But during the two weeks that we suffered through Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, the kids continued to ask about going to Grandpa’s pool. We told them that they couldn’t go until everyone was healthy again. That day finally came on Friday, and so on Saturday, we finally took the kids to Grandpa’s pool for the first time this summer. And this was when I discovered that Tiny’s swimsuit doesn’t really fit.

I bought it back in March- online from The Children’s Place. It was a little big, but not much and I figured she’d grow a bit in the next few months. I liked it because it had short sleeves (better protection from the sun) and ruffles on the butt (just so cute!)

The suit fits okay as long as it’s dry, but as soon as it gets soaked, the bottom part sags. I had to constantly pull the bottom half up so we wouldn’t get kicked out of Grandpa’s pool for indecent exposure. With the California cousins coming into town on Wednesday, I knew we’d be back at the pool several more times this week, so this afternoon we headed off to the mall in search of a new swimsuit for Tiny,

But of course, there are no swimsuits for sale in August. August is for back to school shopping, and the stores have already put out their fall displays- racks of jeans and cords and long sleeved shirts and sweatshirts. I get that some may want a jump on putting together a killer fall wardrobe for those first weeks back in the classroom, but hey, it’s still summer isn’t it?

T and I dragged Tiny and Buba from store to store (The Children’s Place, Sears, Gymboree, Hanna Andersson, Baby Gap, and Macy’s). Only Gymboree and Sears had swimsuits in Tiny’s size (size 12 months!) and that amounted to three options. We ended up buying a pale pink one-piece  from Sears (which cost $5 more than the one I bought in March!) that I don’t love, but that work for the next month. After purchasing the suit, we also checked Kohl’s, Carter’s, and the Disney Store, but none of those stores had any suits left either. I was thinking of making a trip up to Target tomorrow morning, but then I had this conversation with Tiny:

r: What do you think of your new swimsuit?

T: It’s good.

r: Do you love it?

T: I love it (said very unenthusiastically). I piddy sure I don’t need anodur one (she said with a tired grin).

I got the message. She doesn’t want to shop anymore. She doesn’t want to try on any more swimsuits. This one will do. However, when we talked to Grammy about our shopping adventure on the phone after dinner tonight, she said she’d check two more places, and I didn’t tell her not too.

But when she’s working on something tricky- like getting dressed or putting on her shoes and socks- and time has run out, you’d think that my offer to help was really just a horrible threat in disguise. They way she screams, kicks, hits- it’s insane. And so far today, we’ve been through this twice. Once when she needed to get her shoes on to go out for a playdate (she had about 10 minutes to do so, and did manage to get one on during that time), and once when she wanted to peel a sticker off of it’s waxy paper just before nap time (she’d been working on it for about 5 minutes and refused to let me start it for her).

I’m all for raising independent kids, and I’m willing to allow extra time so that my kids can do something for themselves. But there are certainly times when we are up against time, and I need to teach Tiny that getting help is not a bad thing. Any suggestions?

Tiny, I feel, will be very different from me in this area. She’s been wanting a say in what she wears each day since last summer (about 15 months old). Ever morning, I have to offer her choices or be prepared to listen to the consequences. She knows her wardrobe like the back of her hand, and she’ll request specific articles of clothing that are not presented to try to get me to offer her something different. And she LOVES shoes. At Christmas time, she threw a big fit when I had to remove her fancy shoes because I knew they were too small for her feet. She screamed, “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” Even when I showed her the red marks and indentations the shoes had made on her feet.

So it didn’t surprise me at all that Tiny picked these shoes when we went shopping recently:

They were not at all what I had in mind when we headed to the shoe department at Target. I wanted a nice summer shoe- a sandal but with covered toes. Target had no such things for little girls, but it didn’t seem to matter. Because when Tiny saw those shoes with all the colors and sparkles, it was love at first sight. She put them on easily all by herself, and was just so happy to walk around in them that I knew we would be taking them home with us.

But on that particular night, the crying didn’t stop, and by 3:25am, Tiny wasn’t just crying, she was screaming, “Mommy! Mommy!” This had never happened before. Never. She had never ever called for me in the middle of the night. Not even when she was sick with a stomach bug.

I rolled over towards T, and we both agreed that I should break our no intervention policy and go to her. When I got to the kids’ room, Tiny was standing up in her crib, and she immediately reached out for me. Unfortunately, Buba began to stir at that same moment, so now I had two crying kids on my hands. I quickly removed Tiny from the bedroom and took her into the kitchen, thinking that maybe Buba wasn’t fully awake and would go back to sleep, but no such luck. He continued to cry and scream for me as I worked to calm Tiny down.

The whole house was dark, and I could see that Tiny was somewhat surprised by that. As I checked to see if she felt feverish, I explained that it was still nighttime and that T and Pokey were sleeping. I told her that she and Buba needed to go back to sleep too and asked if she was ready to go back to her crib. She agreed, and then I went through the whole thing again with Buba.

With both kids calm again, I headed back to bed. I could hear them chatting for another 30 minutes or so, and was still awake more than an hour after I’d first heard Tiny’s cries. But in the morning, I still felt fairly rested and just hoped that the night waking was a one-time only deal.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights both kids slept right through as usual, but Saturday night (technically Sunday morning) just after midnight, Tiny woke up crying again. Her cries were not quite as loud, and I hoped she’d fall back to sleep quickly, but she didn’t. She was screaming, “Mommy! Mommy!” just as before, but this time I felt more conflicted about what to do. If I went to her, would the night waking become a habit? Would Tiny start to expect to see me in the middle of the night? But before I even rolled over to voice my thoughts, T said, “Don’t go in.” He was thinking that the night wakings would only continue if Tiny knew I would come each time and that she was old enough to self-soothe and get herself back to sleep.

So I didn’t go in, but I sent T to discreetly scope out the situation. He came back to report that she seemed fine, was not caught in the crib bars or anything and that she appeared to be winding down. Right about this time, Buba woke up and cried a bit, but he was able to get back to sleep pretty quickly and luckily slept through the rest of Tiny’s on and off crying, which lasted about 50 minutes in total.

By 1:15am, the house was quiet again (except for T’s snoring), so I quietly crept down to the kids’ room to see for myself that Tiny was okay. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep without checking in on the kids for myself. Once I saw that they were both sleeping peacefully, I crawled back into bed and hoped to sleep soundly until morning.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be a horrible night for me. While everyone else slept the night away, I tossed and turned and had horrible dreams when I did finally sleep. I think I may have gotten roughly 4 hours of sleep that night, and I woke feeling groggy and cranky.

Thankfully, last night we all slept soundly, but who knows what’s in store for the nights ahead. I mean, we’ve had 17 months of kids’ sleeping through the night, and I guess I just assumed that it would continue that way forever. Why is Tiny suddenly waking up when she’s been such a good sleeper for so long? I suppose I should go and dig out the Weissbluth book before I find myself awake in the middle of the night again wondering what to do.

Me: Guess what! Ona’s mommy has a new baby!

(No reaction whatsoever from Buba.)

Tiny: Ona’s mommy have new baby. (thinking… processing…)

Me: That’s right. A little, tiny baby.

Tiny: It go rock-a-bye baby. (Tiny says, doing the sign for baby.)

Me: Yes. Now Ona has a little sister.

Tiny pauses for a minute and then looks at me with eyebrows low and  a little crinkle in the middle of her forehead.

Tiny: Tiny, no have little sister. (She says shaking her head from side to side.)

Me: (I’m smiling, but my eyes are getting all teary.) That’s right. Tiny doesn’t have a little sister. But you have a brother, and that’s lots of fun. Right?

Tiny: (looking over at Buba) Dats lota fun.

I know that Tiny’s comment about not having a little sister was not so much a request or a longing on her part, but just her way of a making sense of things. (She processes like this all the time, but that’s for another post.) But I couldn’t help feeling a little sad, knowing that my baby days are over for good and Buba and Tiny will not have another sibling.

T started saying “one and done” the moment we found out we were having twins. But I held out hope for a long time that we would have just one more. Every time the topic was up for discussion, it wasn’t fun. We both held firm on our positions, and finally, just last spring, I gave in. Tiny and Buba were just over a year old and I was working on making our travel plans back to my hometown in Iowa. After almost having a heart attack over what the airfare was going to cost us (we bought the kids seats, at the recommendation of another MOT) I began to imagine how much more it would be if we had a third child (or, gasp!, another set of twins). Suddenly T’s argument regarding the costs of having a larger family began to make sense, and I told him that I could be perfectly happy with our family of four.

And I am perfectly happy. But I still think sometimes about what it would be like to have just one more.

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If you haven’t already done so, be sure to check out yesterday’s post to enter my Humpty Who? giveaway.

I definitely cannot take credit for this ingenious idea. I got it from one of Sarah’s posts over at How Do You Do It?

I bought Tiny three pairs of these capris last summer (blue, dark pink, and light pink) in size 9 months. But she barely wore them because they were so big in the waist. Now, they fit perfectly in the waist and are a great length for shorts on these early, warm-weather days. So, thanks for the tip, Sarah!

However, since Tiny was about 12 months old, clothing her has become somewhat difficult. When she was a baby, I could just throw on a cute little one piece outfit and it didn’t make a difference that the tag said 0-3 months even though she was right around 6 months. But once she turned one, I wanted to put her in two piece- shirt and pants- outfits that made her look more like a little girl and less like a baby. And that was tricky.

I’ve never had a big problem with tops. Tiny’s shirt sleeves are always a little long, but they can easily be rolled up. Pants however, are consistently problematic. If the waist fits comfortably, the length is often too short. And if the length is just right, the waist is way too big. Until recently, I was able to solve this problem by buying pants a size too big and then rolling the waist band over. This made the waist smaller and, at the same time, the length shorter.

But in the last couple of months, I became aware of another important variable in finding pants that would fit Tiny just right. The diaper. Yes, it seems that her diaper provided just enough bulk to make the waist-band-rollover trick work like a charm. And now that she wears her big girl underpants, her pants are falling down all the time.

I know that she can’t be the only small waisted child out there. And I’m hoping that I might be to find some line of clothing made especially for kids like Tiny. Until then, I’ll keep praying for warmer weather and start shopping for some nice cotton dresses for summer.

p.s. Don’t forget to enter my very first giveaway! All entries must be submitted by 9pm tomorrow (3/16) night.

All Tiny:

“Hello, Nammy? It time clean up.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Mess, mess, mess!”

“Time clean up.”

“No, no Daddy. No work day. No work.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“No Nammy bacation. Nammy home.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Clean up.”

“Ok. Yep. Ludoo. Bye-bye!”

I love that her pretend phone calls give me some insights as to what she’s understanding. She clearly knew it was time to clean up the big mess in her room, even though she chose not to help. And she understood that T wasn’t going to work that day and maybe that we’d be going to Grammy’s house now that she’s home from her vacation.

Her “Ludoo” at the end is her pronunciation for Love you.

We started right away on Saturday morning. I told Tiny that she was no longer going to wear diapers anymore, except for naps and nighttime sleep. Instead, she would wear her big girl panties and use the potty. Tiny seemed much in agreement with this plan so we were good to go. She had a successful experience on the potty before getting dressed, and was over the moon with all the praise she got. Even Buba clapped his little hands and shouted, “Yaaaaaaaay!”

After breakfast, I gave Tiny some water to fill up her bladder and give us more opportunities to practice getting to the potty. We had four pretty major accidents within about two hours time, and I was definitely feeling frustrated. I knew that I needed to be cheerful and encouraging as I constantly reminded her to let me know when she needed to use the potty, so I did my best to keep it up. Roughly 5 hours into day one, Tiny looked at me and timidly said, “potty.” Of course, I scooped her up and ran to the potty chair. I nearly knocked her over trying to pull her training pants down. Then I helped her sit down on the potty and sat their holding my breath…

SUCCESS!!! We were all going nuts with praise. Tiny was beaming from ear to ear. And it seemed that that one moment turned our whole day around. Tiny still had two more major accidents before the day was over, but for the first time, I felt certain that she was learning. She was beginning to make the connection between realizing she needed to go and understanding that she would allow her body to release while sitting on the potty.

Day two went splendidly well with only one major accident and one minor one. And day 3 (today), so far, not one single accident (knock on wood). She even put herself on the potty after lunch while I was cleaning up Buba. I turned around, and there she was, pointing to the potty and saying, “Ma clean it!”

I can’t say for certain that it was the 3 Day Potty Training plan itself that worked for us. After all, I had already done (and in some cases continue to do) several things that Lora Jensen advises against. Plus, I ignored some of the advice that I knew I just couldn’t carry out. But I do think it was a combination of readiness and consistency that helped us get to the place where we are now.

Of course, I know there will be more accidents, and getting out and about may be a bit challenging for a while, but I’m so glad I decided to press ahead with the potty training. One down, one to go…