Skype Hype

Had you asked me 2 years ago what I thought of technology, my response would have been vastly different than it is today.  It wasn't until I joined the staff of FC Downtown (also known as the revolving door of the latest handheld device), that I even entered the world of smart phones.  Until then, I was perfectly content with my pink Katana flip phone.  It was cute, it sent texts, and most importantly, it made phone calls.  I make lots of phone calls.

It took me a long couple of years and some very persuasive teenagers to convince me to make a MySpace page.  After that became uncool, I went back to being perfectly content in my uncoolness.  Then those teenagers and their Facebook came along, and I begrudgingly joined them.  Kind of.  It was the running joke (the kind that's funny because it's true) that I averaged about 6 months between visits to said Facebook page.

Then I had Brynna.  Staying home meant less time at the computer, less time to talk without someone adding unwelcomed background noises and no more yelling down the hall to tell Janay something funny.  So one day while Brynna was napping, I put on my big girl panties and overcame my fears and repulsions.  I pulled up Google and searched, "twitter."  Not only did I make a twitter account, but I figured out how to send twitter updates from my phone and link them to my Facebook page.  A few months later, I also figured out how to link all that nonsense to Twitpic.  Yep.  All by my big-girl self.

Fast forward to this week - My little daughter blew kisses with her cousins.  My big daughter showed me the new pictures in her room and told me about school and tennis and boys.  My husband joked with my sister.  My dad showed me a pair of my mom's shoes he doesn't like.  All over Skype.

Years ago, when I first moved to Dallas from Oklahoma, I hit a seriously low point.  Life without my 2 best friends close felt unbearable.  Phone calls helped, but I felt like I missed so much.  I learned to cope but then 2 years ago when I quit working, I again felt so far away from people - and they were in the same city.  These (seemingly) silly social media outlets helped me stay connected to all of them.  Now, as my world keeps expanding with my family in different time zones and continents, I no longer feel disconnected.  It's different.  Of course, I still have really sad days when I wish I could let Taylor lay her head in my lap or watch Brynna play with Zoe and AJ.  But I would have never dreamed 2 years ago that I'd sit in my bedroom in Texas and talk to my sister in Malaysia.

So, I have to give it to you, Technology.  Skype, you really are worth all the hype.

Brynna-tude

Brynna-tude: | bri-na-tood | a show of individuality manifested in boisterous actions and behaviors; typically loud and attention-grabbing, often unbecoming, usually embarrassing (for her or me...or both); most always funny (after the fact)

Exhibit A: Gymnastics

Brynna has more energy than her little body (and certainly mine) can handle.  She often refuses to nap during the day because she's just that wound up and can't lay down for fear of missing something.  (I've tried to explain all she'll miss is me trying not to fall asleep while doing chores, but she is convinced I spend her sleeping time throwing parties with fabulous people).  This summer, we decided that a good way for her to expend some of her energy would be in a gymnastics class once a week.  Her daddy was a gymnast, she's built just like him, she's not afraid to sacrifice her body...it made sense.  We had to wait for her to be 18-months-old, so when that time came around, we headed to ASI for her free trial and to sign up for monthly classes.  I purposely chose a Wednesday morning because there were no other classes happening and given her tendency for short attention spans, I felt it best to minimize distractions.  So last Wednesday morning, we loaded up and off we went...

10:00 - pulled up to ASI, Brynna finished her (imaginary but apparently hilarious) conversation with Papa and we walked in as she laughed like a goofball

10:05 - Checked in and met another little girl named Riley

10:10 - First up, trampoline - Brynna didn't love it, but I jumped with her and she started smiling.  Until I stepped off (since I wasn't actually allowed to be on anyway).  At this point, she threw herself to the tramp and began rolling, kicking and screaming.  Meanwhile, Riley is standing 4 feet away, staring at the crazy girl but continuing to jump with hands on her head, belly, etc. as the teacher instructed.

10:15 - Twin boys arrive, happily run to their spots on the trampoline and join Riley in the fun - the fun being following the teacher while watching Brynna who is by now army crawling off the trampoline toward the "fun zone" where she wanted to slide.  (I know she wanted to slide because she was crying, "SLIDE! I wanna SLIDE!" at the top of her lungs.)

10:20 - Next up, circle time - After trying to jump but having difficulty thinking over the sound of Brynna's fit, everyone moved to the circle area for music and movement.  They walked.  I carried my child, still kicking and screaming for the slide.  For about 17 seconds, Brynna's crying abruptly stopped, while she determined if this was fun enough for her discerning taste.  It wasn't.  As though brought about with the flip of a switch, the red face, tears and screaming started back up in full swing.

10:25 - Mommy needs a time out because she got smacked in the face...twice.  Brynna refused to calm down whether I was holding her or not, so we went to sit on the bench and watch from afar.  As we walked away, one of the moms looked at me and said, "It's ok.  Patrick didn't like it at first, either.  It's just new and scary for her."  My filter was non-existent at this point, so I smiled back but said, "This girl isn't scared of anything.  She just wants to do what she wants to do.  But sadly for her, I win."

10:30 - Brynna and I put shoes back on, spoke briefly to the lady at the desk about maybe trying again in a month or so and promptly went home.  Her (still imaginary) conversation continued as soon as we got in the car as if the previous 30 minutes didn't happen, and she was saying, "Sorry for that interruption.  I'm back."

If i were a drinking woman, it would have been a start-before-noon kind of day.  I'm not.  So instead, I put Brynna in her bed with some books and her Minnie Mouse doll for some "me time" and went on the back patio for some "me time" of my own.

Exhibit B: Shoes

I take full credit and responsibility for Brynna's love of shoes.  (I share with Honey K, NayNay and Auntie Kel, but I'm her mom, so I'll fall on the sword.)  Although the "SH" sound is not all that easy to say, "shoes" was one of her first words.  She insists on picking out her own shoes each day and has for months.  I lay out 2 or 3 options, she puts back the ones she doesn't want and starts the attempt at putting on her chosen pair.  Yesterday was chilly, so I gave her options, but all were tennis shoes so she could wear socks.  Brynna did not want to wear tennis shoes.  She wanted to wear her butterfly flip flops.  In her defense, they matched her shirt well, but they weren't an option.  I explained that we do not, under any circumstance, wear socks with sandals and began putting on her Pumas.  A Fit then ensued while I put shoes on a moving target.

If you need a play-by-play of what a Fit (capital F) looks like, see Exhibit C: The Video.

As usual, it took a minute, but I won.  We loaded up and headed to school.  I handed her over to Mrs. Kelly, who put her down to play with the other kids.  But did my chid begin to play?  No.  Brynna Grace Johnston sat in the middle of the room, looked straight at me and started removing her shoes.  I told her no and explained our morning.  Thankfully, Mrs. Kelly knows Brynna very well, and she ensured those shoes stayed on all day.

Now, don't think I'm a shoe Nazi.  I love them, but I normally don't care if the shoes stay on or off.  But ages 13-18 are going to be exciting enough without her learning now that if she doesn't like Mom's rules, she can change once she gets to school.  Lord, give me strength! 

Exhibit D: ........................

Another day...I'm exhausted just writing about it!

Please note before watching:

1.  I am not responsible for the repercussions if you watch at work with the volume too high and get in trouble.  Consider yourself warned.

2. This video was a few months ago, but it still pretty much looks the same.

3.  Yes, Miles has become so accustomed he just walks by without acknowledgement.

4.  Yes, you are correct.  I chose to record it before addressing it.  This was not the first or the last.  I needed documented proof.  I am not crazy.  If I keep saying it, it will be true, right?  I am not crazy.

(Not so) Ordinary Days

Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't write if I don't have something witty or deep to share.  I'm not sure who determined what I "should" and "shouldn't" write, but in my head, I have honored the wishes of these people who don't actually exist.  But last night, as I prayed with Brynna before bed, I recognized that I've praised God the same way for several days in a row...

"Thank you, God, for ordinary days.  Thank you for blessing us with the resources so I get to be here to witness it all.  Even when we have tantrums and arguments and meltdowns, especially when we have smiles and kisses and hugs.  Thank you for a healthy little girl so full of life it leaks out on the people around her.  Thank you for letting me be here for all the 'normal' stuff and everything else, too."

I have said before, it was a struggle for me to quit my job.  God called me (as He has before and since) to sacrifice me and follow Him.  I have done that - albeit, some days better than others - and I have never taken for granted the blessing it is.  But I still think like me.  I still think that our routine of wake up, breakfast, play, run around town, lunch, nap, run around town some more, play, meet daddy at the door, dinner, bath, bedtime is nothing special.  I still assume there's no need to write about such an "ordinary" day.

But last night, my perspective changed.  These are not-so-ordinary days.  There's something spectacular about the blessing of getting to watch a child of God grow.  Even at her worst, when she's tired or cranky or just has that infamous Brynna-tude, we are blessed to be doing it all together.  So I'm going to do better about documenting even the days that feel average and ordinary.  Because these are the days I'll cherish forever.  These are the days I'll think back on as I tell Brynna how blessed I was to follow God's call to first and foremost, be her mom.  These are the not-so-ordinary days...

first day of school with a new backpack!

CHEESE!!

"weeng!  i want to weeng!"

"what? who? me?"

6 Steps to Potty Training (or at least laughing while you potty train)

When and if you are next potty training a 17-month-old, please follow these instructions...

1.  Remove diaper and watch her go.  Brynna has been showing the signs she's ready to nix the diapers, and my checkbook was in agreement.  So Saturday morning, we got up, took the diaper off and away we went.  I read that going no-diaper helps you see when they are going and it removes the step of taking off the diaper when trying to get there fast.  Right.  It does those things.  It also ensures you have a 2-foot-tall streaker in your house.  I have never seen someone so excited to run naked in all my life.  (And I've seen that guy in Austin who sits naked on the corner playing his guitar!)

2.  Place potty seat on a surface that can easily be wiped clean.  I am one of those people who doesn't believe in child-proofing the house.  I believe in house-training the child.  My breakables aren't put away; my glass vases weren't replaced with primary colored plastic wear when BG entered the scene.  I don't even like the word "potty" so it pained me to have one sitting in the middle of the sun porch.  Since then, the potty seat has followed us.  It has resided in every bathroom, my bedroom (on a plastic pad), the family room and poolside.  I still refuse to let it in the kitchen, though.

3.  Give lots of juice.  I was told repetition would help drive the point home.  Yes.  Or it gives me a new appreciation for Clorox wipes.  One or the other.

4.  Don't wear anything you might, possibly, someday ever want to wear again.  While I  did laundry and got the house back in order this weekend, David and Brynna played.  They stayed pretty close to the potty seat and wipeable surfaces until Daddy got brave.  They were talking to Honey K on the phone when I heard a frantic, "Mom, I'm going to have to call you back!"  I turned to find BG reading a book and David wet from chest to knees.  (She has a strong core and great bladder control.  When it comes, it comes with a vengeance.)  I've worn a lot of gym shorts and tank tops this week...

5.  Reward good behavior.  Be aware that offering M&M's from the freezer might cause a 20 minute session of screaming at random points in the day where your child yells, "Treat!  Treeeeeat!" and bangs on the refrigerator door.

6.  Laugh.  A lot.  We've had a number of accidents this week, and while I tell her that pee-pee doesn't belong on the floor, I can't help but smile when she stands there pantless petting the dog while I clean up the floor.  And yesterday, when she sat on the potty seat next to the pool and later opted for no swim suit...that's funny stuff.  At one point today, I stood laughing at my little lady sitting on her potty seat with a stack of books next to her, Minnie Mouse panties around her feet.  At another point, I hugged her while she cried because she needed to "poo-poo" but doesn't yet understand fully that she controls the ability to do so.  She didn't want to get up, she just needed some TLC.  So I sat on the floor with my arms around her while she sat on her potty.  Now that's funny.  And an image I will carry with me forever.

I have dreaded potty training since before Brynna was even here.  I was the director of children's ministry and witnessed every step of the process in hundreds of kids.  I didn't enjoy the view from a distance, so I didn't anticipate the up-close and personal view being any better.  It's definitely as gross as I imagined, and I'm really ready to pass this hurdle.  But I wouldn't trade going through it with her for the world.