6,570 Days

 My Lottie,

And now you are an adult. I laugh as I type that, though, because, as we have discussed, you’ll really always be my baby. In my mind and heart, you’re three or maybe four years old, listening to stories with wide-eyed wonder on your face asking us, “Whass gonna happen?”

The last six months or so have been a whirlwind of activity. Between working, school, SDMT, and socializing, you have been busy. It makes me so happy to watch you live your best life. I know that things get crazy and overwhelming sometimes, and I’m proud of you for learning to say no to things when you need to protect your peace. You’re a caretaker at heart, and I know you don’t like letting people down; I think it’s great to know your limitations and to realize that it’s okay to turn down offers to rest or just because you don’t feel like it. It’s an enviable quality that many adults don’t have, let alone a newly-minted adult.

I know that ending something can be bittersweet and scary; however, I think you’re ready to put high school in your rearview mirror. It was a rough patch when you had pneumonia and mono at the same time. You missed some senior activities and so much school. You persevered and made up all the work while also doing the work that was happening at that time in your classes. Honestly, you rocked it. Overall, high school hasn’t been terrible, and you have done a lot of maturing. It’s time, though. It’s time for you to move on to your next journey to the University of Wisconsin Eau-Claire. I am going to miss you desperately, and it doesn’t help that you have already been teasing me about that for months. But as much as I’ll miss you, I’m excited to watch you take flight. You have the skill and the drive to get whatever you want out of life, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do. Promise me that you’ll make time for fun, too. (I think Dad would want me to add not too much fun, though.)

When you’re up north next school year, I hope you realize that you’re capable of so many great things. I know that being away from home for the first extended period of time can be scary, but you’re up to the challenge. You know you can always call us or come home any time you need to, although I have a feeling you’re going to adapt to college life quite well. If you don’t, though, it’s not the end of the world. I hope you know in your soul that Dad and I always have your back.

You’re good at that, having people’s backs. You’re a fiercely loyal friend, sister, and daughter. If people mess with someone you love, it’s curtains for them. You’re not a pushover, though, and you expect that same loyalty in return. I appreciate is that you know that you deserve to be treated well, and you have high expectations of your friends. I have watched you learn that all people are fallible, and there is always a time and place for grace. These are qualities that will also come in handy with your eventual role in geriatric physical therapy or whatever career path you decide to follow. You will handily make any job your own with your humor, your work ethic, and your understanding.

You make us all laugh every single day. More importantly, you know how to laugh at yourself. Having a good sense of humor and the ability to not take things so seriously are true assets in life. Things aren't always fun and games, but if you can create fun in your life, you absolutely should. 

 

I’m forever proud of your strength, your values, and your confidence. I look at you, and I am in awe of your accomplishments, and more importantly, your kindness and empathy. Simply put, to me, you are magic. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. 

 

Happy 18th birthday, baby. 

I love you the mostest,

Mom

2,920 days

Dallas,

Today you are eight years old.  For some reason, this seems like a strange, in-between age because you're not quite big but you're not a baby anymore.

You're definitely growing and changing, even from day to day.  You are trying more things now, things that used to scare you or simply make you uncomfortable.  I don't think you are ever going to be a huge risk taker, but you're getting braver all the time.  I couldn't believe the number of crazy rides you and Lottie rode at the fair this year; you laughed and screamed and smiled while I stood watching from the sidelines.   That's good, though, and it makes me happy.  It means you're growing up and gaining independence, and that is what Dad and I have always tried to help you do.

You are still quite the rule follower at school, but I have noticed you beginning to test things a little at home.  Good for you!  Most of your actions are done with good humor and silliness, but I'm glad to see you breaking out of your shell a tiny bit.  After all, you're never going to learn from your mistakes if you don't allow yourself to make any.

You're ridiculously and adorably honest at all times.  If you don't want to do something, you have no problem just saying no politely and moving on. You don't feel the need to over-explain or lie; you just don't want to waste your time on something that doesn't interest you.  You are also insanely funny.  I don't think you even know how funny you are sometimes, but when you spout off some hilarious phrase with your serious voice and a glint in your eye, you absolutely make my day.

In some ways, you're still the same boy you have been since you were little.  One cross word makes your head go down and your lip tremble, even if you're not the one in trouble.  You take other people's pain as your own, and you try to prevent sadness for anyone whenever you can.  You're slowly learning that you can't stop bad things from happening, that you can only control your own reaction to those things.  

You love to cuddle and snuggle, especially at night, and you get a lot of joy from doing things for other people.  The thought of someone being bullied or left out makes you angry and sad, and I'm proud when you take the steps to help a friend.  You still take my hand when we walk through a parking lot, and I know that won't last too much longer.  While I have it, I relish feeling your warm, not-so-small hand holding on to mine.

Of course, you still love your Xbox, and this year you have moved more into being obsessed with Terraria, although Disney Infinity, Minecraft, Lego Dimensions, and Skylanders are all on the radar, too.  You enjoy reading almost as much as you like video games, and it makes my heart happy to walk by your room when you're lolling on the bed with a book.

Although it seems to get harder, you are a wonderful brother to Lottie.  As you both grow, you're arguing a little more, but I know that despite it all, you are there for each other when it counts.  Even when she bugs you, try to remember that she was your first best friend, and she will always be in your corner.

My wish for you this year is that you always continue to be the amazing boy that you are.  Keep loving and full-body laughing.  Ask for help when you need it, and give help where you can.  Remember that being kind is always the best choice to make, but don't ever let anyone put you down or treat you badly.  Stand up for what you know in your heart is right.

I love seeing you gain more and more confidence in yourself.  You can do so many things if you have

faith in your abilities and just give it a shot.  You're an incredibly smart kid, and you're resourceful, as well.  You have everything it takes to be great, and all I want is for you to be the best version of you that you can be.  Don't put so much pressure on yourself to be something or someone you're not.  You are SO loved just the way you are.

Thank you for making our family complete.

I love you, and I love you, and I love you,
Mom

Hallelujah!

Houston, we have potty training.  (I'll wait for you to pick yourself up off the floor before you continue reading...)

Before and during this adventure with Dallas, I read just about everything I could on the internet about potty training.  On one website, I was told that day three of a five day potty regiment would be the tipping point: either we would quit and go back to diapers or soldier on.  I was determined not to go back to diapers, so I was mentally prepared to keep going.  But Wednesday was quite a day.  There were SO many accidents, Dallas refused to sit on the potty when I asked him to, and I was over the whole thing.  I even texted Trevor at one point and told him we needed to have a serious talk about whether or not to bother enrolling Dal in the upcoming preschool year.  (Yeah, I know.  I overreact.  It's charming.  Dig?)  I know I cried on Wednesday; I'm just not sure how many times I cried.  Dallas also hadn't been sleeping well, so I knew that was part of the issue.  He's crabby when he's tired.  I wonder where on earth he gets that from?  At 4:30 Wednesday afternoon, he asked to go to bed.  I started to worry that he was sick, and I put him to bed hoping that a middle of the night vomiting session wouldn't derail the potty training process.  Not a problem.  He woke up at 7 PM to eat and then played his Leapster until about 9 PM.  

Add to the Wednesday woes when Lottie mentioned to me that she was feeling like she wasn't getting enough attention recently. Ouch. (Her exact words.  Sometimes smart kids make me mad.)  She was totally right, but it really hurt to hear it.  And I was still getting over the fact that I had backed into Trevor's car.  Before I went to bed that night, I decided that we would move forward with potty training no matter what, but I, personally, was giving up. If Dallas were still in diapers on Prom night, so be it.  That would be his date's problem, not mine.  Wednesday was a bad, bad day.

Thursday morning dawned and I was dreading another day of cheerily saying, "That's okay, honey!  Accidents happen!"  I mean, I fully believe that and I'm not angry when he has an accident, but there are only so many times I can say it without becoming either shrill or dead inside.  But something happened.  I don't know if Dallas benefitted from a good night's sleep or if a potty fairy took pity on my weeping, but Thursday was different.  I didn't push Dallas or lead him to the bathroom every thirty minutes.  I reminded him that he could go any time he wanted to go, and he could ask me for help whenever he needed me.  That was it.  And.  It.  Worked.  He told me when he had to go, we went in the bathroom together, and he did what he needed to do.  Victory!  I wasn't too excited, though.  It was a fluke, a one-time deal.  But then it kept happening and happening and happening.  The whole day he told me when he needed to go.  We even went to the park, to the hair salon, and to McDonald's with no accidents.  One huge milestone was that Dallas went on a "big" potty at the salon.  He was scared, but he sucked it up for momma and peed in a big potty.  What an amazing day!  We did have a couple of poop accidents, but I couldn't blame the kid there.  After all, the last time he pooped in the potty, he threw up.  So, you know, there has to be some aversion there.  I started to feel cautiously optimistic.  Could he really be getting it?

Friday was a brighter morning.  Lottie begged for Dallas to be able to go to the park with her: he had basically been exiled to the house with me for potty boot camp the whole week.  Our sitter, Nicole, was willing to take him along, with a backpack full of extra clothes, of course, and off they went.  No accidents.  They were gone for three hours.  No accidents.  Dallas ate lunch.  No accidents.  Dallas went potty.  The kids went to their grandparents in the afternoon.  No accidents.  The kids came home and played for a while.  Dallas pooped on the potty.  OMG.  This is what it feels like to have two potty trained kids.

I know that there will still be accidents.  Realistically, I know that this journey isn't over, but five days ago, I wasn't sure we would even be at this point today.  I have so many emotions running rampant through my head.  I'm so proud of how far he has come, and I love that he's proud of himself.  I feel sad that Lottie has felt neglected lately.  I have been really focused on getting my shoulder back into shape and getting Dallas to ditch his diapers, and she got a little lost in the middle of everything.  I'm proud of her for telling me how she was feeling and for forgiving me.  We have started reading Charlotte's Web together, and I'm enjoying the quiet, snuggly time with her.  Both of my kids are growing up so quickly.  Cliché as it is, time is flying.  Some days feel like they drag on and on, but as a whole, I don't know where the days are going.  Although I miss the sweet-smelling baby stage, I love watching the kids learn and grow and become who they're going to be.

All sappiness aside, for the first time in four years, six months, and twenty-six days, I AM DONE WITH DIAPERS.  Well, except at night, but that barely counts.  Cut me some slack, people.