Explore the world; dance a jig

Swaddle-baby and his friend the engineer

Some fun details: Keen in his mama made blanket. Truman in his Pam made shirt. Grandma and grandpa's birthday present to Truman.

Unplugging for peace

The title makes it sound like I am about to start a long journey of getting people to turn off the lights to save the world and create peace.

Maybe someday ... ;)

For now it's just for me and I am not talking about lights.

I am talking about this blinking box.

In the weeks leading up to the birth of Keen and in the second week after he was born I spent a lot of time on this thing. I was trying to rest by sitting in a big recliner snuggling my baby and I was using the computer to keep me company.

But then I realized I needed to create more rhythm and actually stick to it.

So I got off the computer and got into being with my boys.

And you know what? It's blissful.

Now when I check my email or facebook I find I am overloaded with the amount of info I have to catch up on and I will have to find a way to manage that.

But for now the most important thing is these little guys and keeping the peace within us all and collectively as a family.

I made a huge list of all the things I think we each need and how we can get these and you know how people say if you write down your goals you will achieve them?

Well, it is working.

My mother in law helped me finish cleaning the basement and I am about to have a home simplified to only the toys we really want that we can actually keep clean.

The flip side of this is that I probably won't be spending as much time keeping up with people or blogging; I will still be doing the project and will update whenever the time I have to do so meets the desire I have to do so.

I also want to get back to my roots. I am trying to take a picture of my boys every day and there is no better place to put them then right here.

EC Files: week three

We are nearing the end of week three and EC is really going well. Just when I thought it was kinda hard and contemplated just putting him in a diaper and forgetting about it things began to click.

I should say that putting him in a diaper and forgetting about it is not really even an option now because Keen doesn't like pooping in diapers.

He doesn't really even like peeing in them, but he will if he needs to.

Mostly, though, he just tells me when he has to go even if he is in a diaper and holds it until I help him.

Yesterday while I cooked and cleaned he slept in the swing and I thought it would be a terrible EC day. Me not being skin to skin would mean he wouldn't be able to tell me and we'd go through tons of prefolds.

But, no, the entire time Joe was at work we only used one prefold. And it only was peed on after 4 p.m. when I was holding him skin to skin.

It reminded me that this process is not about me training him but about him telling me.

This is baby cued not parent cued.

This is nothing I am doing but listening to my child and helping him to use a receptacle instead of a diaper.

It's incredibly simple and natural but also amazing to me.

PPC day eighty: sometimes they know better

This morning Truman wanted pizza so I thought of a plan to take a tortilla, cheese, carrots he could chop himself and some chicken, stick it in the oven and: pizza.

This made me realize that in all the time I wasn't cooking in the last six or more weeks I didn't notice that Truman really likes to cook.

So what used to be taking time from him, making a mess, cleaning a mess, finding something else for him to do -- often making a mess in the kitchen -- has become a win-win.

So I planned to make these pizzas open face because that is what a pizza is, but Truman wanted a tortilla on top, then while I wasn't looking, another tortilla on top.

If I was looking I would have told him that he didn't need three tortillas in his pizza. That is a lot of tortilla.

But while they were cooking I got distracted and burned them. Well, guess whose pizza turned out great?

The one with the safety tortilla.

I just pealed the burned tortilla off and there it was a perfectly good quesdadi ... I mean ... pizza.

He knows best sometimes. I need to remember that when I am looking and in situations that involve things more important than pizza.

And the rest of our lives is deciding when to trust him and when to trust me.

Wish us luck.

PPC day seventy nine: I made dinner

That, my friends, is a huge task.

I usually end up waiting until 4 or 5, then am forced into some kind of boring or non-ideal dinner, which for the end of pregnancy meant Joe would be greeted by a very round, hungry lady and a stir-crazy 2-year old zooming toward bed time.

Then I would request to go out because, frankly, the idea of cooking was exhausting. Or we would eat something prepared simply. Nothing exciting to the soul.

I am lucky enough to be part of a community that sent me food after Keen was born and oh were the home cooked meals delicious.

Thank you Nikki, Sally, Meredith, Jen, Vanessa (who was compelled to make "Keenwa" (quinoa) salad), Amy (who had a baby just 10 days before Keen was born) and Katrina (who was kind enough to bring them right to me).

Yesterday I started thinking about all the things I want to do and got pretty overwhelmed. I made a list of needs each of us has and a loose outline for each day.

Then thought, "I can't do all this, ahhh."

But after sleeping I felt there was only one way to find out.

So I tried.

And here I am about to feast on the fruits of my labor.

And it was something Truman and I could do together. He likes to chop and stir.

Instead of feeling the need to escape the house at the end of this day, I feel excitement to sit down with my family (of 4!) and eat a meal we made in peace with love.

And some yelling. I am not going to lie; there was definitely peace and love, but also yelling.

Breastmilk and webprint

I was thinking about how dramatically the Internet has changed the stay at home mom role while I was entering my freelance work today, snuggled in the big recliner as Keen enjoys his breakfast.

When I became a mother I had no idea I would be typing one handed milk-sloshed sentences sent out into the real world of stain-free folks who spend little time thinking about poop or how amazing it is that the letter Z is involved in the word Zebra.

But here I am in my second freelance job and finding it lovely.

Sometimes I wonder if making the small amount of money I can bring in is worth the time sacrifice away from my children and the adjustment to a working mind but then I realize that there is something to be gained from the sense of duty that is involved in knowing someone else is reading something I have written.

It doesn't matter how small it is or how insignificant, it cuts the edge off the feeling of isolation that can sometimes overwhelm the stay at home experience.

It is the "if a tree falls" concept of the recognition of existence. I know that others know that I exist as a person outside of this experience of motherhood and that feels good in any capacity.

And at the same time I wouldn't want anything more than what I already have because these moments with my children are precious and every moment I spend validating my identity outside of this is a moment I lose embracing this.

EC Files: week one

Keen hasn't worn a diaper since we left the hospital. He lays on prefolds and as we snuggle we learn from each other.

I caught a poop the first or second night, our first pee yesterday and a few more today.

I am amazed to see the way he is learning to use the few actions with which he can communicate to say he has to pee, poop or burp.

He wiggles his feet at night to let me know his prefold is wet and I add a new one. He tries to latch but won't when he needs to poop or burp and when he needs to pee he wiggles or kicks.

Often he will communicate before he really has to go then wait and I have to watch for the second EC.

He likes to pee a little, poop, then pee more and he responds to our cue psssss.

Truman likes to join in and cue his brother.

I am more relaxed this time, my mantra is: nurture the relationship, respect the needs of the child, enjoy the catches, forget the misses, stay focused on the present.




... this is why my children don't wear pants ...

PPC day sixty four: delayed gratificatiion

Keen is fussy at night. At least for now there is about a two hour period each night in which he initiates nursing but will not latch and if he gets frustrated enough kicks, screams, wiggles.

The first night of this I felt lost. Truman needed me all the time but I could fix everything with milk. Keen needs more than that. He needs me to help protect him from getting frustrated.

So last night I did. For two hours or more we switched position every time he got frustrated and it helped.

I was waiting to eat a small piece of chocolate until he fell asleep and while this may have added to my frustration my snack of water and chocolate in being delayed seemed to amplify the pride and love I felt when he was asleep there in my arms, lulled by diligence, presence, patients and love.

PPC day sixty: the nest

Sometimes I realize that just because my priorities align with the adult world of how things should be done or what they are fore doesn't mean Truman has ideas that are any less valid or important.

This helps me create peace b looking at the effect of choices as they affect the whole family not just one member.

What am I really talking about?

Our second night with Keen Truman I got up to potty and gave Truman the task of holding the boppy.

When I returned he had claimed it as his nest and had no intention of giving it back ever.

Thinking its use value was so much more important to me than to him I took it back.

Screaming. Tears. Negotiations.

I finally just asked Joe to take him downstairs because Keen was waking up. Then as they headed downstairs I changed.

I grew suddenly and beautifully as a mother of two.

I realized that my need for the boppy in the short period of time Truman would be awake paled in comparison for his huge desire for it and the over arching need for peace as a family.

They came back up; I gave it to him; and know what happened?

Truman gave it back.

It seemed he had grow in the same way. We grew together as a family.

Then we built him a nest where he slept.

And then there were two

Keen Victor * 3-13-11 * 7 pounds 10 ounces * 4:42 a.m.

Two boys. 2 boys. TWO boys. =)

Oh the adventures to be. The peace to discover. The love that has already emerged.

What I have learned from this winter

It wasn't the coldest winter and it doesn't seem to be the longest but it was the snowiest since I moved here. And I had a KID.

Well, I had a kid the two previous winters, but he was small enough that the craving for outside time, the absolute NEED to go outside, was not strong enough to drive either of us crazy.

It was this year.

And what was our backyard full of right out of the gate? Snow. So much snow that if he stepped on it he would sink to his waist or more.

Lots of snow + pregnant mom = not a lot of outside time this winter.

And now that it is almost spring we, and everyone else in the state, are crazy.

I thought I was just antsy for the baby to arrive but I realized yesterday that while I know a lot of people expecting babies right now I know far more who aren't who are just as antsy. We want melt, we want green, we want warmth and the ability to step in our backyards without sinking to our knees.

And we will get it.

No one knows when but we will get it. And the baby, too.

So here is what I have learned for next winter:

• I need to take more time to appreciate winter for what it is. To enjoy indoor activities, hot cocoa, tea or cider, to venture out bundled up and just embrace the cold. We did fairly well this year, except the going out part. I picked up knitting and crafting, made hot meals, warm drinks and let myself pause in wonder at the magic of snow in different temperatures, hoar frost and the soft warm snowflakes of the last few days. I even towed Truman around the block a few times on his sled up until a few months ago. But next year I want to head into winter with this in mind and really focus on loving the season.
• I want to celebrate more holidays headed into the winter and during it, building more light and joy into the season. Waldorf has been introducing me to all kinds of ways to celebrate the season that I hadn't thought of and showing me how to make meaning out of celebrations I never paid much attention to because they seemed commercial before.
• I want to go out almost every day into the cold world and feel the renewal of fresh air.

I am all about goals I can actually accomplish so that is all for now.

I am going to tag all of these posts about embracing life "in pursuit of happiness." Some of them will overlap positive parenting posts, but will mainly focus on other life things approached mindfully with reverence to their state.

In other words, appreciating winter and my dirty house.

PPC day forty five: Respecting fixations

There isn't an adult I know that doesn't have at least one fixation. Something they are obsessed with or hate. It's a normal part of personhood to have likes and dislikes and things we just have to do a certain way.

I am obsessed with packing. I love getting everything together just right, deciding where things should go and knowing that everything is where it is supposed to be. I don't like wasted space.

Does this drive my husband nuts? Uh, yeah.

But he lets me pack.

He has his own strange things and I have learned in five years of marriage to respect those.

So why is it so hard to accept the fixations of toddlers?

It's so easy to dismiss what they want to do because it doesn't seem important to us.

But that doesn't make it any less important to them.

We've been lazy about bedtime recently. Sleep is about to change and motivation to get everything in order is waning. Joe has been sick and we are all just focused on sleeping as much as we can when we can.

It's working well.

But this led to Truman wanting to sleep on the couch last night. He happily snuggled in and let us turn out the light.

At some point he started crying and Joe went downstairs to see what was wrong. Apparently he had been trying to find a certain Word World and couldn't find it.

In a tired haze he came to bed and slept. He cried several times in the night. I was not my best at these moments and told him everything was fine then shushed him.

I will have to work on that.

Anyway, in the morning he was still obsessed with the Word World. The problem? We had all the Word Worlds, yet he still thought something was missing.

He was crying a bit and very upset and we kept asking him what he wanted. He kept answering the same way: "I want one."

After asking him which one and giving him suggestions, asking for different words, etc., nothing had changed.

I knew what was going on here. His mind gets stuck in a feedback loop. He was frustrated about last night and not seeing that the situation had changed. He just remembered how he felt then and couldn't get past those feelings enough to decide what to do next.

In the past I have just left him there to calm down until he can tell me what he wants. After all, I don't have all day to sit and listen to him repeat the same phrase that I can't understand as both of us get more upset ... uh ... right?

Well, once I started looking at this as a fixation he just couldn't get passed I realized what he needed was to be guided. I hugged him and talked about last night and then showed him that all the Word Worlds were there. He thought and looked and then smiled and grabbed the one he wanted.

PPC day thirty six: Rules

In the last several weeks Truman has been very receptive to following rules if we explain why he needs to follow them. This is huge because previously he couldn't accept arbitrary rules.

Natural consequences are easy for him to understand. He ate hot food once as a baby and to this day won't touch food that is more than lukewarm. He knows to stay a safe distance from fires and not to jump from too high from instinct.

But, "you need to stay with me in a store," or "you need to sit in a restaurant?" Not so much.

Why? There is no motivation. He doesn't want to do those things and every part of his body is screaming to do other things. To climb, to look, to touch, to learn.

And following a rule requires quieting internal desires for external reasons. It is really quite sophisticated work.

I've been using a lot of communication to give him reasons to want to do those things. At first a lot of those reasons were what I call bribes. Now, I am not saying it's wrong to offer rewards or remind a child that it is only after work that we can play, it's just that to me, semantically, these are all bribes.

So at first as we approached a situation in which I knew it was difficult for him to follow rules, I would talk about it heading in. This usually involves stores. We would run over what we needed to do and how I expected him to act.

Then I would usually offer a bribe. But bribing my son doesn't work well because he assumes the bribe will happen no matter what. I have tried being tough on the follow through, but it's just not worth it. I would rather go without the bribe.

So I cut out the bribes and it worked well, depending on the day. If he was in a place where he wanted to follow rules he was happy, if not, well ...

Then I discovered the power of positive communication of telling him how I knew he was capable of acting instead of how I wanted him to act.

Game changer.

He is so much more receptive now than he was before. I also added in why and that was really what has made the biggest difference.

We now talk a lot about how when he stays with me in a store it is helpful to me and when he runs away I get frustrated or scared. And he gets that. He is sympathetic to me and wants to help.

Instead of making these rules about control and what I expect him to do I've reshaped them to be about relating to one another. They are about what he can do and how he can help, which motivates him.

Rules become more about the relationship we have as a family and how we can treat each other with respect than anything arbitrary.

The obnoxious onlooker in my mind is telling me I am one of those parents that is a softie. I will be pushed around and he won't have structure. But that isn't what this is about. Nothing about explaining a rule in a way that makes it about respect is soft. There will rules in his life, but each one should have an explanation.

That's not soft, it's peaceful.

PPC day thirty five: We parent differently but united

I think it's weird that there are certain statements Truman accepts from my mouth but argues with Joe about. It works the other way, too.

He doesn't accept physical restraint from me because he knows I can't follow through. He knows he can get away from me, so taking a minute in public doesn't work. It's all kicking and screaming and escaping.

But daddy can take him to the bathroom, talk with him for a few moments and he's fine.

I am lucky to spend so much time with my son. I know him on an intimate intuitive level, so when he's tired and can't communicate what he needs, I know what it is. I can respond appropriately to weird sounds or looks.

But daddy has a harder time because he's not a mind reader (and no one expects him to be).

Today we went out to brunch and Truman did not want to sit and eat. He hasn't been very hungry lately and so sitting while not eating was even less appealing. But daddy took him to a quiet place, talked with him, and they returned. He sat calmly for quite sometime.

When he came back he told me "daddy ang at me" (which means yell). I knew that Joe had not yelled at him, but I also knew that to him it felt like yelling because it had the effect of making him feel yelled at.

So I talked to him about it. I am trying to help him develop his internal voice that says he is loved even if someone yells at him. So I asked him why daddy talked to him that way and reminded him. I told him we loved him and that we were eating and needed him to stay at the table while we eat.

I chose my words carefully. And Joe and I talked about it right after in front of him. I told Joe I am with him and I want Truman to know that we are on the same side of things, but that I also feel I need to comfort him if he is scared or hurt.

Joe does the same thing when I get frustrated with Truman and yell.

I think there is value in parenting differently but it is important to keep the transparency that we are united. Daddy may do one thing and mommy may do another but the rule is the same.

PPC day thirty three: p.s.

Also, even though I am running out of clothes that fit I am going to try to look cute.



Because you know, it just makes me feel happier.

And look I got Truman dressed, in a new shirt, easily!

PPC day thirty three: Hope and change

That closet was clean last week. It has been clean for months. It was one of my first organization projects in a long line of things to organize our life from chaos as a family of three to order as a family of four.

I know this isn't going to be solved in 9 months, but I was making good progress.

I spent all last weekend cleaning the office area in which this closet is located. The floor was clean. Toys were in bags to be put where they belong and I felt good.

But I didn't quite get all of the toys away and days later the floor was already covered in this and that. Then he destroyed that closet. The closet where I keep my photography equipment, props, knitting, computer stuff, frames — the things he is not supposed to play with.

This wasn't as much of a problem when the closet closed, but it broke a few months ago and we haven't decided on a fix.

What is really most frustrating about this is that I really, really want to keep cleaning. There are a million messes I want to fix right now but I am so tired. I have a cold, I was up for several hours in the night last night and Truman woke up early. I just don't have the capacity to clean or control the way I feel about this closet right now.

So I feel frustrated. Really, really frustrated that he couldn't just leave it alone despite constant pleas.

I also feel powerless because what has worked in the past (having him take a minute in his room until he calms down and gain control of his emotions and body) is something I just can't do right now. He's big and hard to carry all the way up stairs to his room.

So I feel trapped.

I could keep wallowing in these feelings, try to keep pushing him away so I can have a minute to come out of my fog of frustration, but that isn't working.

I think maybe I had a romantic view of parenting before I was in it where I assumed that in moments like these a knight in shinning armor would come and save me. I know several knights who would love to if they were closer.

But sometimes I just have to face the fact that this is our life, this is my child and whatever life I want to live I have to create here. Sitting around feeling frustrated won't help.

So, instead of watching the clock until Joe gets home, we are switching it up. We're going out. A change of setting will change the pace for both of us and we'll move on.

I know his mess won't look as terrible when I return and I am sure that picture will be cuter in a few hours when the memory of him throwing rainbow colored flash cards around my once clean room yelling "sparklies!" is not so fresh.

I am sure, later, this will be much cuter. And in the very least we will stop making messes while we are not here.

PPC day thirty one: Don't fight battles you can't win

Truman wants to play with food coloring on the couch. On. The. Couch.

Not happening.

I told him he could play with it in the shower where it could be cleaned but he didn't like that idea.

He is now throwing a tantrum about it.

There was a time I would let this make me angry and frustrated, but I won't. It's a battle I can't win.

I can only hope to give him to the tools to understand why he can't do it and move forward.

p.s. File the food coloring under the light bright category of potential awesomeness gone horribly wrong. I bought it for crafts and it has become a constant attraction and now potential mess of doom.

PPC day twenty four: If at first you don't succeed ...

... try, try again, right?

I hear a chorus of children saying that in my head as I write this, yet as a parent it can be hard to remember to try things that are hard again with your child.

Today I had some errands to do in Milaca, so we met up with Joe for breakfast and then he watched Truman while I went to the post office.

Taking a two-year-old out to eat is not easy, but today instead of focusing on that in my mind, I focused on ways to make it easier for him.

He was excited for a placemat and crayons, but after we sat and ordered he grew restless and started climbing on the table to reach a line of Valentine's Day decorations.

I told him not to touch the decorations because they might fall, but instead of stopping or just continuing he explained what he was doing.

He was building a hill.

So, I suggested we build a hill with his placemat, which turned into a house. A few YMCA cards, crayon "food" and napkin wrapper car later and we had a whole pretend land in which to play until the food came.

There you have it: he's growing up. It used to be so hard to keep him entertained in restaurants, but we tried again and it was different.

After I went to the post office I had a crazy idea to take him to Milaca Unclaimed Freight to get supplies to make valentines.

That doesn't sound like the worst idea until you consider that the store is a warehouse full of stuff purchased from abandon freight and being resold at discount. It's a toddler's dream. It's big and interesting and overwhelming.

It's kind of like parent-of-toddler purgatory.

Or, it was.

Today he was too big to sit in the cart, but rode on the front and walked. I had no idea how well this would go. My son has been one of those kids that embraces the world, bolting away from me since he was quite small. So I have grown to fear shopping with him, especially in big places full of interesting unknown things.

But today he stayed near me. He looked at things but put them back and even wanted to fix things that were out of place. He didn't protest when I told him he couldn't have a remote controlled car, but offered him something he could have instead.

Eventually he did get overstimulated and wanted to grab things I asked him not to, but the entire trip was so dramatically different than it had ever been all because he is older and capable of controlling his desire to touch things.

All because of the work all of us have been putting into help him gain control over his own actions and decisions.

I also tried something different before we went in, inspired, again, by Meredith's blog, I talked to him about what we were going to do in positive terms. I usually talk to him about something before we do it, but realize I may use more negative statements than positive.

I might say: "I need you to be careful not to touch things," whereas I could be saying, "I know you are capable of not touching things."

Just semantics to adults, but it can carry so much more weight for toddlers and I wanted to try it out.

Today I said we were going into the store and we would go potty because I knew he could and it would be best to do it before we shopped. And he agreed.

And what do you know? He did. I don't know if it was the talk before hand or the consequence from the day before sinking in, but I am happy that he is thinking about the choice to pee more now.

Then I reminded him why we were there, to get Valentine's Day supplies, so that we wouldn't get too distracted by the big warehouse of whozits and whatzits (which, frankly, is an internal monologue I run for myself in these situations).

And while we did browse many other things and I did let him touch and explore, while explaining, it worked.

When we came home, we even started some of the valentines.

It was a big day, but it was a good day. So many other days like it have not gone as well in the past. But today, like all others, was a new day — a new chance to learn, a new chance to grow, a new chance to try something we've done before again.

PPC day twenty three: Consequences

Here's the thing about consequences: they are not fun to enforce. But that doesn't mean I can just avoid teaching my son things because it's hard.

Not that you would expect me to, right?

On the other hand, I strive not to be an authoritarian parent, based on instinct and research I have done.

Most recently Nurture Shock taught me that according to studies most teens lie. Now, Truman is no teen, but he will be someday and the foundation of our relationship is being mapped out now.

So, what makes teens lie less? Teens who feel their parents set rules, but are willing to bend the rules under some circumstances are least likely to lie. If they feel they can negotiate, then they will try, instead of lying out-right.

The parenting I am trying to practice involves both set and malleable rules. Of course this makes deciding what is set and what is malleable hard.

Really hard.

Anyway, I have been thinking about consequences after reading about a moment my friend Meredith had with her son.

What things will I negotiate and in which will I draw a hard line?

There is only one way to find out: trail and error.

Today we went to the Maple Maze (a big indoor climbing structure). When we got there Truman did not want to go potty. I told him that was fine, but he needed to tell me when he did have to go and I would help him.

I should pause here to say that I have already tried drawing the hard line with pottying. But here is the thing, you can't make someone who doesn't want to pee pee. You can try to trick them into peeing while running water (30% efficacy), but you can't actually force them to pee.

I think some kids can be "forced" into peeing by being told to do so, by bribes or other explanations, but my spirited child will not pee unless he has decided to.

I have focused on trying to make sure he remembers when he has to go and this has worked somewhat well.

Anyway, a little while later he wet his pants. I told him calmly that it was okay and that we needed to go change his pants. He tried to pee, but didn't have to. While he was getting into his new pants I explained that this was his last pair of pants. He needed to go in the potty because if he went in them we would have to go.

A nice natural consequence: if you pee in your pants and don't have anymore, you have to leave.

He played for a while. I asked him if he had to go several times, then finally took him to the potty with me and asked him to try. He refused.

I reminded him that if he peed in his pants we would have to go because we didn't have any more pants. He understood. I told him to tell me when he had to go.

That boy can hold his pee for a long time, I give him credit. And he did not want to leave the maze.

Finally, hours later he came to get a drink, and once he started sipping he peed. He looked at me right away and said "ut oh!"

This was the hard part. He clearly didn't mean to pee his pants. I so wanted to just take him to the car, get more pants and come back. I so wanted to carry 5 pairs of pants so he wouldn't have to feel like he made a mistake and now he couldn't play.

I felt bad for him.

But, I also want a child who understands consequences and will take the time to pee in the potty so he doesn't wet his pants.

I want him to know that when I layout a clear set of rules to which he agrees that there will be consequences and to learn to foresee consequences for himself.

So we left. I think he thought we were getting the pants to bring back inside. He was upset when he realized we were leaving.

That part was hard.

What was good: for once he did not want to be in wet pants. He wanted to change his pants. This is a huge change from even last month. In the past few weeks he has gone from not caring that his clothes are wet or dirty, to wanting to change his pants and wash his shirt.

(Yes, shirt. He wears one shirt, but at least he wants to wash it now).

I hope that this consequence helps him learn to think ahead. I hope it helps him see why he should try to pee when I take him. I hope it helps him see consequences I haven't even outlined for him.

Afterward I explained why I take him potty when he doesn't have to go. That I want to offer him a chance so that he doesn't forget.