Potty Training

I'm not sure which is worse: potty-training or changing nasty diapers off a three year old. All I really want is for this boy to be done with diapers. But I'm being patient. I'm allowing him to move at his own pace. Don't get me wrong, we talk about using the potty ALL the time. Like every diaper change. And at bed time. And sporadically throughout the day. We have encouraged, cheered and yes, even bribed. All to no avail. Until yesterday. When he decided all by himself to use his frog potty to go number two. Excitement! Congratulations! Encouragement! And he apparently remembered the bribes because the second thing he said to me was," Now I can get a Nerf gun!". And then he was done with it all. Diaper was back on for the duration of the day. Try again today. He successfully used his frog potty four times! Woohoo! And then there was a big poo blowout in his Thomas the Tank Engine skivvies. As I patiently showered him off, even though I totally wanted to gag, I'm talking to him about using the potty. In the middle of my incoherent babble, he cuts me off and says." Mom, you're the best Mom I've ever seen." End of babble. Sweet boy gets me every time. Look out world when he becomes a teenager...

Stage Fright

Rename?

I'm beginning to think that I should rename this blog. We aren't living in a barn anymore for starters. I'm thinking somewhere along the lines of, "Four Children Being Raised By Two Loving, But Quite Confused Parents Who Apparently Like To Move A Lot." The condensed version could just be, "U-Haul Raisin'". What d'ya think? I mean, Matt and I have moved nine times in twelve years. That includes a five year stay in our home in Fort Collins. It occurred to me the other day when we had a mini-vacation and we walked into our (awesome!, but more on that in another post) hotel room and Thane asked me," We live here now?!". Poor kid. He's lived in more homes than he is years old. That's a confusing sentence. He's three, he's lived in four homes. Matt was born and raised in the same home which his folks only sold a few years ago. I moved every few years growing up (eleven times by the time I was nineteen and getting married) and I guess it stuck. I don't know if it's wanderlust, boredom or what. I just know that this location is no longer working for us. Stay tuned for the ongoing saga of "Where in the World are the Cobles?"

Deep Seated Body Issues

I'm watching "What Not To Wear" on t.v. right now. Maycee for some unbelievable, unreal reason loves this show. This translates to way too many episodes recorded on my dvr. Which means that when I am exhausted, drank a glass of wine and there is nothing else to watch but Olympics, I end up watching this. The epiphany occurs that I have "deep seated body issues". Which in the light of day just means that I have been pregnant five times and have the body of a mom. But at night, in that terrible hour between sanity and sleep that makes me feel like a horrific bane on society, it means that I need an entire new wardrobe, none of which has come from the thrift store, my sister or Old Navy. Anyone up for nominating me to be on this show? Anyone, anyone?

Why?

Thane is in that wonderful stage that parents know as the why stage. I use the term wonderful very loosely. He asks why in the most unusual ways. And sometimes he frames his questions in ways that aren't even "why?" kind of questions. Why are there trains? Okay, makes sense. Why are there dogs for? Makes less sense. Here is a conversation we had today:
Thane: I want a cookie!
Me: No.
Thane: Why?!
Me: Because we are in the car and you have already had enough cookies.
Thane: Oh, Mom! Why?! 
Logical, right? Think again. And repeat.
Thane: I want a cookie!
Me: No.
Thane: Why?!
Me: Because the moon isn't up.
Thane: Oh. Okay.
Wait. What?! How is my second explanation more logical than the first?!?!