Paddling and puddling

It was a day of wins and losses.

Olaiya was a tired girl today. Our children typically hit the hay at 7:00-7:30p. The two of them going to bed in simulcast is only possible because little one still needs nap plus sleep, and eldest just gets sleep. She's good and ready to zonk out when the night closes in.

Last night (Sunday) we had our first small group - 7 couples, 13 children. We eat dinner all together, then the kiddos hang in the basement with child minders while the adults have Bible/book study and discussion. Small groups at NCC change semester-ly, and this is the first time there's been a couples small group for folks that go to the Ballston location (the neighborhood in Arlington where we go to church). It was a get-to-know-you type of evening and went long, which is a side-bar informative way to say that the girls weren't in bed until nearly nine.

So Mondays are swim lesson day. Thus it was decided before Papi left this morning that today would be a nap day. Olaiya never has nap days. She gets her obligatory 30 minute show (or two, if mommy's emailing, blogging, or chatting) when Naomi goes down ("Mo-om, is it time for Naomi's nap yet?"). As the premiere of Ni hao, Kai-lan (very exciting - think Dora, but in Chinese) came to an end, mama laid down the must-nap law. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Or more precisely, crying, kicking resistance that led to coughing. So mama asked if she wanted some water, she responded yes, and I said, "You lay here," tucking her into the futon. Knowing that the twice she has ever fallen asleep since our townhouse arrival was to the sounds of Nick Jr. Radio. Cue Radio. And ten minutes later, sleepness. To quote my friend: Mama: one, Olaiya: zero.

Post-slumber, dolly was none too chipper. Insert more weeping and gnashing of teeth. Or more accurately, (crying) "Please, please can I not go to swim lesson? I don't want to go to swim lesson today. Please mama, please." And mama was all, "Olaiya, you like swim lessons. You have fun at swim lessons. We won't get to see our friends...etc, etc. We signed up for this session and we're going to go. You need to get your shoes on." To which there was more of the aforementioned.

Then, God.

"Olaiya, do you want to pray about swim lesson?" And we did. And during that prayer the Holy Spirit said to me: "Tara, your daughter is just like you. Few things are worth doing unless you're with people. It's all about the people." And I said to Olaiya, "Olaiya! Thursday is Valentine's Day! Do you want to run to the store and get some Valentine's stuff for your friends and take it to swim lesson?" "Yeah!!" Tears gone. Shoes on. Mama: two, Olaiya: zero.

We had to hustle, but we got into the car, into CVS, where Olaiya chose some lovely red-netting bags of foil chocolate hearts, back to the car and into the Y across the street with enough time for us to form a game plan ("No candies 'til after lesson" and "Do you want to put them in your locker?" "Yeah!") and for Olaiya to exclaim, "Mommy, I love swim lessons."

And it was a *great* swim lesson - with paddling! Actual, non-assisted, paddling! For like couples of feet! And afterward, shiny happy Olaiya got to tell her two swim buddies that she had a surprise for them. She handed out Valentine candies from her locker to happy faces and hugs. And we're still on a Happy Swim Lesson streak.

Now to the less victorious.

Let me preface this with several facts.

I do not compare my children...often. But, Olaiya was a ridiculously motivated potty go-er. Not over zealously producing bodily fluids, but in wanting to put them in their appropriate destination. She was completely potty trained, underwear only, in mid-January. Now I say mid-January because my children's birthdays are a day apart (yeah, kind of lends itself to comparison game) and we're now mid-February with little one, and, well, you can guess from the post title.

Naomi hit what would be the historical "Lewis potty training age" as we were moving. Her first ever tinkle in the potty? Family restroom at Chicago O'Hare on our way out here. No lie.

Her second? In the third of three temp housing gigs. It was, again, a proud moment.

And since then, she goes on the potty here and there, basically whenever I notice that look in her eye and whisk her off to the potty and sit her down to do her bus'nass, or when it's convenient and she wants to be cool like her sister.

So Grandma and Grandpa*, having Child #1 as their primary example, inquire about any progress with Child #2. Because it was, in fact, Grandma who told Mama, "She's ready, you just need to put that girl in underwear." And I did, we went to Target, and we never looked back. So today, I talked to both Ma and Pa on the phone and I think I'm right about this, they both asked if any thing more was happening on the pt scene (because you know, on occasion, they receive the, "Naomi went pee/poop on the potty! Woowoo!" phone call).

So when today at lunch Naomi was all, "Poop. Poop." (read, pee) I dutifully took her up to the bathroom, where we took off her slightly damp diaper and underwear (once again, cool-like-sis factor). And we talked about the underwear. Pink. With little chick(en)s. With bows in their, um, feathers. Awesome. Then Naomi decided she wanted to go undies-only. Okay. She just peed. We'll be good for awhile. We go back to the table. "Mommy, poop. Poop." Up we go. Sit on the potty. Slightly wet undies. Replace undies. Back downstairs. This time, no pants, just undies. And, here we go again, but this time with the added bonus of a little puddle on the chair. Back upstairs. On the potty. "Now Naomi, you really need to try to go potty. Squeeze!" Feigns squeezing, giggle giggle. Then Papi calls. Naomi dismounts by herself and goes into her room. I relay the wetting of three pairs of underwear to Kurt. And Naomi comes up to me with two, princess colored Mega Blocks in her hand and says, "Poop. Icky." Yes, she peed, yet a little more on the floor in her room, on a couple toys.

So, bottom line, I say my daughter is not ready yet. And I postulate here why:

1. She is not a first child. She's not all about pleasing mommy and daddy and generally jumping through the "look what my kid can do", circus monkey hoops.

2. She doesn't go all at once! Olaiya must have been a master pee-er. When she went, it all went and I knew we were good until the next entrance or exit of our errands. None of this wet four pairs of panties in 20 minutes business!

3. We do not currently own a potty chair. Okay, so this is less about Naomi than it is her environment, or her mother for that matter. Because honestly, it's not the child who's potty training, it's the parent that's potty training. And this mama hasn't quite figured out yet how to approach potty training in a three level townhouse versus the potty training grounds of yore in the one level, 700 sqft apartment that had carpet I didn't care about. So, with this triple threat of things, we are not ready.

Mama: zero, the Naomi: one?

*No Grandmas and Grandpas were chastised in the making of this post. They are only loving, inquiring minds that want to know.