Training & Tantrums...

Its a quiet evening at the Gomez house...

Liz is in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner, Stephen is greeting his children after arriving home from work, when all of a sudden...

NAKED ABIGAIL!!!!

So here it is, my most recent cry for help to another mommy: 

I would seriously love some advice. Especially since you have trained four kids, you have probably have seen everything! I actually attempted potty training Abby at 18 months, and quickly learned a very valuable lesson... She is JUST like her dad. She doesn't like being bothered with anything for the first hour she is awake! Needless to say, I have spent the last 6 months working on this with her. She still is not a big fan of mornings, but at least now she isn't crying hysterically at having to use her legs to walk. She wakes up from naps and bed times dry, will take off her own diaper if it is wet, and its very obvious when she has a bm. She is extremely strong willed, and takes after me. She tests her boundaries every couple of days and its a battle of wills for up to 30 minutes. All that to say, her strong will doesn't like being put on the potty! We have two different potties. The first is a small one that sits on the ground. Its very easy for her to get on and off by herself. The second, is a little seat that fits onto our toilet. She is so picky. She likes the height of the small one, but the cushion of the big one. (And I have tried putting the cushion on the small one, it doesn't work.) So far as rewards, I lavish on the praise. And anytime she does something positive, like sitting, pulling down her pants, washing her hands, etc., she gets a sticker (even if nothing else happens) When she does go, I have given her a small piece of candy. In all honesty, I don't know which one she is more excited about... After realizing that she wasn't ready the first time, I decided to wait until I thought she was ready. So for the last two days, any time she gets wet, off comes the diaper! When she did this last night, my husband started laughing. I asked if he thought it might be time to try again, and he said "go for it!" So that's where we are. I am not a fan of the training pants that feel like diapers, but I have conceded to use them for naps and at bed time just in case. Any recommendations would be warmly welcomed. Thanks, Liz PS. Out of curiosity, what language did you use? I am wondering if the baby talk of "pee pee" and "poo poo" is helping...

So now that you have stopped laughing... Please, share if you have had success, and if not, glean from the wisdom of those who have gone before us...

"Home"

We just got back from our visit to Southern California. And to be completely honest, I don't think I was ready for it...

Its been a little over a year since we moved to Oregon. Portland has been the home for many of our family's firsts. Abigail turned one, which I now realize is more of a mommy accomplishment than anything else. We got Stephen a puppy on Mother's Day, and yes, it is HIS dog. (Havana respects him as the only leader of the family.) And we had our second baby girl, Rachel Helene. Even with so many wonderful memories, I have had difficulty in adjusting my thinking that Portland is home. I would always default Los Angeles as being home. I was just on a really long missions trip.

Visiting California this weekend was different. It no longer feels like home. Driving on childhood streets and eating at In & Out felt strange. I would feel a surge of emotions at these familiar intersections, but they were so empty. Its like I was longing for something that didn't exist. It was actually kind of depressing, like the day after Christmas. What I really wasn't expecting was how seeing friends and family made it worse. I was overwhelmed with so much joy to see them, hug them, kiss them, love them... And yet, it caused me real pain to see them. 

The thing about home, what really makes it home, is family. I really don't have close friends. I have family. There are those who were born into it and those who have been married into it. And then there are those who are so close to me that they have become family. They went to great lengths to see us, and even then, some of them just couldn't manage it. It was these, my family, that I felt anguish for. Some of them had experienced devastating pain in the last year. They had lost spouses, children, jobs, homes, and some had lost everything. And I had missed it. 

I love being a listening ear, caring eyes, warm arms, and a gentle shoulder. I was not able to be there, I couldn't be. What's worse is that I have been none of those things to my new family in Portland. Truth be told, I haven't been me. I have allowed myself to be consumed with my own drama. I have not truly cared for anyone else. I may have been sympathetic, but I have not made the leap towards living my life sacrificially for anyone else. 

It was quite the revelation to realize that the community I so longed for, I was actively refusing to engage in. I have actually been substituting an artificial community of quick smiles and local stores for genuine relationships. Its not about which neighborhood I live in, which is Kerns now, but rather who I am choosing to share my life with. I know that demographics are important and practical. But I think my issue of not feeling at home has nothing to do with which side of Burnside I live on. 

What's even crazier, Stephen and I are entertaining thoughts of buying a place. I know, we have only lived in our current place for two months! When we were originally looking for a place, I wanted it to be close to where we were. Now with my wrestling with community, I don't care as much. I still want to be close, but I guess I don't feel the need to substitute familiar streets and buildings for the security that comes from deep and intimate relationships.

As silly as it sounds, I thought I would be betraying my family in California by developing a new one here in Oregon. Like I would be stealing or depriving them of something. When I was pregnant with Rachel, I remember talking to my mom about my worry over not being able to love her as much as I loved Abigail. She laughed. She told me that your heart grows. It doesn't take anything away, but that your capacity increases. Granted I will have to manage things a little more tightly, but that's life.

So here's to loving family.