Call 911!

I picked up Gavin from daycare, a little later than usual, and was in a rush to get home because I was already so far behind.  Usually, I would take the time to ask Gavin if he'd gone to the bathroom and touch base with him in the potty department, but today...I guess I was a little distracted.

About halfway home, I hear Gavin say, "I have to go pee-pee Mama." I look around and notice that of all the places, we are at least 8 minutes from the nearest anywhere.  The one part of the daycare route that has nothing...of course.  "Can you hold it Gavin? Is it an emergency?" I ask.  "I have to go pee-pee Mama."  I start looking around for my options.  Luckily, he is capable of standing and peeing anywhere into just about anything.  Although I'm not trying to get in the habit of peeing out a window, off a cliff, into a bucket, on a pile of trash or off the side of the road, (all of which we have already done in the past in extreme situations) it looked like the pee-pee pulled out the trump card and was about to throw it out on the table.

"Alright Gavin.  Can you keep the pee-pee in your body until I can stop somewhere?" I hear a confirmation and I drive about 2 minutes up the road to a pull off spot.  Don't be deceived. Just because it has no restaurants, stores or anywhere else to pee, doesn't mean that it's not a busy road.  So, I pull out Gavin, do the usual business...all while car after car drive by with rubbernecking drivers wondering what's going on.  A tad embarrasing.  Particularly when he doesn't have it all mastered and he looks like he has wet his pants despite all of my efforts to keep him dry. 

As I put Gavin into the car, I look at Gavin and thank him for telling me that he had to go the bathroom.  He then looks at me, almost in tears, and says, "Do we have to call 911?" At this point, I'm pretty confused. No, just let me know when you have to go again.  I get in the car and begin to drive off and I hear sniffles and again, "Do we have to call 911 Mama?"  It takes me a second...
"No, honey it's not that kind of emergency." I had asked Gavin if it was an emergency to see if he could hold his pee.  He interpreted that as our deep conversation months ago when I talked to him about how to call 911 if there is an emergency at the house. My sweet boy reminds me that I need to think about how a 3 year old boy interprets what I say.  At least I can tell he's paying attention.

Kickin' It

So, the kiddos have been enrolled into soccer and it has been so much fun.  Fortunately, parents are asked to be part of the classes when the kids are so little and it is needed.  Gavin loves running around, kicking the balls and scoring with everyone whooping and hollering to send him praise.  Sophia, on the other hand, enjoys trekking herself over to the other teams, running away from the ball, and throwing temper tantrums over balloons (one of the many things the coach uses to keep their attention). 

It seems, after an hour of this rotation of events (run after ball, chase after So, deal with tantrum), that we are actually the ones receiving the training as we run after our children encouraging them to do as the coach instructs.  At the end of our time, everyone gathers together to stretch out, say "go team" and receive stamps on the hands for a job well done.  As I think about each soccer session, it becomes clear that Gavin and Sophia are part of something bigger.  Not only an opportunity to not only have fun, but to learn discipline, endurance and teamwork.  I hope that I can play role in that discovery even if there isn't always a stamp to prove it.


Sophia looking sly



Gavin with a hula hoop



Just stamped!