's Day is when we found that Adelaide seems to have inherited her father's perfectionism and her mother's excruciatingly slow pace.  I got to go see my sisters, who were both expecting their first babies, and it was painfully exciting.  Shortly after my visit, my youngest sister and her husband survived a tornado, even if their house didn't.  

March

March reminded me that our children are crazy.  But that's okay, because I am, too.  I also let a little bit of my inner grammar freak slip, and I've been getting good-natured crap for it ever since.  The three kids spent much of the spring reinforcing my politically incorrect gender bias.  My spring gardening reminded me how much I hate rabbits.  This was also the month my sister Kelli had my sweet little niece Charlotte.  Adelaide showed everyone that she, too, is a curmudgeon-in-training.  Atticus reminded me that there's a sharp learning curve to this whole 'raising boys' thing.

April

Derek got to go fishing in April.  I decided that Atticus is scared of all the wrong things.  I made a grievous mistake due to a lack of sleep.

May

One of our kiddos got sick.  Again.  We had another typical day in the Crisler household.  I shared my views on childhood boredom.  Adelaide turned six and said more inappropriate things.  My youngest sister Steph also had her first baby girl: Vada.  I had to wait over a month to meet her.

June

Our daughter gets emotional at times, and I had trouble dealing with it this month.  Atticus proved that he was paying attention during our summer "Fruits of Spirit" lessons.  Adelaide said the "F" word.  The kids and I had great fun completing a Father's Day questionnaire to celebrate Derek.  They were also super helpful when I went swimsuit shopping.  

July

We traveled south for Charlotte's baptism and to finally meet Vada.  Whilst traveling, I pledged my undying love for certain fast food chains.  I also battled ants and proved what an exceptional friend I am.  Japanese beetles wreaked havoc on my gardens this month- this coupled with the rabbits made me turn to Derek for some rather unconventional help.  

August

Caedmon continued to rub his preference for Daddy in my face.  We made our annual pilgrimage to the Iowa State Fair.  Adelaide finally began losing her baby teeth.  She also tried out cheerleading, and ultimately decided it's not the sport for her.  Atticus loved a very specific part of the Olympics. 

September

This month I was strangely heartened to see another mother at Aldi having trouble with her little ones.  Caedmon decided he does not like having his picture taken.  We spent a wonderful weekend at a wedding, but I had a little trouble packing for the trip.  I survived an imaginary home invasion.  I posted a ton of photos of Caedmon (just because I can), and wrote him a letter for his second birthday.  

October

We embarked on a family golf outing, which was especially appropriate given that Atticus turned four this month, and golf is one of his very favorite things.  He also inadvertently humiliated me at the store.  We went trick-or-treating for Halloween and Caedmon got creative in his greeting of strangers.

November

In November we had fun visiting our local pumpkin patch.  Our older two showed me just how much they love their daily chores.  I got strangely sentimental watching our boys play with Derek.  Atticus was indignant at the nurses' treatment of him at his yearly doctor's exam.  Adelaide informed me that her tooth fairy isn't as generous as her friends'.  We spent Thanksgiving at Derek's parents' house, where I got my baby fix.  Atticus waged war against a nightmare chicken.  Adelaide said some more stuff that was either really strange or really wise.  

December

So far this month, we've discussed the vast differences between Derek's brain and my own, Adelaide had her school Christmas concert, Derek wrote a surprise post for my 30th birthday, and I talked about how grateful I am to be 30 and healthy.




I hope you've all had a wonderful 2012- Merry Christmas!

One Post, Two Ways

I really couldn't decide how to write this post.  So I decided to put both versions on here.  It's like a Choose-Your-Adventure-Novel around here today (anyone else remember those?).






Version 1:


Things have been busy around here lately.

I bet it's been the same for you, too.

One day it's a cookie exchange.  The next it's a Christmas party with friends.  Then it's a Christmas party for work.  Then you need to send in sprinkles for your kid's class.  Then you need to send juice.  Then you need to send her in pajamas.  Then you need to send a bunch of paper towels.  Then it's the Christmas program.  And then something else and something else and something else.

This morning pretty well summed up what the past few weeks have been like for us.

After picking Adelaide up from school (she was apparently sick, although she's organizing the toy corner as I type this.  Methinks I've been duped.), I sat down to write return addresses on the Christmas cards that I didn't order enough of while the boys went from chasing each other with plush footballs to chasing each other with plastic golf clubs to chasing each other with big glass Mason jar candles they got from a shelf that is evidently low enough for their grubby little hands to reach.  Through it all, I thought that perhaps I was finally getting this whole multi-tasking thing down, until I reviewed what I had just written on the Poovey crew's envelope:

Crisler
220 E 8th St*
Cambridge, Get into time-out right now 50124


In other news, today I learned that I have not broken an old habit of writing down whatever I'm currently saying aloud.  It also comes as no surprise to me that we live in the state of Get Into Time-Out Right Now.

Seems pretty dang accurate, actually.



*Not our actual address, creeper.


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Version 2:



Things have been busy around here lately.

I bet it's been the same for you, too.

One day it's a cookie exchange.  The next it's a Christmas party with friends.  Then it's a Christmas party for work.  Then you need to send in sprinkles for your kid's class.  Then you need to send juice.  Then you need to send her in pajamas.  Then you need to send a bunch of paper towels.  Then it's the Christmas program.  And then something else and something else and something else.


Then 26 people are violently murdered in an elementary school and now 20 children are dead.



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I just can't stop thinking about it.  I'll be going about my day, writing a blog post, then WHAM, there it is.  I'm guessing it's what most other people are feeling, too:  torn between wanting to keep the people of Newtown, Connecticut in our thoughts and prayers and realizing that constant rumination doesn't really help anyone, and that there's nothing wrong with trying to capture as much Christmas cheer as possible.

Still, it's hard to be frivolous or funny when all you can think about are the families for whom the holiday season is most likely forever ruined.

So, yeah.  That's where I'm at today.