After flossing his teeth last night, Atticus started flossing his toes.
Today might possibly be the first time he has ever gone to the potty on his own without our telling him to or helping him whatsoever. We were in other rooms, and when I came out to check on him, he was just leaving the bathroom, his underwear still around his ankles, and he said, "I did it!" And sure enough, he had.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Atticus has now gone two days in a row without accidents! Took us about a month of potty training to get here, but works for me. He's still wearing diapers during naps and night time. I figure he should master wakeful potty use before being tasked with that. I love how he boasts, "I pee in there!" and "I poop in there!" He's just begun to want some privacy occasionally, especially if he's pooping. It's funny since not long ago, he demanded that I sit there next to him the whole time. I rewarded him last night with a train tattoo on his arm. Tonight he got one on his leg. Now I'm out of tattoos. Better stock up if this keeps up.
Several times now, Atticus has decided on his own that he needs a time out. He puts himself there sort of happily. If he walks away before I dismiss him and so I have to put him back, he cries. But afterwards, we hug, and he is agreeable and cooperative.
He still loves "Pumped Up Kicks," and kicks his legs and pumps his fists every time we listen to it.
We're working together on learning Spanish. So far, Atticus seems to have the Spanish words for dog and cat down. He's used a few other Spanish words too, but I'm not sure they've stuck. Meanwhile, I have learned a whole slew of Spanish words.
To really confuse him, I plan on studying French with him too. See, I can't decide which language to work on. I know French better than Spanish, so that seems more reasonable, but then again, Spanish is more practical. So we'll dabble in both. Maybe focus more on Spanish now, French later. I don't know. He does enjoy the French potty story Jean sent him a while back. I realize that I alone am not going to make him fluent in either, but I figure something is better than nothing.
Oh, and once again, I feel like he's going through some kind of mental growth spurt. His face is so freaking expressive now, it's creepy sometimes. He can make a terrible, evil child face. And he's always using those eyebrows.
He's been singing more too--starting to pick up song lyrics more easily.
Several times now, Atticus has decided on his own that he needs a time out. He puts himself there sort of happily. If he walks away before I dismiss him and so I have to put him back, he cries. But afterwards, we hug, and he is agreeable and cooperative.
He still loves "Pumped Up Kicks," and kicks his legs and pumps his fists every time we listen to it.
We're working together on learning Spanish. So far, Atticus seems to have the Spanish words for dog and cat down. He's used a few other Spanish words too, but I'm not sure they've stuck. Meanwhile, I have learned a whole slew of Spanish words.
To really confuse him, I plan on studying French with him too. See, I can't decide which language to work on. I know French better than Spanish, so that seems more reasonable, but then again, Spanish is more practical. So we'll dabble in both. Maybe focus more on Spanish now, French later. I don't know. He does enjoy the French potty story Jean sent him a while back. I realize that I alone am not going to make him fluent in either, but I figure something is better than nothing.
Oh, and once again, I feel like he's going through some kind of mental growth spurt. His face is so freaking expressive now, it's creepy sometimes. He can make a terrible, evil child face. And he's always using those eyebrows.
He's been singing more too--starting to pick up song lyrics more easily.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Atticus anecdotes of the day:
This evening I was complaining that the cat was in the way as I was trying to look up the Muppetts' Bohemian Rhapsody on YouTube so we could watch it on the tv, and without saying a word, Atticus stood up and shoved the cat off the coffee table. Awful, I know, but funny and sweet in a roundabout way.
The only thing that interests him in Seuss's One Fish, Two Fish... Is the "very, very bad fish." Tonight I said that that fish probably needs to go to time out, and A said, "Atticus go to time out." Then he patted his chest and said, "Atticus bad fish."
When I told him he's my son this afternoon, he pointed to the sun in the sky and said, that's mommy's sun.
The last few days I've developed a new strategy to help encourage Atticus to eat when he's reluctant. I say that the food is yucky and make all kinds of faces and noises, and then he happily eats and does the same. He ate a ton of broccoli tonight as a result. Worked the other night for carrot soup.
This evening I was complaining that the cat was in the way as I was trying to look up the Muppetts' Bohemian Rhapsody on YouTube so we could watch it on the tv, and without saying a word, Atticus stood up and shoved the cat off the coffee table. Awful, I know, but funny and sweet in a roundabout way.
The only thing that interests him in Seuss's One Fish, Two Fish... Is the "very, very bad fish." Tonight I said that that fish probably needs to go to time out, and A said, "Atticus go to time out." Then he patted his chest and said, "Atticus bad fish."
When I told him he's my son this afternoon, he pointed to the sun in the sky and said, that's mommy's sun.
The last few days I've developed a new strategy to help encourage Atticus to eat when he's reluctant. I say that the food is yucky and make all kinds of faces and noises, and then he happily eats and does the same. He ate a ton of broccoli tonight as a result. Worked the other night for carrot soup.
Friday, July 13, 2012
It's been kind of a rough week for Atticus and for us parents. Perhaps this is what they mean by terrible twos. Crying fits every night. Often many. It's not all bad. We chased each other around the house this evening on his various vehicles and read books, but boy.
Tonight the crying began because while he was sitting on the potty not long before bed, he took his bicycle helmet off (which he'd been wearing in order to have a helmet like the little girl in his book about going to the moon) and hit me a couple of times in the leg. It was sort of play-hitting, but a little rougher than I'd like, and he was definately challenging me. So I took the helmet away, and he wailed and wailed. The whole time I looked up out the bathroom window, calmly ignoring him. Eventually I looked back at him, and he didn't even notice because he was crying with his eyes squeezed shut. After a little while longer, I said, calmly, "Are you done?" To my surprise, he quieted, opened his eyes, and said, "yes." Then he smiled and said, "What's that?" as he pointed flirtatiously at his helmet.
After I brushed his teeth and put him in his pajamas, during which he wailed once again, he remarked on his tears. I explained what they were. Then he asked me to cry. I laughed several times before I managed to hunker down and think of the saddest thing possible--losing Atticus. As I cried, he studied me so closely like a little scientist or artist. Then we hugged.
Tonight the crying began because while he was sitting on the potty not long before bed, he took his bicycle helmet off (which he'd been wearing in order to have a helmet like the little girl in his book about going to the moon) and hit me a couple of times in the leg. It was sort of play-hitting, but a little rougher than I'd like, and he was definately challenging me. So I took the helmet away, and he wailed and wailed. The whole time I looked up out the bathroom window, calmly ignoring him. Eventually I looked back at him, and he didn't even notice because he was crying with his eyes squeezed shut. After a little while longer, I said, calmly, "Are you done?" To my surprise, he quieted, opened his eyes, and said, "yes." Then he smiled and said, "What's that?" as he pointed flirtatiously at his helmet.
After I brushed his teeth and put him in his pajamas, during which he wailed once again, he remarked on his tears. I explained what they were. Then he asked me to cry. I laughed several times before I managed to hunker down and think of the saddest thing possible--losing Atticus. As I cried, he studied me so closely like a little scientist or artist. Then we hugged.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
I've been receiving quite a few unprompted, sincere I-love-yous lately. It makes the whining moments much more tolerable.
Potty training is still going pretty well. I have to remind myself sometimes that it's only been two weeks and that the part of me expecting him to have it completely mastered by now is highly unreasonable and obnoxious. We've had many days with only one accident. None without any accidents though. That's the goal that's eluding us. Monday I started bribing him to poop in the potty because most of his accidents were of that variety. He'll lie to me about it while he's doing it. So I offered a trade: poop in the potty, chocolate in the hand. This has helped tremendously. He's made it to the potty quite a bit more.
Potty training is still going pretty well. I have to remind myself sometimes that it's only been two weeks and that the part of me expecting him to have it completely mastered by now is highly unreasonable and obnoxious. We've had many days with only one accident. None without any accidents though. That's the goal that's eluding us. Monday I started bribing him to poop in the potty because most of his accidents were of that variety. He'll lie to me about it while he's doing it. So I offered a trade: poop in the potty, chocolate in the hand. This has helped tremendously. He's made it to the potty quite a bit more.
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