Gearing Up

How are we celebrating our Nation's Independence Day? We're potty training. That's right. The three-day thing. Happy Birthday America, we're giving away all of our diapers.

The plan requires us to ahem, stay at home all weekend (we plan on scheduling shifts for Pete and I so we won't inevitably be like I THOUGHT YOU WERE WATCHING HER!) and basically be glued to her side at all times. We don't ask her if she has to go, we ask her to tell us when she has to go. Each time she does her biz, she gets stickers and at the end of the day if she does all her biz in the potty, she gets a toy. (Our parenting book Positive Discipline says you shouldn't reward kids with toys but everyone who I know uses the 3-day thing swears by it, so we're deferring to them).

Last night we told her tonight we'd be going to Target so she can pick out her very own panties. She didn't want to go to sleep she was so excited. We reminded her this morning and again when we picked her up from daycare. She said she wanted Superman panties, and we didn't have the heart to tell her they don't make those for girls, so we headed straight to the boys section tonight. We got her a pack of Justice League underwear, which include a pair with the Superman logo (as well as Batman, Green Lantern and two other dudes I can't place. She asked me over and over again who they were, and then asked Pete. We both shrugged and said we don't know but they looked cool.) She also got a pack of underwear with the characters from the movie Cars: Lime-ming MaCream is her favorite. We headed to the girls section and picked out three more packs of underwear and we managed to avoid most of the Princess or Disney ones (no small feat!). The Paul Frank ones are the cutest. On the way out, we also found a pair of Lime-ming MaCream undershirt and matching underwear, so we got her that too. In total, we have more than 35 pairs of underwear: that should do it.

Then came the fun part: TOYS. We found a four-pack of Playdough, a new set of Matchbox cars (with, hilariously, a red Prius), new crayons and new markers for drawing. Poor thing had been subsisting on old crayons for a while. We found a book of "Reward" stickers as they are called (360 -- that should do it) and she picked out her own poster board, which is that unfortunate hooker pink shade. Gah. But the plan is to decorate her poster with her name on it and jazz it all up, place it in the bathroom above the potty and let her put her Reward stickers on it as she progresses. 

I'm more than a little nervous about going stir crazy in the house. It'll also make cooking meals interesting, since when we stay in all day she's super spaz and likes to be "helping" do the dishes one minute and jumping on her bed the next. So. 

The training manual we're using has a zillion guidelines and things to say and not say to make it pretty easy. Given the fact she told everyone at Chipotle, REI and Target that she was getting new panties (and we added because she's a big girl now and doesn't need diapers), we're pretty sure she's ready and fingers, toes and eyes crossed, this weekend we'll go smoothly. 

That Thing We Don't Like to Talk About

Today we're going to talk about a taboo subject called Miscarriage. I've just had my second. It does not mean I have failed in any way. It does not mean there's something wrong with me as a person. It likely means something is off with my system. It means that nature and God have other plans for me.

I've never been one of those people who keeps pregnancy a secret at the beginning. Besides being a person that continually puts it all out there and tells people, well pretty much everything, I just always wanted the support and happy vibes from people from the beginning. After I miscarried last fall at 8 weeks, I was comforted by the wealth of love and support from friends and family. And this miscarriage (7 weeks) was no different. Friends and family rallied to support me and hold me and Team Hansen in their hearts. How could anyone not want that? I can't imagine suffering alone or telling people after the fact about that one time I miscarried. I don't believe it's a topic that should be a secret, or that a woman should somehow be ashamed of. It happens. More often than you'd think. It's not a statement of something inherently wrong with a person. 

As for me and us, we're continuing to process the wave of emotions. It was shocking, and we were/are very sad. We'll be seeing a specialist soon to hopefully get some answers and make some tweaks that will have us on the road to Team Hansen, Party of Four, in no time. I'm confident that will be the case.

Sneak Peek

Here's what we did Saturday. 

More About U2

It didn't really hit me until they showed a black and white video (embedded in Pete's post below) with a shot of the band walking out onto stage. For the past, oh just 25 years, I've loved U2 and have had a massive crush on the drummer, Larry Mullen Jr. Also known as Lawrence, in case you were wondering. So when I saw that shot, I start screaming like a hysterical teenager, mouth agape, unable to reconcile the fact that a dream for 25 years was finally coming true. 

Forget the fact it was Pete's present for a minute, will ya? 

For my 15th birthday, what I wanted to do MORE THAN ANYTHING, was go see Rattle and Hum, the U2 documentary about their then-tour. I had already watched The Unforgettable Fire and memorized every lyric of that album and the Joshua Tree. This was before Pandora and iTunes, ahem, so I had to go to Rainbow Records  and scour the U2 section for a cassette tape, then dedicate a good hour of time to listen to the first side, note my favorite songs, memorize the lyrics, then flip sides and do the same. On Nov. 15, 1988, opening night at the Cineplex, I went to see it, and was beyond beyond beyond thrilled. It was insanely awesome.

So maybe I was a little obsessed. 

During the concert I continued to elbow Pete and just look at him with the most CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING look on my face. The swagger/lunge/weird dance of Bono and suggestive grunts, all memorized from Rattle and Hum, were there. Larry playing his heart out on the drums. Edge rocking it and providing backup vocals and Adam punctuating the songs with his bass. It was all there, and perhaps I'm being melodramatic, but it really was everything I had hoped it would be. I know Pete was thrilled, and really, it was such a memorable night. I sat there and wondered, why don't we go to awesome concerts more often? Because THIS -- THIS NIGHT -- was all about making memories. 

So what I'm saying is, it was so awesome. Beyond awesome. 

U2 Concert

Last Christmas Heather bought me (us) two tickets to go see U2 at the Oakland Coliseum, (now officially called Overstock.com Coliseum, which is ironic because it never sells out). Lenny Kravitz was opening band and he was already rocking hard by the time we got there. On the outfield there was a giant circle stage with a circular 360 walkway around it, a couple of bridges and to top it off a 167ft spider structure on top of that with a giant 360 degree monitor:

Our seats were in the nosebleeds, but directly center of the stage so the view was amazing. Heres a video of when the band enters the stage:

Pretty amazing. The most magical moment was when Bono was talking about what a man would see from 200 miles up, no borders, cities blending into ribbons of light.. He then cues to this man, which is Mark Kelly Giffords which says Hello Oakland! Floating in The International Space Station he introduces the next song: A Beautiful Day. This wasn't the only city given the outer space treatment, you can see a link of Giffords intro video here.

We had a great time at the concert, however on our way home we got trapped in the crowd trying to get on the BART which is conveniently located just a short walk away from the stadium but when thousands try to cross a walk bridge it can get pretty tight. We made it though and could have slept 5 hours more this morning.

All Things Poo-sidered

Lucia seems to be obsessed with poop lately. Obsessed. She wants to see it and talk about it a lot. We are sure this is a sign she's ready to potty train, and we have it on our calendars 2 weeks from this weekend to do the 3-day potty training thing. We'll start Saturday morning and hope by the time I go to work Monday she'll have the hang of it.

In the meanwhile, we continue to have scenes like tonight, where she walked out of her room and proclaimed, "Mommy I have a big poop!" And in her hand, she held that same poop, taken out of her diaper. Once we stopped gagging over it and kinda freaking out about the potential contamination, I thought it was absolutely hilarious and a rite of passage. Both Pete and I have poo-related stories from our childhood (him = Poocasso, me = helpfully putting it in a drawer to avoid making the potty dirty), so I thought it was so funny. Pete did not. But that's OK. We got it cleaned up and afterwards I told Lucia to make sure she didn't do that again; if she wanted her diaper changed she could tell me.

I've heard potty training can open a whole 'nother set of challenges with accidents and constantly having to ask if she has to go and lots of false alarms, but none of those sound worse than handling a giant piece of poo.