Matching Tracksuits

Few things in life are more of a milestone for a child than to learn how to use the toilet. There’s tons of advice about when and how to begin. “Most children show signs of readiness to begin using the toilet as toddlers, usually between 18 months and 3 years of age,” writes one site. It continues,

These signs include staying dry for at least 2 hours at a time, having regular bowel movements, being able to follow simple instructions, being uncomfortable with dirty diapers and wanting them to be changed, asking to use the potty chair, or asking to wear regular underwear. You should also be able to tell when your child is about to urinate or have a bowel movement by his facial expressions, posture or by what he says. If your child has begun to tell you about having a dirty diaper you should praise him for telling you and encourage him to tell you in advance next time.

Well, L can’t communicate yet, and in fact she’s just learned how to sit up on her own. That doesn’t mean she can’t use a potty chair already. How do we know? Because she’s successfully used the chair several times.

Is this real “potty training”? I do indeed think so — we’re giving her an alternative to dirty diapers from an early age, and we’re showing her how “grownups” do it.

The key is knowing when she usually relieves herself. BMs are the easiest, because she announces it clearly and well in advance. But at least two times, we’ve sat her on the potty chair after eating when she wasn’t showing any signs, and within a few moments, she made use of the chair.

Our hope is that this will make “real” potty training more manageable. We’ll see in a few months…

When I was in Poland, I eventually reached a point in my linguistic development at which I understood everything going on around me. It wasn’t fluency, because in any given sentence there might be one or even two words I didn’t know, or couldn’t immediately place, but I learned that understanding 100% of the language doesn’t mean understanding 100% of the words spoken.

Once I reached that linguistic milestone, it felt I’d always been at that point. It felt like I’d always been able to understand everything, even though I knew it wasn’t the case. Like swimming and reading, understanding Polish was something I couldn’t remember what it was like not to be able to do. (What an awful example as a teacher I’m setting with that sentence! And this one…)

Today, we went to see my cousin and her recently-adopted baby. The little girl — S — is six weeks. She’s about a pound heavier than L when she was born. And I looked at that little girl, her eyes still mostly closed, and I couldn’t imagine L being that size. I know she was. We have the pictures to prove it. But, as with the language, I just feel she’s always been this size; that she’s always been able to hold her head up; that she’s always been able to look around, to smile, to cry from boredom, to giggle, to coo.

And then, a little voice: “That is how you’ll wake up one morning and realize she’s going off to college and for a brief moment, feel complete unprepared for it, and feel she’s completely unprepared for it.”

It’s not quite synonymous with “taking for granted,” but it’s awfully close.

And I think that’s one reason why I’m trying so hard to write in this silly blog so often. To mark the lines of development; to make a record for later — to make an online baby book.

Besides, what else am I going to write about in my newly realigned universe?

When playing with your child, some common sense is in order. After eating, for example, is not the best time for bouncy play.

That's fairly logical, but there's a derivative from this: after eating (up to, say, an hour after), avoid any play that places the child's head directly above your head.

As a newly washed car is to a bird, so your face, with it's stupid, wide-open-mouth smile, is to your child...