Wednesday, December 10, 2008
In sad times one tear usually turns into a river. When I was 20 my father passed away from Gastro-intestinal cancer. I really didn’t know him and I think that is why I cried so many tears. I felt sorry for myself and the loss of never being able to have a relationship with my father. I really should have been shedding tears for those he left behind that really knew him.
Oh the joy of happy times. I love to cry for happy things. Sometimes my daughter will see me crying after she has done something amazingly cute. She often rubs my face and says “Don’t cry Mommy, it will be ok”. She doesn’t understand the tears are for joy and not for sorrow. The other day she was playing and I was sitting on the sofa watching her. She did a somersault on the floor and jumped up, with the biggest smile on her face; she put her hands together, and said “I did it! Just like a big girl, are you proud Mommy?” Of course I was proud of her, all I could do was smile and cry, sharing her little milestones in life is such a joy to me.
Sometimes in life we have to put on a little show, shed a tear just to get our way. One particular moment I remember that happening was when I need a day off from work. I had just come to a point where the stress of my job was getting to me and needed a mental health day. I went to my supervisor who seemed very unwilling to okay my request. I saw that I wasn’t getting anywhere with her so I turned on the water works. I cried and cried about how I had so much going on at home with my husband and my marriage, which I didn’t, my marriage was fine. She listened to me blubber for about 20 minutes and approved my day off.
As far as tools go, tears are among my favorite. They are so useful to me and always accessible. I never have to worry about forgetting them at home, a friend borrowing them, or them breaking. They are more dependable than my best friend, my dog, or snow in January. The best benefit of all, unlike a power tool tears are free and never have a dead battery.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Eng 101, online to boot. I think it takes a certain kind of student to take an online class, especially English. I am not that student. I have a hard time being disciplined enough to get on every few days and take the time to write what need to be written.
As for you, John A. (don't ever ask) Goldfine, I think you were wonderful. Having never met you, taking into consideration there is no tone in email or blogs, and curious as to where you come up with the crazy topics you do, i have to say i am really glad I got stuck with you this semester:)
One thing I would change (and wish I could have reaped the bennys) is grades. I wish you had given us a grade on each assignment. I need that tangible letter in my grubby little hand.
Thank you, good semester.
Monday, December 1, 2008
I was 18 or 19 the first time my lips curved around the cool, wet metal can. Though I don't remember the taste, I do remember the feeling of finally doing what all my friends had been doing since high school, a right of passage, of sorts. I was in the dorm room of a friend, she and I had known each other since high school. We had this guy I had met on the Internet (who had flown from Louisiana, and was 21),Jeff, buy us a 12-pack of Coors Light and a bottle of Strawberry Fields Boone's Farm. I drank one beer and the whole bottle of Boone's. After we drank and I was leaving (escorted by Jeff), stumbling out the door, I heard voices in the hall whispering something about the cops on campus. As we made our way to the dorm building I lived in, Jeff told me to keep my head down and not to talk to anyone. I somehow gracefully, or not, made it to the level I lived on without so much as a falter, until I saw him, the big, burly police officer standing at the main door to my level. Jeff tried to hurry me by the officer, but I looked at him and said " Hey Ossifer", just then Jeff pulled me into my room and shut the door. Luckily the officer didn't come after us.
In December 2000, my father passed away from Gastrointestinal Cancer. I didn't really know him that well, but made the effort and went to his funeral services. My friend, Elizabeth went with me. We stayed for a while and I paid my respects. After the funeral I was feeling pretty lousy, so we went to the liquor store to find a bottle of comfort. This particular bottle was named Jose Cuervo and went very well with a 2-liter of Pepsi. Elizabeth drank a shot or two and I managed to polish off the rest of the 5th by myself. After drinking it, the only thing I remember until the next morning is sitting on my bed talking to Elizabeth. When i woke up, I opened my eyes and scrunched up my nose as the smell of tequila vomit waifed through the air. Disgusted and trying to remember if I had puked or not, I sat up and started to get out of bed. It was then I realized I was naked! Wondering what the hell had happened, I woke Elizabeth up. She informed me that I fell out of bed, cracked my head on the cement floor, and started puking all over myself. Not remembering and not believing her, I felt the back of my head, sure enough a knot the size of a grapefruit. Luckily I lived through it.
A couple years ago, my friend, Hillari had a party at her house. A bunch of us gathered, sang, and drank the night away. Her husband and my husband stayed upstairs and yakked (not drinking) while the rest of us became inebriated in the basement. We played beer pong, beer di, and lots of karaoke. After we said out good-byes my husband and I drove away. Hungry, we decided to stop at McDonald's and go through the drive-thru. As we were approaching, my husband put his window down to place the order. I started talking very loudly and made the obscene comment " If you're a good boy, later you can put your cock in my pussy (language I NEVER use)". Mortified, my husband stopped the car and made me promise to shut my mouth while he was ordering. I did, we got our food and drove home. When we were about a mile away from home the combination of bumpy roads, McDonald's grease, and many kinds of alcohol caught up to me and we had to pull over. I barfed my guts out while he laughed at me. Luckily I didn't get a hangover.
Private parties are a blast and they are usually shared with good company, but, I have only ever been to private parties. I would love to experience bar-hopping once before I am old. Just a bunch of girls or maybe couples and go out for an evening on the town. I'm just not sure if it is okay to mix Geritol and vodka!
On the one hand the ginger snap (if you have ever had the distinct honor of sinking you teeth into one) is dependable and sweet. When you take a bit you know that the crisp, sweet flavor will overtake you senses and bring back memories of days gone by. But you also see its plainness and may want to venture onto something a little more dangerous. This also can be said of me, dependable and sweet. I am always there if I say I will be and I am willing to do anything needed to make the people around me happy. However, I am a bit boring, I essentially keep the same schedule, clothes, and routine all the time, you won't catch me at the movies on a school night.
Ginger snaps have a rough exterior. They tend to have a lot of cracks and might nick to roof of your mouth. While I won't nick the roof of your mouth I do have a rough exterior, or so I am told. People tell me they are afraid to approach me because of the way I hold my face. They think I am pissed off or sad about something. This is usually not true, I am just usually deep in thought about what the next thing on my agenda is.
Ginger snaps are a little spicy. When you are chewing them the real ginger goodness comes out and might take you by surprise. I can be that way too. Just when you think you have me figured out I throw a curve ball and shock the hell out of you by showing up to your function in a low cut shirt or barking at you like a sailor if you piss me off. I like to have a good time and be spontaneous when the time is right.
Whether spicy, dependable or boring, Jaime Nelson and the Ginger Snap have a lot in common. Be daring, take a bit, you just might like what you get.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Last night I went to the Jason Aldean concert at the Bangor Auditorium. The concert was great and people were pumped from the loud music, stars, and smoke. in the parking lot as I was leaving, I saw an opening to leave out the back way. All I had to do was whip my car in reverse and cut through a line of traffic that extended about a quarter mile. Upon putting backing my car up, I heard the horn and loud screams coming from the car directly behind me. The driver yelled something about hitting her car, which I hadn't, so I yelled back " What do you think I am, a moron who can't drive. Why don't you put that car into drive Bitch and get out of my way". My friend, who was with me, put her head between her legs, laughing of course, and I peeled out of there, tires spinning to boot.
Oh the joy of being a big sister, with that comes the responsibility to being a good role model. I have made ignorant comments to her on more than one occasion, but the one memory that stands out was the day my parents bought new recliners. I had been sitting in one and gotten up to get a drink, and one for my sister as well. When i cam back that nasty little wench had taken my seat, and was still expecting me to give her the drink. I set my drink down, took hers back to the kitchen and came back, she still would not move. Si instead of sitting somewhere else, I wanted my seat back. She had the chair reclined and I took my left hand and smacked her foot as hard as I could. She laughed and I cried. She has the toenails from hell. I sliced my palm on her big-toe toenail and to this day (13 or so years later), I still have the battle wounds.
I love my new house, but I hate cleaning it. Especially the litter box. One day as I was cleaning it and sweeping around it, I saw that my husband had not cleaned around the trash can after he had emptied it. This is something i have asked over and over for him to do when he empties the trash can. I got mad, broom in hand and proceeded to bang the broom handle on the ceiling. Much to my dismay the broom handle didn't stop on contact with the ceiling, it kept on going right through the ceiling. All I could do was laugh at how I was going to explain that to my landlord.
I don't have a history of property damage (expect that one incident), violence (except that one incident), or being verbally abusive ( well, maybe like 5-10 incidents, but only to ignorant people). I in no way, shape, or form should be in prison for my actions, but maybe a stand-up routine would be a good idea. As long as I keep 'em laughin' whats the harm, we all get mad right?
Friday, November 7, 2008
School would have to be the number one reason I use the Internet these days. I have two online classes, a plethora of research, and staying connected with the EMCC homepage. I spend a lot of my time on blogging for my English class, which keeps me busy. I was really skeptical of blogging when I was first introduced, but have come to really like it. I also have a biology class online and use Web CT to meet class requirements. I think the program is easy to navigate, but my complaint would be that the final grade isn't accurate. For a perfectionist like me I freak out when I see that my final grade is a 60 (the Webb CT program accumulates all the grades, so it isn't accurate until the final grade is posted)!
I am addicted to Facebook, email, and online shopping, my favorite of the three being Facebook. I am always a day late as far as technology goes, so it's only natural that Facebook has been out for a few years and I am just getting an account. However, I have been on it a lot, there is the great communication with friends and family and the games. I really like that I can stay connected with old friends from high school. I can also play a variety of games, some even claim to save the rain forest. I highly recommend this to anyone with a computer, modem, and desire to become addicted.
My husband asked me yesterday if EMMCFCU was our new homepage. Of course its not, but I am there so often that he felt it necessary to ask. I am able to balance the checkbook, pay various bills, and plan family vacations online. My house would crumble if it wasn't for being able to pay bills online. I don't have to go to the place of business, I can save money on stamps and envelopes, and most sites offer the service for free. Oh what a world we live in.
"You've got mail" that familiar voice that greets me each time I sign onto AOL is as pleasing to me as ice cream on a hot summer's day. From enjoying the personal connection with friends to keeping my credit in good standing the Internet is always there for me. I think this was the most useful creation known to man. If we are ever without it for some reason the world might cease to exist.
In today's society people jump into things without thinking about the ramifications of their decisions. They think marriage is just something you do and if you don't like it then toss it, get divorced and move on. I don't think like that I have to be sure this will last forever. If his personality isn't one that compliments my own then we will be doomed from the get go. As luck would have it we balance each other perfectly. He is shy, reserved, and has a dry sense of humor, whereas I am loud, outgoing, and laugh at my own jokes. Its perfect because we never have to compete for the "stage".
One measure of a man is whether or not he has a job that provides enough to support himself and a potential family. He has been at his current job for six years and he is going to school to enhance his education and someday get a job that will provide more monetary support. This along with my job we should be in good standing to provide for any potential family we may have.
He is so in love with me. And he is willing to show it, I have never been with a man who has seemed proud to be with me. He is always there for me to support my emotions in any way he knows how. If I marry him I will never have to worry about not having a friend to lean on in rough and happy times. I am very lucky to have found a man willing to share his life with me and want the world to know.
This was almost five years ago, We are still happily married and going strong today. Sure we struggle like all married couples, but we remember why we got married to begin with. The vows we said on that hot day in August stay at the forefront of our minds and we strongly believe in their power. We live in a modest house and support our selves and out daughter without too much trouble and God willing we can continue that for a long time.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The books I checked out from the BPL were quite helpful. They have bright pictures, language that was easy to understand (not a lot of medical jargon), and the information was useful. They recommended speaking to a physician if a biological/physiological problem was suspected.
I have done a number of interviews. I am a member of an online group of Moms who share stories, bounce ideas off each other, and are a huge network of support. I got a lot of very encouraging words from them. Many stories were shared of thier own experiences with potty-training their children. It seems better to me to have "real" sources verses using impersonal books.
The last source I have is an interview I did with my daughters doctor yesterday. She seemed pleasant enough that Lucy is not potty-trained, but had undertones of disbelief that we have tried everything we have. This until she spoke with Lucy, then she seemed a little more understanding of our situation. She did tell us that some kids just train later and not to worry.
Overall my reasearch is coming togther and I plan to surf the web to see if there is anything out there to add.
“Step one, look at the list of ingredients you will need to make the cookies. Flour, white and brown sugar, butter, vanilla, salt, chocolate chips, eggs, baking soda. Get out the pan you will be cooking on. You also need two mixing bowls, mixing utensils, pot holders, a scoop, and your apron. Now you are going to put your apron on, wash your hands, and preheat the oven to 350 degrees." You ask, " Are those really the only ingredients you need to make cookies?" Your mom replies " Yes honey, they are very easy to make, shall we continue?" You nodd with anticipation. "After checking to make sure you have all the ingredients, your hands washed, and the oven preheated, it's time to start measuring and mixing. Using the small mixing bowl, add two sticks of butter, 3/4 cups white sugar, 3/4 cups packed brown sugar, and a teaspoon vanilla. Mix these ingredients until smooth. Add two eggs, stil until incoperated. In the second bowl, add 1 1/4 cups flour, a teaspoon baking soda, and a pinch of salt, stir to combine. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, a little at a time so the dry doesn't spill out. Stir until batter is smooth. Add one bag of chocolate chips, stir until mixed in." " Is it ok to eat the batter from the bowl?" you ask with a big grin on your face. " Just a taste, you wouldn't want to get sick from the raw eggs" she relplies with an equally big grin on her face.
" Now that you have your batter ready, oven ready, and lots of flour on your apron, its time to put the dough on the pan and get those cookies into the oven. Using the scoop, pull some batter from the bowl and dump it onto the pan, an nice big rounded scoopful works best. Keep doing this until you have placed dough all the way around the pan, leaving about an inch of space between each scoop. After you have the dough on the pan, place the pan into the preheated oven for nine minutes." " Why nine minutes, Mom?", you inquire. " Because that is the perfect amount of time to make the cookies soft, chewy, and not crusty.", she replies.
The aroma of the baking cookies is making you eagar to learn the last few steps so you can get to eating. " When the nine minutes are up, and the kitchen smells like a bakery, it is time to take the cookies out of the oven. Using the pot holders, carefully pull the pan from the oven and place it on top of the stove. The cookies will need to rest for just a minute before we put them on the cooloing rack." " Why do they have to rest", you ask. " Beacuse if we took thom hot off the hot pan they would crumble from the tempature schock", she informs. You wait, that minute seems like an eternity. " Ok, the cookies should be ready, we will use the spatula to remove them from the pan, and slide them onto the cooling rack, we do this one-by-one. They will need to stay here until they are completely cooled." "Why do they have to be completly cooled?", you question. " One, so we don't burn ourselves when we eat them, and two so they don't stick together when they are in the cookie jar", she says. While the cookies are cooling, you take this oppertunity to sample your work, extacy, these cookies should be in a musuem they are so good.
As you are sitting there with your mom, enjoying the fruits of your labor, you realize just how lucky you are. Lucky to have a Mom who loves you, lucky to have a house filled with the amazing scent of Mom's famous chocolate chip cookies, and lucky to be 8 years old and still have 10 years left to enjoy fresh-baked cookies from your Mom's kitchen. This is truely a special day, one that you will never forget. And when the time comes you hope that you will be able to bring your children here, to your Mom's house and the three of you will make chocolate chip cookies together.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Bec. Mom to Thane and Braden JLyn. 10 Oct 2008.
Bec was very helpful. She gave me a strategy for potty training that worked for her son. It involved the use of a timer and a lot of patience.
Lansky, Vicki. Toilet Training: A Giude to Daytime and Nighttime Training. Minnetonka,MN: Book Peddlers, 2002.
This book was cute. It made some jokes about how stressful potty training can be. It also had a lot of the same information all my sources had.
Meg Zweiback, R.N., C.P.N., M.P.H. Keys to Toilet Traning. Hauppauge, New York: Barron's Educational Series, Inc., 1998.
This book gave me 50 things I already knew about potty training. From not starting until the child is ready to not pushing them when they are not.
I strive myself on being mildly ambitious. I have always enjoyed school and making good grades. I would all but have a nervous break-down in school if I got a grade lower than a "B". My sister couldn't care less. She was a "D" student and had no desire to improve. My mother and teachers that we both had would say to her "why can't you be more like your sister?" I think this may have added to her "fuck this" attitude. Unfortunately this attitude had stuck with her. She has been out of school for a while now and doesn't intend on ever going back. She thinks that working at Wal-Mart is a fine life's career.
"Sir, ma'am, please, thank you" all words I use regularly. I was afraid to talk to people without respect. I would always ask if it was okay for me to get my own drink when I was a kid. If I didn't say please or thank you I would get "the look" and quickly correct myself. I am still, to this day quite polite. "Get me, now, whatever" words my sister uses to talk to people. She seems to think it's okay to tell people what to do, and be rude and disrespectful to them. When we were young she would always tell her father to get her a drink and when he would tell her no, she would roll her eyes and say something about him always getting it for Mom. My sister still continues with her rude ways, maybe someday she will see the light.
My house is no palace, you can't eat off the floors (why would you want to, we have plates), but at least there is nothing growing on the side boards. There are three of us who live at my house, one being three and not understanding that it is important to pick up after ourselves. It's not spotless, I may go a few days without vacuuming, and the laundry may go a day longer than it should, but my house is always presentable. The last time I was at her house there were frozen pizza boxes on the counters, an overflowing trash can, and someone had "forgotten" to flush the toilet after taking a huge dump. Was she trying to pick up, no, she was sitting on the couch playing video games. Its only her and her husband that live at her house, but they make the mess of five people.
Its hard to believe that two people who grew up in the same house, with the same parents could be as different as my sister and I are. My mother kept our house pretty clean, and when I was old enough i was expected to help keep it clean. My sister never had to do that. I guess when I really look at it, we may have had the same parents and lived in the same house, but we were brought up very different.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
I had strong convictions about chosing this topic for research. I windered if I would be able to find enough information to answer my questions and I also wondered if I might be opening up a can of worms I shouldn't be. I feel from writing this that I am somewho going to miraculously be able to potty-train my daughter. I know this is not true, but I have a phobia of failue and don't want to dissappoint. However, the main reason is for me to get answers to the questions I have about why my daughter, at the age of three, is not willing to learn to use the potty. Here are the questios I am hoping to answer:
1. Is there something wrong with my child that at 3 she doesn't want to train?
2. Is there something wrong with me, or my approach?
3. Will she just do it on her own when she is ready?
4. Is it OK to push a little to get her to do it?
5. Why is she not interested in potty-training?
6. Is she afraid of the toilet?
7. Is she afraid of growing up?
8. Do I need medical assistance to help her?
9. What can I do to better my methods that will be best for her?
Ashley, who is seven years younger than me started using the potty when she was two. We had only one bathroom at our house and it was upstairs. For a child just beginning to learn a new task and having to climb stairs quickly presented a challenge. My parents got her a portable potty chair that could be left down stairs until she got really good at giving us a warning as to when she needed to go. That phase didn't last long, she caught on pretty quick and we were able to let her learn to run quickly up the stairs so she wouldn't have an accident. All-in-all she learned to toilet-train in a few weeks. Of course it took years to get her to stop wetting her pants completely. She loved to play outside and refused to come in to use the bathroom when she needed to. I remember her being in kindergarten and she was still wetting her pants outside. I don't remember when she stopped completely, but I don't think it was too long after that.
Kayley, who is my uncle's daughter is 13 years younger than me. I used to babysit her during my school vacations. She was two when she started potty-training. I don't recall anything out of the ordinary with her. She was good and didn't wet her pants much. With her it seemed like we showed her what she had to do. I would ask her every hour or so if she needed to go, when she didn't she had to go every half-hour. It didn't take her long to get it, about a week and she was done. She never had any problems with wetting her pants.
My experience with my own daughter has been very much different. She is now three and we have been talking about potty-training for about six months. I wanted to wait for her to let me know when she was ready, but when all my co-workers who have children Lucy's age started talking about how their kids were going on the potty I kicked my nagging into overdrive. I am sure this is working to my detriment thought, as my daughter has absolutely no interest in using the toilet. We have gone to the store and picked out big-girl undies, videos, and potties. She knows how to use them and she knows what she has to do, she just refuses to do it. I thought if she just went once she would find her confidence and continue to do it, I was wrong. That experience just made me realize she knew what she was doing and was just trying to push my buttons. She couldn't care less if she has a soiled diaper, she will wear it and stink proudly. I hope after doing this project I can see what I am doing wrong, if there might be something physically wrong with her, or anything else I can do to speed this process up.
Linda, lovely Linda definitely falls into the I'm-better-than-you type of nurse. They are the ones you see with their noses pointed directly toward heaven, which is right where they think they will be going someday, little do they know they have a nice spot in a much warmer location awaiting them. This type of nurse lives in the best house, you know the three story, five bedroom, three bathroom, attached garage place in the ritzy neighborhood. These nurses don't let their children ride the school bus because the driver might be diabetic ( they neglect to take into consideration that everyone they come in contact with, including the other people on the road, airplane pilots, and other such transportation people all may be diabetic too). This type of nurse only wears designer clothes, no Wal-mart shopping for them. This type of nurse has no "real" friends because the only people they associate with are others like them who only use each other to advance their social status. This type of nurse makes me gag.
The most broad type of nurse is the I'm-here-just-to-get-the-job-done. This type of nurse isn't too bad to work with. You just have to remember to stay out of their way, cuz they are going to run you over trying to get things done. Looking that this type of nurse will sometimes make your head spin. However, most of the nurses in this category are very cold, impersonal, and have no sense of humor. As their name suggests they are only there to do a job and go home. They have no time for foolishness or to make friends. Thus if they have any friends they would be outside of the medical center, but because they don't want you monkeying around in their personal business you would never know if they had any friends. For that matter you don't even know what kind of house they live in, if their kids ride the bus, or maybe even if they have kids. The best thing about this type of nurse is that you never have to worry about them stirring the pot and trying to get anyone else in trouble, they only care about the work at hand.
The last type of nurse is the we-are-all-a-part-of-this-team type. They will bend over backwards to make sure their is nothing you need before they continue with what they are doing. They are always willing to lend a hand, This type of nurse does not care if you are a nurse, doctor, tech, secretary, or housekeeper, they values your position as part of the team. This is the rarest type of nurse. It is very hard to find a nurse who is willing to do all the things this type of nurse is willing to do. Sarah falls into this category. She is willing to go the extra mile to get it done. She does all her nursing tasks, plus she will answer phones, clean a dirty backside, take the trash to the soiled utility room, and even find the time to sit down and have a conversation with you. This type of nurse has a lot of friends because they are willing to listen and share about themselves and not use it all for personal gain. This is my favorite type of nurse, I am sure hospitals around the globe would run more efficiently if we had more of this type of nurse.
"I'm sorry Linda, I will not go get you coffee, I am pretty sure 'coffee-getter' is not in my job description. I am the secretary for this floor, not solely for you, you are just going to have to mosey your fat ass down the cafeteria and get it yourself". You can make a good living, save lives, and have a sense of job security in the health care field. I really do like my job, but after working along side nurses with RN-itis, I sure am glad to be heading in another direction. The world needs teachers and I am happy to be studying to be one.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I know I said I have no real need for speed, but if I speed so much, maybe I do. It wouldn't be that far fetched to me to like the rush. I like other things that seem the faster and scarier it is the more I like it. Take roller-coasters for example, if it is fast, has a lot of drops and goes up-side down, I am there. Maybe this is partly why I speed, the road has bumps and twists and turns. The exhilaration of being in control of something that goes fast entices me.
It seems I live about 20 minutes away from everything. I live 20 minutes from shopping, school, work, and my family. If I have to be somewhere at a certain time I tend to leave about 30 minutes before my scheduled arrival. If I were to drive the speed limit, I would arive about five minutes early give or take a few minutes for traffic and lights. I am one of those people that has to be somewhere ten minutes or more early. So, with that said, I guess I could stand to leave a little earlier, maybe I would be less rushed.
Oh that blessed road-rage. We all have it from time to time. I think overall I am pretty dosile though. However, my blood pressure does get elevated from time to time. The spot that seems to get me everytime is the one ramp from Hogan Raod to the south-bound lane of the highway. It seems people just don't understand the meaning of yeild. 90% of the time so jerk doesn't yeild to the lane with the green arrow and practically rams into me while I am trying to get on the highway. It is usually some old man, or hot-shot teenager. I just want to chase after them and give them a piece of my mind, instead I end up driving like a wild-woman just so I can pass them and flip them off. Maybe that is just a little touch of road-rage afterall.
I guess hindshight is 20/20, turns out I do actually suffer from the reason I thought had nothing to do with my lead-foot syndrome. In a class I am taking this semester, I have to do a behavior modification. Funny, I chose to maintain the enforced speed limit. So far I am doing pretty good with it, I have only looked down a few times to realize I was speeding, of course I have only looked down a few times. It has really amazed me how much gas I am saving though. I filled up a week ago and was only getting 27 miles/gallon, I filled us this week(after being more cautious of my speed) and am now getting 31 miles/gallon. That in it self is almost enough inspiration to stop speeding. I hope I am able to continue my good progress. "Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long, if you're going my way, I wanna drive it all night long..."
Background: This is my first child, therefore it is my only experience in potty training alone. I do have a much younger sister that I helped(and did most of the work) to potty train. But I had the help of those more wise than I. I also have a little cousin that I helped train because I was her babysitter the summer she trained. Other than that I am clueless.
Questions I want answered:
- Is there something wrong with my child that at 3 she doesn't want to train?
- Is there something wrong with me, or my approach?
- Will she just do it on her own when she is ready?
- Is it OK to push a little to get her to do it?
- Why is she not interested in potty-training?
- Is she afraid of the toilet?
- Is she afraid of growing up?
- Do I need medical assistance to help her?
- What can I do to better my methods that will be best for her?
Reasons I chose this topic: I thought if I could use this Isearch paper as a starting point, maybe I could get my questions answered and be able to help my daughter potty-train. I know she understands what she has to do and that she has to do it, she just won't. I would like to find out why. I am hoping that at the end of this we will be able to breeze through the rigorous task that is potty-training.