The Potty-Training Experiment

It's nearly impossible to be the parent of a 3-year-old and not get caught up in the anxiety surrounding potty training. I'll admit that I've eavesdropped on groups of Moms discussing how their kids made the switch from diaper to undies, simultaneously making mental notes and breathing a sigh of relief that my child was definitely not old enough and/or physically ready to take the plunge (so to speak).

All that changed this week.

With a month of downtime between the end of camp and the start of the school year, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to suck it up and attempt to potty train Daniel. I imagined a couple of weeks of frustration, followed by a successfully potty-trained child returning to school with a brand-new pair of big-boy underpants. I was a fool.

I truly believed that Daniel was ready. Sure, he never really told me when he had to go, but he showed interest in the potty and the whole process in general. He liked sitting on the potty, but nothing ever happened while he was on the potty. He enjoyed wiping and flushing, but didn't seem to be making the connection between the act of waste elimination and the routine surrounding it. But I was willing to give it my best shot. I spent a week collecting bits of wisdom from other Moms who had recently done the dirty deed. I shopped for paraphernalia like potty seats, countless pairs of undies, sticker charts, candy rewards, and lots of toys that I was hoping to dangle in front of Daniel like a carrot to a horse.

Sequestered in the house for 2 days, we did the potty dance until we were blue in the face. I set the timer, watched him like a hawk, and lured him to the potty with jelly beans. Sometimes, he would sit for 5 minutes and grow antsy. Other times, he sat for a 45-minute stretch with nothing but my Droid Apps to keep him occupied. After the second marathon sitting, Daniel reluctantly got up (I swear, he would've sat for another half-hour) and promptly peed in his underpants. That was the last straw for me.

The final 2-day stats:

21 times on the potty, no results

8 pairs of wet underpants

2 pairs of pooped underpants

100's of jelly beans consumed

2 missed naps

1 confused and pissed-off dog

countless gray hairs added to my head

We're going to take a break for now and wait until Daniel shows more initiative (or until he graduates high school -- whichever comes first)! Let the jelly bean detox begin...

Wiggle-Mania and an Ornery Three-Year-Old

One of the craziest things about being a parent is how wide a gap can exist between your expectations and the reality of the situation. Take the Wiggles concert. I purchased the tickets months ago, and I've been eagerly anticipating Daniel's reaction ever since. In the days leading up to the concert, Daniel and I speculated about which songs they would sing. Based on other people's tips for making the most of our Wiggles experience, I went out and purchased a plastic rose for Dorothy and a bone for Wags, and made an elaborate poster. I was already imagining the fabulous photos I'd take and the indelible memories we'd carry home from the concert.

Everything started off smoothly. We had great seats in the front of the balcony, and Daniel had a clear view of the stage. The Wiggles came out and began signing and dancing. Daniel's expression was serious, but he seemed to be into it. After a couple of songs, it all fell apart. In the middle of "Yellow Bird," Daniel's face crumpled and he burst into tears. He sobbed, "I don't like this one!" I reassured him that the song was almost over and tried to calm him down. But even after the song ended, he continued to cry. "I want to go home!" he insisted. And with those 5 words, my Wiggles concert fantasy began to disintegrate before my eyes.

Peter and I took turns carrying him out of the theater. While I was outside in the lobby with him, I carried him down the stairs and tried to distract him. He continued to say, "We have to go home," and I couldn't figure out what exactly had set him off. The only thing he offered by way of an explanation was, "It's too loud!" I offered to hold his ears, to sit with him and watch the TV monitors from the lobby, and to buy him M&M's. Nothing worked. He was seriously freaked out. And all I could think was, We're going to have to leave the concert.

Almost immediately, I thought about the bitter irony of the situation. My expectations had been so high, there was no way the actual concert could've lived up to them. My disappointment was so pervasive that I felt ashamed to have expected such a flawless experience. When you're the parent of a three-year-old, there's no such thing as a flawless experience. The funny thing is, as I looked around the lobby of the Tower Theater, I noticed countless other parents toting unhappy kiddies out of the venue. Most of the adults looked defeated, like they were waving the white flag at life and giving in to the hysterical children by their sides. I realized that I was not alone. I was not the first parent in history whose expectations were unrealistically high and who was met with opposition in the form of a temperamental toddler.

I let myself off the hook. I took a deep breath and vowed to curb my disappointment, regardless of the day's outcome. While it was a bummer that Daniel was unhappy, and that we were missing most of the concert, it wasn't his fault. He wasn't doing it maliciously, he was simply being a three-year-old! If I wanted to be a good Mom, I had to take the bad with the good --even if the bad came at such an inopportune time as in the middle of our first-ever Wiggles concert. I wasn't about to feel sorry for myself, even as the tears welled up in my eyes. My job was to comfort my child and to make the best of the situation. Pull yourself together, Mommy!

I'm happy to report that we didn't leave the concert. After a couple more hand-offs between me and Peter, Daniel returned to his seat and held it together for the last couple of songs. He was rewarded with a rousing rendition of "Fruit Salad!" Although he continued to insist that we go home, he stopped crying and even seemed to enjoy what little of the show he did see! He spent the entire ride home "recreating" the concert from the back seat, mimicking the Wiggles and echoing the reassurance that Peter and I had fed him earlier.

Was it fair to expect the Wiggles concert to be such a transcendent experience? No. Was it typical parent behavior? Yes. Do I feel like I handled the situation reasonably well and made the best of it? Hell yes. I truly believe that Daniel's memories of the concert will be positive ones. And I will continue to go with the flow. Because in this life, there's no other way to do it!

Your Friends and Neighbors

I have fond memories of growing up with neighborhood kids with whom I was close in age. Those were the old days, when you ran outside after dinner and played with whomever else happened to be outside at the time. These were lasting friendships -- bonds that extended beyond blood relations. If you were fighting with your younger brother, you could escape to a friend's house (and no doubt insist to your friend how much cooler her brother was than yours).

I'm delighted that Daniel has planted the seeds of friendship with our next-door neighbors. As much as I'd love to give him a sibling someday, the future is uncertain. I am thankful that he will always have friends to keep him company, whether or not he ever has a sibling. These sticky summer nights lend themselves well to playing in the backyard with neighboring kids. Last night, I was thrilled to see Daniel playing with Stella, 5, and Caleb, 2. He was equally excited, running inside momentarily to exclaim, "Mommy, Stella and Caleb are home from their trip!" Now, I don't think they were actually away on vacation, rather I suspect that Daniel equated them not being outside on other nights with being "on a trip."

The three of them had a blast together, first splashing around on Daniel's water table and then taking turns riding his Power Wheels Jeep.

Daniel took Caleb for a ride, Stella took Daniel for a ride, and Caleb even drove the Jeep himself for a bit! Daniel was sharing beautifully. He graciously stepped out of the Jeep (without prompting) to give someone else a turn, and didn't complain when he was waiting to get back in. I was so proud. Would he have been as patient and fair with a sibling? Who knows. All that matters is that the kids played nicely together and had fun.

I know that I'm projecting my own anxieties about Daniel being an only child, but watching him interact with Stella and Caleb only strengthened my conviction that he would be an amazing big brother. I pray that he will someday get to wear that ubiquitous "Big Brother" shirt with pride. But even if that day never comes, he will have friends. Friends to play with, to share toys with, to trade lunches with. Daniel is a natural friend. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

Day One Breakout Sessions/Swag Orgy

The morning started at 8:00, with a breakfast for "newbies." The BlogHer co-founders spoke about the conference and answered questions about breakout sessions and other logistical issues. The Expo Hall opened at 10:00, and it was like the scene from Willy Wonka when he opens the door to the chocolate room and all the kids and parents step inside, dumbfounded. I wandered around a bit, stopping to have my picture taken with everyone's favorite explorer. I saw that Shine on Yahoo! had a booth, so I inquired about taking part in an on-camera interview. There were quite a few people ahead of me, and I didn't want to miss the first breakout session, so I left the Expo Hall. That place was like a black hole: It sucks you in, and you lose all sense of time and place.

The first breakout session I chose was "Making Your Passion Work For You." The panelists spoke about finding your own passion and then providing a service that could solve an existing problem. They encouraged the audience to find mentors. Most successful people are eager to help and happy to give back. The message seemed to be: Don't be afraid to approach these people! This seems to be a hang-up for me, so I will have to work on it.

I left that session when they started to talk about business plans and how to obtain insurance coverage when you quit your job. I checked out the writing lab. It was a packed room and I didn't feel like standing in the back. I moved on to the job lab, found a seat on the floor, and listened for about 10 minutes while the panel spoke about resume writing. Another strike-out. So I headed back to the Expo Hall for more fabulous swag and shameless self-promotion. Back to the Yahoo Shine booth, where I had inquired earlier about sharing my story of transformation on camera.

First, I was escorted to hair and make-up. The make-up artist spruced me up. She worked on my eyes, cheeks, and lips, and did her best to minimize my dark circles and shiny t-zone. Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day. The techie guy hooked me up with a mic and I was up. The interview lasted no more than 10 minutes. The woman who interviewed me looked like a cross between Sophia Vergara and Penelope Cruz. I think I did a pretty good job on camera. I wasn't nervous, I spoke slowly and clearly, and...well, I'll post the final edit tomorrow so you can judge for yourself.

With my newfound smoky eyes, I continued to explore the Expo Hall. I wanted to grab the Todd Parr-designed placemats that I had seen everyone carrying around in their swag bags. I headed over to the Stouffers booth. Imagine my surprise when I saw the man himself sitting at the table! Todd Parr is a rock star in my house. I did the Wayne's World "I'm not worthy" bow and began gushing. I mean, I was really laying it on thick. I told him how much Daniel loves his books, and Todd started working on a personalized drawing for him. I continued to gush, thanking him for the work he does (I may have talked about Daniel saying "Why is he crying?" when he looks at the picture of the boy with the dropped ice cream cone -- I'm not sure because I was definitely babbling, like a tween at a Justin Bieber autograph signing). I walked away, on cloud 9, and then immediately started kicking myself for failing to have my photo taken with Todd Parr. So, like a stalker, I went back and waited patiently for another 15 minutes while he finished up with some other people. The man could not have been nicer or more gracious.

After lunch, I checked out two different breakout sessions: Giving Advice in the Blogosphere and Bringing Sexy Back to Branding. Good information from both, but the draw of swag was too great. I have become a total swag whore. Don't ask me how I'm going to get it all home. Back to the Expo Hall, this time up to the second floor. The Hillshire Farm "Sun" was there!!! Even more rad was the turkey sausage on a stick, wrapped in a pancake, that I ate while walking around. What??? The conference food was out of control.

It's the guy from the commercial...I swear!

The true highlight of the day came at 4:45, when we all gathered in the Grand Ballroom for the Voices of the Year honorees. Bloggers were honored in four categories: Life, Humor, Design, and Op/Ed. The speakers were wonderful -- funny, touching, and courageous. It may sound cliche, but I was totally inspired. Everyone's experiences were unique, but they all had something important to say. I guess that's why I blog. I feel like I have something to say (well, at least most of the time).

I'll leave you with one last image, which I was lucky enough to catch after a stroll around midtown brought me back to the Hilton. At the corner of 54th and 6th, New York let its freak flag fly. But where was Luigi?

Gonna Party Like It's 1999!

BlogHer: I'm here. I'm blogging. I feel so relevant! I'm back in NYC, on my own, for the first time since I lived here over 10 years ago. In 1999, New York was exciting, noisy, and filled with excess. Today, in 2010, things are pretty much the same. I'm a little older, a little worse for the wear, but a hell of a lot wiser. And I'm carrying a giant pill case.

The conference doesn't officially begin until tomorrow, but the throngs of female attendees descended on Manhattan a day early to settle in, schmooze, and to get their grooves back. Personally, I'm here to learn more about the business side of blogging and to be inspired by the stories of some amazing women. And, of course, to blog.

I caught a ride from King of Prussia this morning, thanks to Julie Meyers Pron. Julie and I went to high school together and she was kind enough to offer me a seat on the Collective Bias bus when she found out I was going to BlogHer. The bus pulled up to the Hilton at 12:30.

My room was ready, so I unpacked and headed out onto the streets of New York to find some food. I was in the mood for sushi, and I found a cute little place on 55th Street where I could tuck myself away with a good magazine and some crunchy spicy tuna. It felt very 1999.

My mission following lunch was to wander uptown a couple of blocks to that mecca of unreasonably large stuffed animals, FAO Schwartz. I wanted to find something cute to take home to Daniel ("airport presents," so to speak). I'm not sure if it was the massive candy section, the make-your-own-Muppet desk, or the giant piano on which Tom Hanks once performed Chopsticks, but I was like a little kid. Forget 1999. It was 1982!

I immediately found the "toy vehicles" and began to marvel at the countless trash trucks, bulldozers, and cement mixers lining the shelves. Though I was disappointed that I had to limit my purchases to items that would fit in my suitcase, I managed to snap a photo of this precious gem:

The picture above doesn't do it justice. This trash truck was ENORMOUS! Daniel could have played for days. I had to settle for a much smaller New York Sanitation Truck. Luckily, size doesn't matter. Daniel loves trash trucks, both large and small.

By the time I tore myself away from FAO Schwartz, it was 4:00 and registration was officially open. I walked back to the Hilton and took my place in line to collect my badge holder, lanyard, and giant bag of swag. (That's like the third time I've used the word 'giant' in this post...you gotta love New York!)

After sprucing myself up a bit, I hopped into a cab and headed downtown to meet Caitlin (my sister-in-law) at Tabla. This place was fantastic: The food was Indian-Fusion, and we ate ourselves silly. Rosemary naan, tomato and lentil curry, lamb loin and short rib, soft-shell crabs...you get the idea. Bonus points for the waiter, who had a cute Australian accent and was named Daniel. We had a great time! It was good, solid, sister bonding!

Don't we look pretty?

We tried in vain for a half-hour to hail a cab, but Madison Square Park wasn't too happening tonight. (Forgive me while I take off on a random tangent: The restaurant was located at 25th and Madison, just a couple of blocks from the office where I worked in 1999. Full circle! How cool is that?) I ended up on the F train, headed uptown to 57th Street. There was something about riding the subway at 11:30 at night that took me right back to the old days. Upon exiting the subway, I walked three blocks to the Hilton, cozied into my pajamas, and curled up with my giant pill case.

On the agenda for tomorrow: Lots of speakers, lots of swag, and lots of giant BlogHer goodness!