Mommy Shorts

Potty Training: When To Start

Mazzy is 17 months and has started to tell us when she's pooping. She gets very still, her eyes go wide and then she stares straight through me while quietly repeating the word "POOP". It's like she's trying to warn me that the POOP is about to attack me from behind. I asked Dr. B if this means I should start potty training.

Short answer: How much do you like cleaning shit off a bathroom floor?

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Dr. B has a PHD in school psychology and specializes in early development.

Children usually begin to show signs they are ready for potty training between the ages of 18 and 30 months. Boys tend to start later than girls. Most children achieve mastery before the age of 5.

Nevertheless, the initiation of potty training should be based on what your child can do, not your child’s age. Additionally, many experts recommend waiting until 30 months before starting to potty train even if a child begins to show readiness signs earlier.

Waiting until your child is physically, emotionally, and intellectually ready increases the likelihood that he/she will achieve success early on, while pushing your child before he/she is ready has the potential to result in resistance to training and unnecessary frustration for all parties involved. 

10 Signs Your Toddler is Ready For Potty Training

1. Your child dislikes being in wet or soiled diapers.

2. Your child knows the difference between being wet or dry.

3. Your child tells you when they are urinating or about to have a bowel movement.

4. Your child expresses interest in using the toilet, in his/her bowel movements, in how others use the bathroom, and/or in wearing underpants.

5. Your child can pull his/her pants up and down.

6. Your child stays dry for at least 2 hours during the day and has dry diapers after naps.

7. Your child has bowel movements at regular, predictable times.

8. Your child has the muscle control to hold their urine or bowel movement to get to the toilet.

9. Your child can understand and follow simple directions.

10. Your child can get to the potty, sit on it, and get off the potty.

When your child begins to show some of the signs above, you should start increasing their interest and readiness by talking to them about going to the bathroom. Below is a list of methods you can use to better prepare your children for the potty training process.

Parenthood Isn't Sexy

Life gets a lot less sexy when a kid enters the picture. And I'm not just talking about the undergarments. Although if you've seen my "Fancy Undergarment Trajectory Chart", you know— it's not pretty.

Compelling as that is, I'm talking about something else. I'm talking about the things my husband has witnessed, the things that I have witnessed, the things that we have participated in together and... WELL. These are not the things of which foreplay is made.

For instance— the breast pump (yes, I am revisiting that again). A wise friend once told me that the second your husband sees you with a milking apparatus strapped to your chest, all sex appeal goes out the window. My fix? I swore I would never let Mike see me do the deed.

Oh, the things our brain lets us believe before we have children.

I thought if I pumped at home, I would do it in the privacy of my bedroom, with music drowning out the sound of the motor and a silky bathrobe demurely sashed around my waist when the task was complete.

Well, that plan didn't take into account the fact that breast pumping is done several times a day and is also THE MOST BORING THING imaginable. I learned that if I'm going to spend precious evening-time tethered to an outlet, that outlet is going to be at my kitchen counter. Where I have a place to put my laptop. And access to snacks.

EDITOR'S NOTE: If you had told Mike that parenthood meant there would be a topless woman at his kitchen counter doling out free drinks every night— I'm sure he would have pictured the exact opposite of what actually went down. (Sorry, babe.)

You know what else isn't sexy?

BABY DIARRHEA.

(See?)

I believe parenthood is split into two parts. Before and after— THE BIG DIAPER BLOWOUT.

Let me demonstrate.

It was early evening. Mazzy was about four months old. She was fed and getting our full attention, but acting moody and distracted regardless.

Then she made the face. You know the face? Confusion mixed with extreme concentration.

It stunk immediately.

Mike and I looked at each other, instinctually knowing this was going to be a two-person-job.

Before we even made it to the changing table, we discovered the poop had traveled straight up her back. We detoured to the bathroom.

Mike held Mazzy dangling over the tub while I stripped off her clothes.

I reached the diaper. It was COVERED. Inside and out.

I looked at Mike. Surely he would impart some knowledge on the best method for me to remain poop-free. The man has a preferred method for EVERYTHING (you may think I'm speaking sexually here but actually I'm talking about things like cutting a tomato and refilling hand soap canisters).

Mike shrugged. He had nothing.

I took a deep breath and carefully unfastened one diaper tab. Then the other. Then I summoned up all my surgical expertise (gleaned from playing and replaying the game of Operation as a child) and attempted to remove the diaper with as little movement as possib—

She kicked her leg.

It splattered.

Not just anywhere.

ON MY FACE.

Mike laughed and laughed in a way that said— "This image of you with shit splatter on your face will be ingrained forever."

Awesome.

You wanna have sex now?

I thought not.

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Okay— your turn. Give me your unsexiest parenting moment or biggest diaper disaster.

UPDATE: I picked the top six stories from the comment section below and from the Mommy Shorts Facebook Fanpage am pitting them against each other in a post entitled: Unsexy Parenting: Now a Competitive Sport. Vote for your favorite!

Caption Contest Queen & The Sick Bastard Award

This week's caption contest was an exciting one with more than one person claiming to be deeply disturbed by the photo above. Nicky's mom even felt the need to defend her parenting choices in the comment section. Here's what she said (I'm paraphrasing)— 1) The car was not moving. 2) Nicky was in the front seat because she was nursing him. 3) Her hands are abnormally large. 4) No, actually they are her husband's hands. 5) Oh, so your husband breastfeeds now? 6) No, I just handed the baby to him after I was done. Did I mention it was 6:30am and we were at a Cracker Barrell?

Nuff said, Nicky's mom. We won't pretend to understand. But we believe you when you say "No babies were harmed or put at risk in the making of this photograph."

On to the winners. Our Current Caption Contest Queen— Roo of {Nice Girl Notes} has given her verdict. The winner is....

Kevin Blah who said...

"Mazda was the first major manufacturer to have baby-shaped air bags. And while they save lives, please do not attempt to reload them by shoving them back into the steering wheel."

Congratulations, Kevin! You are the new Caption Contest Queen and will have the honor of judging the next caption contest. Please wear your crown proudly. Prance even. Women love that.

I'm thrilled to award Kevin Blah the crown since he has entered every caption contest so far. His captions are always brilliant but usually take one step too far into "The Land of Uneasiness" for the judges to select him as Queen. The irony is that this time, Kevin's caption was not the caption in the poorest taste. Not by a long shot. That honor goes to Brian S. who I will be handing "The Kevin Blah Sick Bastard Award" for submitting...

"Check it out... my boner looks like a baby."

OK. If you are not laughing, than reread the caption and take a look at the picture AGAIN. I haven't stopped laughing since yesterday when it showed up like a diamond encrusted turd in my inbox. Well done, Brian S.

As for the rest of you?

I'm giving "The Bruce Jenner Award" to New Mom on the Blog who said...

"At only 6 months old, little Nicky had already learned the tough lesson of botched Botox."

"The Volkswagon Lemon Award" goes to Nixon's Mom who said...

"Dad, please get your horn fixed already. My throat hurts."

"The Clarice is Screaming Award" goes to Windycitygigi who said...

"The laaaaaaambs. I hear the laaaaaaambs."

And finally, "The Worst Celebrity Offspring Award" goes to Kate who said...

"Look at my eyes. Do you see my eyes? This is my best Audrina Patridge-Al Pacino eye impression. LOOK AT MY EYES."

And in case you have no idea what Kate is talking about, I present EXHIBIT A:

For the record, I have never seen Audrina's pupils touch the bottom rims of her eyes. You can find the original contest with all the entries by clicking here.

Okay, everyone. I am off to a remote location with no internet access, otherwise known as my mom's condo in the Hamptons. This no internet thing is a new development. Apparently, she has been stealing it from her neighbors for the past five years and they have moved. I'm sorry— I hear her correcting me from 100 miles away. She says she was "borrowing it with consent."

Have a Happy Memorial Day Weekend! Hope it's full of good weather, perfectly toasted hamburger buns and tantrum-free toddlers.

— Mommy Shorts

Who needs Oprah?

Apparently, yesterday was Oprah's last show. The universe would not shut up about it. Basically, Oprah's show was to yesterday what the Rapture was to Saturday. Except the Rapture actually happened. Wait. WHAT?

I'm not sure I understand all the tears shed over the end of the show since, unless I'm mising something, there will be an entire Oprah network in it's place. But I was never a huge fan so perhaps I'm not the best person to judge the sorrow of her loyal followers. Not that I am anti-Oprah. She seems nice enough. In an "I-influence-every-decision-you-make-whether-you-know-it-or-not" kind of way.

I thought it would be fitting to do a "Favorite Things" post. Not Oprah's favorite things because "been there, done that" and not MY favorite things because Lulu Lemon pants and Haagen-Dazs coffee ice cream just make me sound like the biggest cliche since Peggy Bundy sat on the couch all day watching soap operas and inhaling bon-bons. (My God— doesn't that sound FANTASTIC?)

Nope, today I am giving you...

(From this point forward, I request that you read everything with Oprah intonation and insert audience insanity sound effects.)

...MAZZY'S ULTIMATE FAVORITE THINGS!!!!!!!

(Are you hearing the audience insanity sound effects? Because if not, please try harder— this post is a joint effort. Thank you.)

OK! CALM DOWN! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF! I know this is exciting but no need for the screaming and the jumping and the fainting.

(Don't listen to me— continue with the sound effects.)

Ready?

I said— READY?????!!!!!!

First up, I've got Mazzy's favorite beverage. Suri drinks it. Shiloh drinks it. Even Rachel Zoe's kid drinks it when the poor thing thinks Rachel Zoe isn't looking. Mazzy's Favorite Thing #1 is...

MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moving on to Favorite Thing #2. Mazzy can't keep her hands off them. She likes to pull them off my face, steal them from my nightstand, bend them, step on them, squash them, hide them. It's none other than...

Myyyyyyy GLAAAAAASSSSSSESS!!!!!

What could Mazzy love more than milk and glasses? How 'bout her proudest possession. Something she routinely shows off to everyone she sees. Favorite Thing #3 is her very own...

BELLLLLLLLYYYY!!!!

Favorite Thing #4 litters every mall in America. It's pink, fluffy and practically an epidemic. But every time Mazzy sees it, she can't help but rest her head. Gifted by Grandma, it's a...

PILLOOOOOOOOOOW PET!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm sure nobody will be surprised by Favorite Thing #5. It's the passive-aggressive-name-dropping monster I've talked about many times before. An item so special that when Mazzy is not playing with it, she will often leave it resting on Favorite Thing #4. Let's hear it for...

Miniature ELLLLMOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

The second Mazzy hears me turn on Favorite Thing #6, she runs full speed into the bathroom, corners me at the sink and requests more more more until she basically ruins any chance I have of getting to work on time. It's my...

HAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIRRRRR DRYYYYYYYYYYER!!!!!!!

 

Every Favorite Things Episode has to have the big give— the car, the trip to Australia, the iPad. I didn't think it was possible for Mazzy to love anything more than miniature Elmo. But I was wrong. SO VERY WRONG. Introducing Mazzy's Ultimate Favorite Thing, none other than...

GIIIIIIIIIIIANT ELLLMOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

I should note that I was not present for this picture. Mike took Mazzy to the Central Park Zoo (Giant Elmo's current residence unbeknownst to me) last Saturday while I got a haircut. As much as I hate Elmo, I don't think I've ever been sadder to miss a moment in Mazzy's life. I can't even imagine the level of excitement she exhibited upon seeing the larger than life version of her favorite thing on earth.

Oh wait. Yes, I can. It probably looked something like this:

Hope your first day without Oprah's show isn't too tragic.

Dr. B Teaches Toddlers Patience (It's About Time!!!)

Mazzy has been exhibiting less than stellar behavior lately. (Do I have to remind you about the "Toddler Fight Club" video from last week?) Specifically, her patience is at a level that is very reminiscent of her father and me before we got iPhones. Translation: LOW. Things escalate from 0-60 faster than I can blink let alone run into the kitchen and pour a cup of juice or fish a pacifier out of the diaper bag or fast forward an episode of Sesame Street straight to (I'm doing it! I'm doing it!) Elmo's World.

Also, I left a playground the other day because Mazzy couldn't handle the line for the swings. (But I blame that more on the dumbass who created a playground with only TWO SWINGS. Do people get fired at playground-planning companies? BECAUSE THEY SHOULD.)

Like most parents, Mike and I have attributed this lack of self-control as a natural part of the toddler years. But this past weekend we had a brief moment where Mazzy got upset, lied face down on the floor and started beating her fists and kicking her feet like a cartoon drawing of your typical temper tantrum. OH NO.

That was the moment I decided to seek some professional advice. Because if there is anything I could be doing to nip this behavior in the bud, I want to know about it. And you probably would too, right?

Thankfully I've got Dr. B at my disposal to give us all a lesson in teaching patience and self-control.

Caption Contest

Say hello to Nicky. Nicky's mom (@ringeddragon) assures me that there is nothing in the above photo that warrants a call to child protective services. She says Nicky's dad was merely showing off his two new chompers. I'm not entirely convinced. I haven't seen eyes crying for help that loudly since I begged my mom to donate to Sally Struther's "Feed the Children" campaign back in the early eighties.

What do you think? Perhaps Nicky is begging for money to spend on premature orthodonture. Or maybe Nicky's dad is practicing a bizarre form of human puppetry. More importantly— is any of this safe in the front seat of a car? You decide in the comment section below.

Captions will be judged by the Current Caption Contest Queen— Roo of {Nice Girl Notes}. She will crown the new Queen on Friday in a very elaborate ceremony that exists solely in my head. Bradley Cooper will be attending and the dress code is pantless, so I expect tickets to sell fast.

What else will the Queen get besides her fancy new crown? The supreme honor of judging the next caption contest, of course.

Good luck!

Mommy Shorts Meets Mommy Pants

When I started blogging, one of the first people I reached out to was a woman named Cheryl who writes a blog called Mommy Pants. I think my email went something like— "Hi! I'm Shorts! You're Pants! We should be best friends!"

Thankfully, Cheryl was more than gracious.

I have since come to look up to Cheryl in many ways— as a more seasoned blogger, a more experienced mom, an exceptional writer and as someone who has graduated to umm... more leg coverage.

Plus she is (one of) the brains behind The Red Dress Club— a community of writers that gives the prompts I often link up to on Fridays.

So when Cheryl asked me to guest post for her today, I was all— "What? Really? Ummm....OK!!!!"

I wrote about my experience breastfeeding throughout my first year of motherhood. Or more specifically, my complicated relationship with my breast pump.

Well, it's not that complicated. I hated the pump and the pump felt nothing. Kind of like my relationship with my retainer in junior high school.

To be fair, the pump made it possible for me to continue breastfeeding while also maintaining a full-time job, so I *guess* that's a pretty cool thing. But when I think about having Baby #2, that boob-milking contraption is on top of my list titled— "Do I Really Want To Go Through That Again?"

(It's right below "complete and utter exhaustion" and right above "trying and failing to get the spit-up stain out of my favorite shirt". What? You thought I didn't ACTUALLY have a list?)

So pop over to Mommy Pants, read my post and check out her site as well.

And if you're visiting from Mommy Pants— check out some of my most popular Red Dress Club posts:

Intruder in the House

Breaking Up With Myself on Craig's List

How To Work A Breakfast Buffet

Or if you like to keep on theme, I give you— The Breast Pump: A Major Motion Picture.

Parental Tweet: On Mornings

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Recap: Mariah Carey, Tyler Durden & Baby Gaga

Is there anything better than a baby discovering bubbles for the first time? Certainly not the subsequent screaming for BUBBLES BUBBLES BUBBLES every moment of every freakin' day from that point forward. (The word "freakin" was brought to you by the people upset with the vulgarity of yesterday's post.)

Speaking of posts (segue alert), remember the post I wrote a few weeks ago about "Regrettably Childish Tattoos"? Afterwards, my friend Brian (aka Uncle Brian and also the man behind The Karate Baby poster) sent me the picture below.

That's my husband Mike's head tattooed on Brian's shoulder. Apparently, this is how single men from LA spend their time between freelance jobs and tanning opportunities— using photoshop to create fodder for mommy bloggers. At least, I HOPE that's photoshop. Otherwise, between the Mike tribute and the mustache, I'm starting to get a whole new understanding of why Brian is still single.

What else happened these past two weeks besides Mike getting totally creeped out by his friend?

• We visited "Roc & Roe" in the mall food court (try the shrimp tempura rolls— they're delicious!)— I mean, Congratulations, Mariah Carey!

• We learned where "Pantless Bradley Cooper" falls on "The Ideal Mother's Day Vortex"

• We blamed Calista Flockhart for my co-ed office bathroom

• We kept our toddlers far far away from bowling alleys

• We coveted the role of thy uncle

• We gave Mike a collective pass for turning the baby into Tyler Durden

• Dr. B gave us tips for playing with our toddlers outdoors

• Mazzy got awarded the one-on-one date on The Bachelor

• And we expanded our book collections to include an incredibly tasteful *ahem* selection of new childhood classics

Also— I left the comforts of Mommy Shorts and guest posted a few times this week. You can find me at...

• "The Truth About Motherhood" talking about my awkwardness around children

• "Mommy of a Monster" talking about an unfortunate crayon incident

• "Mama Wants This" answering questions and accepting a caption contest challenge

• And lastly, "The Little Mumma" surprised me with a "Heads Up!" feature.

Congratulations once again to Shawna, Sarah, Stacey, Danielle and Kendra for winning "The Mother of All Cupcakes" giveaway. Their orders have been placed and they have promised to send back pictures. Then I am going to eat them.

I will leave you with an image I saw in New York Magazine of Lady Gaga drawn by Ariel Schrag— or as she describes the look— Baby Gaga (pictured left).

I'm not sure I would dedicate Mazzy to this particular cause BUT— if Lady Gaga ever sets her sights on an Elmo-kill coat, she should give me a call. I've got at least two that would happily die for fashion.

Have a good weekend!

— Mommy Shorts

 

5 Totally Inappropriate Children's Books

When I was little, I had a book of cartoons called "100 Horrible Ways To Die". I'm not sure how old I was when someone made the decision this was an appropriate book for a child (cute pictures!) but I do remember that my favorite "horrible way to die" was a sky diver parachuting into the swirling blades of a helicopter.

On a related note, I received an email a few weeks ago about the book "Go the Fuck to Sleep". Have you read it? My mother forwarded it to me so I assume the only people left who haven't seen it are locked in Tom Cruise's basement (Hi, Katie!).

Just in case, the book includes prose like:

"The wind whispers soft like the grass, hon.
The field mice they make not a peep.
It's been thirty-eight minutes already.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck? Go to sleep."

It's pretty genius. Which got me thinking— are there other "children's books that are not really meant for children" out there?

An evening's worth of research led me to five others I found worthy of sharing. And just for fun, I'm going to list them in descending order. Five being most appropriate and one involving an ass raping superhero (wait for it).

5) All My Friends Are Dead, by Avery Morsen & Jory John

The adorably dark "All My Friends Are Dead" also features houseplants, zombies and cassette tapes. Perfect to get the "what happens when we die?" discussion started with your kids. I hear parents LOVE when that comes up.

4. The Taking Tree, written by Shrill Travesty and illustrated by Lucy Ruth Cummins

A parody of Shell Silverstein's "The Giving Tree"— possibly the saddest book of all time. (Can someone explain to me why we all loved this book as a kid?) "The Taking Tree" on the other hand, includes lines like— "The tree was his best friend. Which shows what a loser the kid was." Zing!

3. Monsters Eat Whiny Children, by Bruce Eric Kaplan

I found this book at Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago and fell immediately in love. It's about two whiny children taken by two even whinier monsters who fight over how to cook them. Ultimately, the book teaches children a valuable life lesson: Whining leads to kidnapping and death. (Editor's Note: If you have an older kid (5 maybe?), buy this book— it's awesome.)

2. My First Dictionary: Corrupting Young Minds One Word at a Time, by Ross Horsley

"My First Dictionary" features a listing of innocuous words and childlike pictures accompanied by definitions meant for Bob Saget.

Some examples:

1. Ice Cream & Sadness, by Kris Wilson, Matt Melvin, Rob Denbleyker and Dave Mcelfatric

Ice Cream & Sadness is a book of short comic strips much like the ones you remember from when you were little— like Garfield or Calvin & Hobbes. That is— if they were all having a three-way involving necrophilia.

A taste:

And because I promised...

I advise making a splash with these books at your next baby shower or first birthday party. If someone calls you out for poisoning the minds of young children, just remind them that Little Red Riding Hood's Grandmother was eaten by a wolf and "The Old Lady Who Lived In A Shoe" was a whore.

Related: Check out @SaidKristin's post— Mother Goose Was One Demented Broad