Day 665 - Poll Results & New Poll

Last week, I asked whether or not we should potty train the not-yet-ready-for-potty-time Andrew. Sixty-eight percent of you thought we should just go with the flow (so to speak) and see what happens to Andrew as we potty train Emma. And then twenty-five percent believed that we should not potty train Andrew until he is ready. I forgot to mention that another option I suggested to Lisa was a colostomy bag. If you have been an avid reader of this blog, I think you know what Lisa told me not to be (Hint: It can be misspelled as 'dumas.').

Lisa and I agree that we're not going to force Andrew to be potty trained if he doesn't show a strong interest in it. He does enjoy sitting down on the potty chair, but he also enjoys standing in it and using it as a helmet. Studies show that boys tend to take longer to potty train than girls, but I think as Emma continues potty training, Andrew may show more interest and want to be a part of the process more. I guess a good way to look at it is that once Emma is out of diapers, we'll only have two people left in the house in diapers (Hint: The second person ain't me!).

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We are using our double stroller less and less. If we know we are going somewhere that involves a lot of walking, we'll put the kids in the stroller or a mini Segway. Otherwise, we let the kids roam around and explore their surroundings.

Unfortunately, the freedom we give the kids catalyzes a good amount of frustration and stress into our well-being. For instance, we were at an obon festival (If you don't know what it is, go Google it. You're on a computer anyways, lazyass.), and I was in charge of watching Andrew. Sometimes Andrew is like that toy car that is over-wound and when you release it, all hell breaks loose.

I was in the chicken teriyaki line and had a really difficult time keeping Andrew next to me. I was holding onto his hand, but he was circling me, running left and right, and resisting my efforts to keep him close to me. At that moment, I became the frustrated parent pleading with my kid to heed my commands lest the wrath that shall be unleashed will know no end. Before I could say another word, an old Japanese women hunched over from one too many years in the rice patty fields approached me. She pointed her chopstick-like fingers at me and said, "Let your child act his age. They grow up too fast."

So what do you think of that? Do you think she was right? Wrong? Or was she just drunk on sake and looking for a good time? Because if you think the latter, I did get her phone number, but I'm a little nervous to call her.