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Up until about Tuesday of last week, both Paul and I had completely forgotten about Fall Break. There was almost no anticipation, no waiting for the break. It was more like, “Hey, Merry Christmas! You get a four-day weekend that you absolutely weren’t expecting! Enjoy!”

Fall Break came at just the right time. I think we were all getting a little bogged-down, and we were in serious need of some family/friends time. I got to go out on Friday night with my friends for an evening of Karaoke, and that was something I hadn’t done in months. My feet were sore and my calves were the size of Christmas hams by the time the night was over, but it was worth it. I had a great time.

The rest of the break was filled with a zoo trip, a mind-blowingly pleasant visit to the pediatrician, ice cream, and a quiet trek to the pumpkin patch.

Guys, I’ve just got to tell you about this pumpkin patch. Somebody tipped me off about it in a Facebook mom’s group, and it was pretty much perfect for me. Notice I said “me.” I’m sure that Charlie would have had a blast at Vala’s, especially now that he’s old enough to appreciate it, but that is just not my kind of scene. I’m sure there are people who find enjoyment in going to Vala’s, and maybe our mid-October, Sunday afternoon trip last year was part of the reason I got all stressed out, but it’s just too overwhelming for me. We were surrounded by what felt like 5 million people, everything cost money (in addition to an admission fee), and Charlie was just a bit too little. He wanted to run everywhere and really had no interest in focusing on any of the attractions. Don’t get me wrong; I loved hanging out with our family and I appreciated the outing, but that stuff can get stressful for me. Maybe if we went in the middle of the week when most kids are in school, I would be able to relax and really enjoy it. Anybody know if it’s calmer during the week?

Anyway, this little pumpkin patch has no name, and can be found south of the intersection of 120th and Military in Omaha. The little itty-bitty pumpkins were free, and none of the other pumpkins cost more than $1.50. There was no admission fee, a nice piece of playground equipment, and there were never more than 9 people there the entire time. We got a few cute pictures of Charlie, and a wheelbarrow full of cheap pumpkins. I can’t remember the exact date that the owner opens up the pumpkin patch, but it’s sometime in mid-September. She sells pumpkins till Halloween or when she runs out, and I’m really excited for us to go a little earlier next year, so the pumpkins aren’t so picked-over.

This really was an awesome break, and although I’m sad to see it go, I feel like it did what it promised: Gave us a break. We didn’t travel anywhere, and spent almost all of it together. I now feel like I can make it to Thanksgiving break while keeping my sanity, and I’m super-happy that we got so much family time.

Now, can my Christmas-Ham-calves keep me upright until Thanksgiving? I’ll have to get back to you on that.

So . . . guess what hasn’t been so bad?

Potty training.

Seriously. It’s almost been a non-event. I think we mostly have the “Naked Summer” to thank for that. My parents’ house is two miles out of town in western Nebraska, and they don’t have too many neighbors . . . and the neighbors they do have aren’t phased by a toddler running around naked for two months straight.

I should probably stop here and warn my readers that I’m about to talk about my toddler’s urination habits. If this is not your kind of reading material, you should probably go watch this instead, because it totally blew my mind and has nothing to do with pee. Have a good day.

I have a friend who had great success with the no pants/total nudity potty training approach, and I think this was just the freer, more natural, frolic-through-the-meadows-version of that.
At Mom and Dad’s, Charlie was naked pretty much the entire time. He would just refuse to keep his clothes on. After all, the dogs don’t have to wear clothes, right? At some point, though, he started running to the bathroom and sitting on the toilet when he had to take care of business.

I couldn’t believe it. Sometimes, I’d look up from my book and realize that he wasn’t playing with his toys anymore. He’d just vanish and I’d look all over, only to find he had climbed on the toilet and was doing his thing.

Now, if he was outside playing with the dogs . . . that was an entirely different situation. Let’s just say that Nature dictated Charlie’s peeing habits when he was under the open sky.

When we moved into the new house, things regressed a little bit, and every once in a while I’d realize that the soothing “running water” sound I was hearing was, in fact, not a cute little zen-pool, but Charlie peeing behind the couch or under the kitchen table. That was not so awesome.

Eventually, though, Charlie’s urge to strip all of his clothing lessened slightly (thank you, Fall) and the discomfort of peeing into his underwear and pants helped him understand the term “accident” a little better. Accidents still happen every once in a while around here, but it’s usually when we’re having too much fun or we just didn’t quite make it to the toilet.

One of the best decisions we’ve made when it comes to potty training is switching to cloth pull-ups. We still use our cloth diapers at night and regular underwear when we’re at home during the day. When we go out, however, we’ve started using cloth pull-ups, or “trainers.” These have just worked so well. We hit the jackpot when we heard about a local sale called“Fluff Again.” It’s basically a giant used cloth diaper consignment sale, with a few local vendors and businesses selling their wares.

Now, while some of you might be horrified at the thought of using used cloth diapers, let me just say that A) being poor, and B) using cloth diapers in the first place tends to make certain “icky” things a lot less icky. Rather than spending $15.95 on one pair of trainers, we spent $3.50. Then we washed them . . . and then we put them on Charlie . . . and it’s totally fine. He has not contracted any cooties that I can detect.

We bought about 5 pairs that were a mix of Blueberry Trainers, Fuzzibunz’ Trickle Free Trainers, and some random ones that didn’t have a brand on them. I like the Blueberries the best, but if I’m being honest it’s simply because they’re cuter. We’re happy with all of them and haven’t seemed to need more than 5 (insert happy dance inspired by the fact that we have our own washer and dryer now).

Whoah. This post turned out to be a little long-winded. Summary: I think our experience has gone so well because we let Charlie decide when he was ready. I realize not everyone has the opportunity to be at home with their kids all day, so that’s easier said than done. I’m also fully aware that when I have the new baby there’s a good chance of Charlie peeing in corners again, so I’m trying not to sound too smug. Also, cloth trainers are awesome, especially when you pay less than 4 bucks a pop.

Finally, tiny little boy briefs are freaking adorable. That is all.

Hey, Charlie.

This is the first blog-letter I’ve written to you, and I’m sorry that I haven’t done it before. Lots of other mom-bloggers write letters to their kids, but I haven’t felt the urge to do it until now. Maybe it’s because you’ve finally gotten to the point where I feel like I can have a small conversation with you, and maybe it’s because I’m starting to get glimpses into your little personality . . . glimpses of the kind of person you’re going to grow to be.

Now that you’re expressing your opinions on things, and telling me what you want or how you feel, I’ve come to the realization that you and I only have a few short months of “just-you-and-me-time.” It’s like I’ve gained this new little friend right at the end of the school year, and we’ve only got the summer until it’s time to add new duties and responsibilities to our lives.

Don’t get me wrong; your new brother or sister is going to be a wonderful change . . . but it will definitely make our world a different place. I want to make sure I give the best of myself to you these next few months, or at least make sure you know how heart-squeezingly important you are to me.

You’re just a little guy, but I can see already that your personality is going to be enormous. When you’re in the mood, you can be the biggest ham. You make your goldfish crackers dance to the music we’re listening to, make me imitate your funny faces, and can do a spot-on imitation of your Grandma and Grandpa Blessing’s dogs. All of these things are made more magical by the other side of your coin; that quiet, hard-thinking, problem-solving boy . . . the boy who will search fiercely for that one, missing piece of puzzle, or will fiddle with a new toy until he knows how to work it perfectly.

My favorite part, though, is how sensitive, honest, and kind you are. When that boy at the park hurt himself, you shuffled up to him and petted his arm with a concerned little “Okay?” You two weren’t even playing with each other; you simply wanted to make sure he was alright. You love helping. One of the things that most brings a grin to your face is being able to help me or your dad. “Help you, Daddy?” “Need help, Mommy?” I’ll admit that your helping doesn’t really speed any projects along, but it sure makes them more worthwhile.

I love watching you play with your daddy. It’s like he’s got a little cartoon version of himself to help him build towers and draw pictures. You can both be so serious, and at the same time so goofy. I’m just thrilled to see you turning out like your dad . . . he is one of my favorite people ever, you know.

I love seeing all of these things in you, because I know that you’re going to grow to be a really cool guy. When I watch your Grandma Bonk talk to your dad, I think, “Wow, he used to be a little toddler, too.” That means that she loved him just as much as I love you, and someday, you and I are going to be hanging out together as adults, talking about things other than circles and race cars. I don’t know about you, but that kind of blows my mind a little bit.

Even though I’m excited to watch you grow up and develop preferences and passions, I’m pretty happy to just spend my days with you . . . talking about colors and shapes. Nobody says “PINK!” quite like you do.

So, yeah, things are going to get pretty different around here in a couple of months, but I’m not nearly as worried about it now as I was. I’ve been watching you grow and mature so quickly, and I know that you’re going to be an awesome big brother. You handled all of our chaos this summer like a trouper, and I think you’ll do just the same when we add this new baby to our little team.

Your dad and I love you, Mr. Charlie Warlie, and don’t you forget it.