It has been a strange few days. With no response from the local job market, I’m spending too much time at home. Strange things happen when daddy’s home so much.
Recently CavGirl has decided she wants to poop on the potty. We had been making no headway on this agenda, and she had previously announced she’d start to do it when we went to the Farm (her grandparents). She had apparently changed her mind. This is a good thing in the overall scheme. But as those who’ve been through it (rather than letting child care take care of it) it has its moments. She’s only had one accident, usually going prior to naps or bedtime. She is still using a diaper at night. Except 2 nights ago… she decided to go her own version of commando. I don’t know what we were thinking- we probably weren’t since we were stunned by the announcement. This ended with her crying out in the middle of the night quite wet.
Last night was another go. We had a plan. In addition to the plastic undies, we would wake her up periodically to have her go pee. I was sent off to grab some ice cream, arriving home to her in the potty. Every few minutes she was going back to the potty, and doing business. Like 5 times. No, she was not sick. I don’t know where it all came from, but we alternated going in to help her wipe. It was getting downright wearisome. We couldn’t relax! And in between she had 500 comments and questions (God has given her 100,000 words a day). Finally she announces she wants a diaper. Whew! No additional wake ups (CavBoy is worth 2-3 per night for water).
Today I mowed our neighbor’s lawn (since they are away) and our own. It was probably about 90 degrees when all was said and done. I was dripping wet, hot and not wanting to be bothered. Our neighbor has a pool and we are free to use it. But I was hoping CavWife would take the kids shopping. She, of course, didn’ want to go with the kids. The compromise … we’d go in the pool now and she’d shop while the kids napped.
At some point, a friend’s pre-teen son seems to have told CavGirl that the pool vacuum will swallow you. Since our neighbor is away, the vacuum is in the pool. She is utterly terrified, afraid it will swallow us up. We show her that it will not hurt us. Still crying. Occasionally screaming. CavBoy is happily puttering around in his little float, grasping CavWife’s hand. The Girl continues to be traumatized- afraid for all of our lives. Our relaxing dip in the pool is anything but. After 45 minutes of evidence that no one has been swallowed by the pool vacuum, she tentatively enters the water. Who knew raising a child would have such irrational, irritating moments?! Was I like this?
Then there are the odd conversations I have with her. He only has 6 words, so there are no conversations. I asked her the other day about why she was angry. She’d been having a few rough days. I let her know that she was teaching her brother to do wrong. “I want to teach him to do wrong.” Ah … her depravity rears its cute little head. We talked some more about that. I apologized for the times I shouldn’t be angry, that I’ve taught her to do wrong. Our anger doesn’t help us live in a way that pleases God and helps others. We need to pray for Jesus’ help when we are angry and shouldn’t be.
Then there was the pool side conversation today after CavWife took CavBoy home to start lunch. “Do you like me?” she asked. “I like you, and I love you. Sometimes I don’t like the things you do.” “I like you, Daddy.” Despite the ways we disrupt her life with discipline, she thinks we are “good helpers”. She told CavWife that “God gave us a great mommy and daddy.” I guess we are doing something right, even in the midst of our frustration and confusion.
One last conversation. I was reading some of Dr. Roger Nicole’s Our Sovereign Savior at breakfast. I pointed to his picture and told her “This was one of my teachers. He is a very nice man, and very smart.” Her response, “Do you hug and kiss him?” Slight pause. “No, I don’t kiss him.”
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