It's that time. Time to potty train my youngest child.


After potty training 2 boys, I have come up with this list of must-haves for Potty Training:

*Lots of character-themed underwear
*M&Ms or other small treat
*Potty Power dvd
*potty seat for the big potty
*stepstool to reach potty
*timer(alarm on cell phone works well)
*lots of juice
*carpet cleaner
*lots of paper towels
*several bottles of wine


1. Start off the morning by having child watch the Potty Power dvd. Point out all the cute little songs and talk about using the potty as the DVD plays.


2. Strip your child and put him in cute character-themed underwear. Tell child that Buzz Lightyear or Diego or whoever is on the underwear doesn't want to get all yucky with pee or poop.

3. Take child to the potty and have them try to use the potty. Congratulate them for trying and give them an m&m.

4.  Set alarm for 30 minutes from now. Watch Potty Power dvd while child drinks juice.

5. Repeat steps 3&4 over and over again.  Should child successfully use the potty, you can extend the time til the alarm goes off next.


6. Paper towels, carpet cleaner, and spare underwear should be used as needed.


7. After the third accident of the morning, eye the wine.


8.  Continue with the potty alarm, potty dvds, and repeated talk about using the potty.


9. Consider opening bottle of wine at lunch.


10.  Consider waiting another few months to potty train after the 5th accident of the day.


11.  Wonder if you have enough wine in the house.


12.  Sneak some m&ms because you deserve a treat, too.


13.  Calculate the price of a single pair of Thomas the Train underwear and realize that it's not worth cleaning a big nasty poo out of them.


14. Successful peeing on the potty by toddler: cheer him on!


15. More reminders about using the potty.


16. Wonder if you will ever be able to complete another sentence without the words "pee," "poop," or "potty" in it.

17.  Put child in pull-up for bedtime and tell him that he did a good job and that tomorrow, he's going to use the potty just like a big boy!

18. Open up that bottle(s) of wine.

19. Repeat the following day.

20. Good news: this usually doesn't last more than 3 days. Perhaps stock up on 3 bottles of wine from the start.


As much as potty training drove me insane, it took about a day and a half of this with my oldest and then he never had another accident. With my middle, it took a little less than 3 days.


Here's to a quick potty training experience with my youngest!


Note: Everyone approaches potty training differently. For me, I thought that my kids should be able to handle getting undressed/dressed by themselves for the most part and be capable of getting themselves on the potty alone before trying to potty train. Because that way, after I worked with them for a few days, I could mostly remove myself from the process instead of having them get used to me helping them with everything. This is why I waited until they were around 3 to try to potty train.

Other moms start earlier/later and use different methods of potty training. If you have written a post about potty training, please link it up here for all of us who are in potty training mode and need help!

Labels: potty training

I adore this week's Blog Friend Feature.  She's proving that you can still live a completely fabulous life even after motherhood.  And yet, as glamorous as her life seems, she's still a totally down-to-earth friend.

Meet Jill from Glamamom.


Hello Ladies! (and possibly Gentlemen?) I’m thrilled to be Shell’s BFF today. Things I Can’t Say is one of the first blogs I started reading when I immersed myself in the blogging community last June after becoming a mama and deciding to chronicle my own journey at Glamamom.

A million thanks, Shell, for introducing me to your readers and all the support. It’s been an honor getting to know you through your thoughtful words and I look forward to the day when we can laugh together in person (and discuss X)!

For those unfamiliar with Glamamom, my huz, son, pup, and I reside in New York City. The Big Apple, the Concrete Jungle, the City That Never Sleeps, the Empire City, Gotham, the Financial Capital of the World, the City So Nice, They Named It Twice.

I won’t lie, some days it’s so mind-blowingly exciting, I have to pinch myself. Celeb neighbors? Check! An 850-acre back yard? Check! Broadway? Check! Fashion Week? Check! Nightlife? Shopping? Chinese food at 4 a.m.? Check! Check! Check!

And that’s what my blog is about, the fun stuff, the inspiration, an attempt to stop time and take it all in.

But don’t let it fool you. Life in Manhattan is challenging on a good day and can be far from glamorous:

Ever hear of sidewalk rage? It’s the pedestrian’s equivalent of road rage. Since NY’ers walk everywhere, when someone in the crowd isn’t going with the flow or proceeding fast enough, heart attack-inducing rage courses through your veins. I’m certainly guilt of having murderous thoughts, so just imagine what it’s like trying to navigate the bustling streets with a stroller, gear, and cranky toddler daily! Pray for me.

Our living quarters leave much to be desired too. How about 1,500 square feet (rather large by NYC standards) in which to make a home for children, a dog, and all your shoes?! That leaves no space to hide.

Oh, and that doggie? Well, he needs to be walked 4 times a day, on a leash, and we have to pick up his poop. As if I don’t have enough poop to deal with throughout the day.

Then there’s the cost of well, everything. Paying 3 times as much for groceries makes you reevaluate if you really need those Entenmann’s cookies. And don’t even get me started on the cost of preschool and the insane application process!

But my worst fear, and what I anticipate will be the most challenging aspect of raising children in a city so full of excess, is that a childhood in Manhattan will rob them of their motivation and drive to succeed. That they’ll feel entitled and have unrealistic expectations. I shudder to imagine my children like one of the kids of Gossip Girl, growing up too fast, and being exposed to too much too soon.

So, yeah. It’s not all that glamorous when you get down to it. Can parenthood ever be? I know these nuances aren’t limited to big city life. We’re all dealing with limitations and challenges.

But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go ahead and keep on focusing on the fabulous.

Labels: blog friend feature, guest post

 <a href="http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="" src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac246/shellthings/pouryourheartout.jpg" /></a>
My boys are getting older. In September, I will have a first grader, a kindergartener, and a preschooler. There will be times during the week when ALL of them are in school at the same time.


Yippeeeeeeeee! I can take a shower without worrying about someone getting superglue on the couch or cutting each other's hair. I can go to the grocery store without a child asking for treats. I can go to the gym without worry that I'll be called out of class due to a babysitting room mishap.


I can read blogs without mommy guilt.


Or, you know: do laundry, clean the house, etc.


Because we're moving away from the baby days.  Onward to school days.


There are still two and a half years until all of my boys are in school full-time, but I can see it coming.  A totally different way of life.


In some ways, it's exciting. Our boys getting older, more independent, doing new things.


We made the decision to be done having children.  Snip, snip.


But, every once in a while, I see a little baby....and I get an ache. And yes, it happens when I see a baby boy OR a baby girl. 

I miss those days of a tiny little baby curled asleep in my arms, sighing those adorable baby sighs. A baby small enough to cuddle, to carry, to fit their little heads right underneath my chin as they are held in my lap.


Instead, I have a 6 year old whose feet are almost as big as mine. A 4 year old who insists that he can do everything on his own. A 2 year old who insists he's already 3.


They are growing up.  It's a proud mama moment.... but it's also a sad mama moment.


I sometimes gaze a little too long at the sweet little babies I see.  With too much longing in my eyes.


Because it's hard to move on to a different stage of life, even when you think you are ready to move on.... knowing you can't go back.

Labels: pour your heart out

I know, I know, I had to get all musical on you. I'm trying something a little different today and linking up with The Red Dress Club prompt about memory and reflection. This is what came to mind:


I walked into the warm room, full of people I didn't know. They were all talking quietly, but the collective buzz hurt my ears as I tried to pick out a voice that I recognized.


I kept my eyes down, playing with my nails, trying not to bite them. My grandpa always told me that it was a disgusting habit and the thought of biting them here seemed wrong.


My aunt put her hand on my back and gently guided me to the front the of the room.  I forced myself to smile. I knew my parents weren't sure if I should be here at all.


I'd heard my father saying that it wasn't an appropriate place for a seven year old. My mother argued that it would be seen as rude if I weren't there, though she worried I would cry.  It was decided I would go, for just a little while, and then return to my aunt's house.


I smoothed down the skirt of my yellow sundress, my favorite dress.  How bright I must have looked in a room of black and dark-blue clad adults.


My aunt gave me a little nod and I took those last few steps forward.  My grandfather looked like he was sleeping.  He was dressed much the same as he usually was for our weekly Saturday shopping trips to the grocery store, where he always bought me a special toy, though he insisted each week he wasn't going to because I was getting spoiled.


Just like he was sleeping, just like my parents had told me. But, Grandpa wasn't sleeping.  He was my only grandparent who really loved me. My mom's mom had died well before I was born and her father was possibly the strictest adult I'd ever met. My other grandmother was very ill and all she could do was give me an occasional hug.


This, in front of me, was the man who took me to the park, teased me, and stuck up for me.


But, he was gone. Lung cancer. Don't ever smoke, he told me. Girls don't smoke.


I stood there, not really sure what I was supposed to do.  I knew I was supposed to say goodbye, but he wasn't really there any more anyway.


He was gone. I didn't want him to be gone.


Tears started to form and threatened to fall. I did not want to cry, sure that someone would be mad at me for crying, like it was the wrong thing to do.


And so I smiled. The biggest smile that I could. A smile that stretched my face and made my cheeks hurt, but stopped the tears from falling.


My aunt must have been right behind me the whole time, but I didn't notice until she touched my shoulder and told me it was time to go.


I walked out, still smiling as hard as I could, wishing I didn't have to say goodbye.

Labels: childhood, death, red dress club

Due to the desire of the boys in my house to run around naked all the time(or at least, in nothing but underwear/diapers), the following rules are in place:


Pants must be worn at the dinner table. You want to eat, you must have on more than underwear. Or socks.


Pants are required if you wish to answer the door. Even if you are almost sure it's your grandma, you must put on pants. The UPS man is more than a little freaked out by naked boys running to the door yelling "Package here!"


Leaving the house requires pants. This includes getting the mail and going to pick up one of your brothers from school. No, I will not take "naked man" with me to school, so please stop asking.


If company is coming over, you must put on pants.


When the temperature is below 50 degrees outside, you must wear both pants and a shirt, even though we are inside the house.


The proper place to get dressed for the day is NOT in the entranceway of our home, where the neighbors can see through our double glass doors.


Underwear, a shirt, pants/shorts, and shoes are all required for school. Socks are negotiable: the rest of the items on this list are not. The same goes for outings to the store, church, the playground, and all restaurants, even those that give away toys with your meal.


Tell me that kids eventually grow out of this stage! Do your kids actually like to wear clothes?

When I was at Blissdom, I won an Interactive Storybuddy from Hallmark.  My boys LOVE this thing!


The one I won is Cooper the Bear. As you read the storybook to your children and Cooper, when you say certain phrases, Cooper responds.


My boys' faces lit up when they heard Cooper talking.  They've also figured out what some of the phrases are that Cooper will respond to and will say them to him, even when we aren't reading the story.


You can see a little bit of how he works in this short video clip.  Yes, I'm in my pajamas...it was bedtime!


There are two more Cooper books right now besides the one that we have and Cooper says more phrases with each book: my boys want the other books! Also, there are iPhone/iPad apps for the Storybuddies...I really need to get one of those one of these days!


There is also a Watson the Raccoon Storybuddy with his own set of books. More Storybooks and Storybuddies will be released throughout the year.


These interactive storybooks are a great way to keep your children engaged in storytime.


WIN IT! One of you will win a Cooper Storybuddy with an Interactive Storybook from Hallmark.


To enter:  If your email is not visible in your profile, you must leave it with your comment(s).  Winner will be notified via email and have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen.  US only, please. Giveaway will end at 9pm ET on 2/26.


First Entry: Tell me who you want to win this Storybuddy for!

Additional Entries: Please leave a separate comment for each entry.
*Like Hallmark on facebook and leave your username
*Follow HallmarkPR on twitter and leave your twitter name
*Follow Things I Can't Say GFC
*Follow shellthings on twitter
*Like Things I Can't Say on facebook(you can do this in the sidebar)
*Tweet this giveaway and leave the direct link to your tweet: Enter Interactive Storybuddy #giveaway from @HallmarkPR and @shellthings http://bit.ly/iiWrjQ


I won a Storybuddy from Hallmark: all opinions are my own...or in this case: my children's opinions are their own.


This giveaway is now closed and the winner is 3Gigglymonsters

Labels: giveaway, reviews

I'm so excited to introduce you to this week's Blog Friend Feature. She and I have so much in common and she feels like a true friend. Even if I can't tell you her name because she blogs anonymously. 

Since she introduces herself, I'll just jump right to her post. Meet Sorta Southern Single Mom from Single Mom in the South.



I could hardly contain my excitement when I got an email from Shell telling me I was "on the list" for BFF! Seriously y'all, it's a good thing I was alone or I would have embarrassed myself, such was my excitement. Then, like many of my predecessors have claimed, reality set in and I realized I had to actually write a post. *Gulp*


I've been following Shell almost from the inception of my own blog. I can't exactly recall how I found her, I think it might have been her SITS day, but she is a legend, so it could easily have been elsewhere!


Turns out we actually have quite a bit in common...okay, she's married, I'm divorced, so not that, but other stuff - feel free to correct me Shell...Shell's note: she's right, we have a lot in common, though I guess she wanted to leave out our shared love of trashy romance novels. Oops.

• We both hail from Above the Mason Dixon Line.
• We both relocated Below the Mason Dixon Line, although she beat me to it, cause I think she first came down after college and I only came down a few years ago to start fresh after my divorce.
• We're both blond- naturally so, of course ;) *winks*
• We're both moms, although I have one boy and one girl and mine are a bit older.
• We are both teachers, although she's currently home with her boys and I just started back for the first time since having kids this year. Holy Long Maternity Leave Batman! *grins*

I keep threatening to come visit her. She says she lives by the beach and claims she's in an area with a really high male/female ratio. Really, I may just show up on her doorstep this summer... you just never know *winks*


As part of my relocation to the south, I'm constantly trying to become more Southern. I love to "y'all" up a storm and often blog about the differences between northerners and southerners.


Speaking of all things southern, guess what I got, ironically, the last time I went 'home' to The Great White North????

My very own Cast Iron Skillet. I felt like a complete fraud, living Below the Mason Dixon Line and not having one. I'd mentioned to my parents that I wanted one, and apparently, although I've no recollection of either of them ever using one, they had THREE, so they kindly gave me one. It actually belonged to my grandfather and was tucked away in the camping equipment in the garage, so that makes it extra special, although technically NOT southern.


So y'all help me out. I haven't used it yet. Tell me what I should make in it... I know cornbread, but what else????


Oh, and guess what other southern thing I wowed them with the last time I was up north? Chocolate Chess Pie! My sister's fiancee, who's southern through and through, taught me to make it. It's so easy and if you serve it warm, it's like a great gooey pile o' hot fudge in a pie crust. Be Still My Heart!


Chocolate Chess Pie
1 unbaked pie crust
1 stick butter
2 squares semi-sweet baker's chocolate
1 cup sugar
2 eggs (beaten)
1 tsp. vanilla
Pinch of salt

In a small sauce pan, melt butter and chocolate and set aside. In a separate bowl, whisk together other ingredients. Add chocolate mixture to the bowl and stir to incorporate. Pour into a regular unbaked pie shell and bake 35 minutes at 350° degrees F. Top with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.


Seriously y'all will just swoon over this. I swannee! Run on over to the Harris Teeter or Piggly Wiggly -Really, where do they come up with this stuff???- right quick and get yourself the fixins' to make some!


Hurry on now, what are y'all waitin' for????


 Don't you feel like you are chatting with a friend? Please show Sorta Southern Single Mom some comment love here and then go follow Single Mom in the South!

Labels: blog friend feature, guest post

 <a href="http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="" src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac246/shellthings/pouryourheartout.jpg" /></a>

I was walking around outside yesterday afternoon barefoot.


Yes, in February.  It was a beautiful day here in Eastern Carolina. 


I've never been a fan of the cold weather.  Ever.  I always wanted to move somewhere warm.  And now, I'm here. I've spent approximately 8 of the 12 years since college graduation here...though not in a row.


And yet, more often than not, I feel like I don't belong here. 


We live in a town where everyone is either military or local.  We're not military. Hubs is a local, but I am not.  I can't relate to the military wives when they are talking about their husbands deploying for 6 months or a year: I don't even like when Hubs has to go out of town for a day or two.  And I can't follow the conversations about the people that Hubs and his friends all know from back in high school.


But, this is where Hubs needs to be.  His family is here, his friends are here, and his job is here.  This is his home and I am his wife: therefore, this is where I am.  He fits, it's his home. And me? I'm not even Shell, I'm just J's wife.



I don't know where I'd chose to be if the choice were entirely up to me, anyway. I miss my family and my friends from back home, but I hate the weather and the family drama gets old quick.  Though, having friends that I could go out with is something that I do miss.  Having people who can see me for me, I miss.


My husband and my kids: they will always come first to me.  But, there are times when I long for something more.



I've written a little bit about this before, if you want to check out A Glass of Identity.  Though, Ash at Shades of Blue and Gray wrote a story last week where a line from it about the character just being the wife of another character really hit me and made me think about these things again. She's a fabulous writer and you should go read her.

Labels: pour your heart out

1.  YOU get up with a screaming child in the middle of the night. Without having to be kicked or shaken awake.


2.  Call her at lunchtime to tell her not to worry about dinner because you are going to bring something home.


3.  Tell her she looks hot in her yoga pants.  Without saying they would look hotter on the floor beside your bed.


4.  Tell her she's a fabulous mom.


5.  Change a stinky diaper. Without asking for a medal for it.  Bonus points if you potty-train said child.


6.  Let her sleep in without having to be deathly ill.


7.  Tell her to go take a hot bath or shower while you get the kids ready for bed.  Without implying that you can't remember the last time she bathed.


8.  Compliment her in front of other people. Just not as your facebook status. Because that is obnoxious.


9.  Say "I love you." A lot. Duh.


10. Bring her chocolate-covered strawberries.  Without telling her that she'll need to go to the gym to work them off.  Note: chocolate-covered strawberries are my own personal addiction.  Do not get her these if she's allergic to strawberries. Again: duh.


Okay, ladies, chime in: how can your husband show you that he loves you? Not just on Valentine's Day, but everyday.

Doing something I rarely do- adding a p.s here b/c some of you are thinking that I'm calling my Hubs a jerk on Valentine's Day. I'm not. He rocks. And does most of these things- except the diaper thing- but I don't like to change them, either.  My point? It's the little things that really show the love.

Labels: Valentine's Day

I find it really hard for me to leave the comfort of my yoga clothes behind.  It's so nice to be comfortable, isn't it?