So, when we moved, we decided that maybe this was a perfect time to transition Max on a few things like potty training, a big boy bed and eating at the table instead of the high chair. The potty training is going very slowly and he's only peed in the Elmo toilet twice (both by accident, not intent) but he doesn't like having poop in his diaper anymore and will tell you "POOP" if it happens. Apparently this is a good sign but since I SUCK at potty training, our progress will continue to go slowly. He has also discovered the joy of throwing stuff into the toilet and flushing it. I predict my iPhone will find itself in a watery grave. One thing I have managed to do is instill some manners and he's very good with the thank yous and such so when he does flush things or if I have to pee and lord knows I have no privacy anymore so I have to pee with him standing next to me yelling "MOMMY POTTY" and then when he flushes it, he yells "BYE BYE POTTY, BYE BYE" at full volume. It was cute the first 467 times but now...not so much when we're in the Target bathroom which is very echo-y.
Anyway, we also decided that we would use a booster chair at the table instead of the high chair. It went okay the first few times but he's become a food thrower, especially when he doesn't like something as evidenced by the half-chewed piece of lettuce that ended up in my hummus last night. He will also put his feet on the table and push himself back, almost toppling over backward, until we jump up for the millionth time to tell him to stop. Well, last night I was DONE WITH THIS CRAP. My dumb stroke gave me headaches and I also had to lug him around Global Foods yesterday on my shoulder because while a nap at home was apparently unacceptable to him, sleeping through the grocery store was totally fine but it meant a pulled muscle for me so I wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine by dinner time. Well, he wouldn't stop throwing salad, even though he spent the whole time I was making the salad yelling "SARAD" so I know he wanted it, and when we told him to stop he retaliated by throwing it at the dog (she didn't seem to mind) so I decided some tough love was in order. I got him out of his seat, explained that this was not how we eat at the table and he spent the rest of the time in his playpen. He was, as you can imagine, not thrilled about this. Jeff and I went back to the kitchen and had a nice dinner, completely ignoring the yelling coming from the other room. I felt bad at first but this shit has to stop and if I teach him nothing else, I want him to have some damn manners and he must not be too hungry if he's more interested in throwing the food than eating it. When I was a kid, we had to call parents by Mr. or Mrs. or Ms. and we were NOT allowed to act up like this without getting into serious shit but I guess that isn't the way to do things these days or else people call you a mean mom. I don't even think they make kids call their teachers by Mr or Mrs anymore which I think is crap but I digress. Anyway, this all means that he isn't a baby anymore (newsflash), he's a kid with an attitude and I'm hell bent on making sure that attitude stays in check. I am clearly delusional.
Our last transition is the big boy bed, because he's become a total bear to get to sleep anymore. He wants to sleep with us or on the floor of his room so I figured maybe we can try a little bed. I'm clearing the room of anything he can kill himself with and gating the doorway and we're going to give it a go. Worst case he can't handle it and the crib goes back in but if it does work and we can all get better sleep then it's worth the experiment. I already picked out the bed from Ikea so this will happen sooner than later. If you notice your grocery store is totally out of wine, you'll know why.