Potty Training – Does it take longer for a child with Down Syndrome?
My son Cade is 3 1/2 years old and I’m starting to tackle potty training. Maybe I should have started earlier, but I was in uncharted waters. He’s a boy (I had had two girls previously), and he has Down Syndrome.So, why didn’t I start earlier? I think the question wasn’t whether he was ready. Rather, it was whether I was ready. I was gunshy.
I had read in a book that it could take YEARS! How was I going to handle this?
Since that time, I’ve received words of encouragement and heard stories about potty training that weren’t too far from the experiences of training a typical child to go to the potty. I know, however, it really depends on the individual child. And, whether it takes three days or three years, I’m there.
So, this weekend I’m armed with a book from our daycare. I plan to take Cade to the potty as much as possible, make it fun and see how he reacts. The next part is up to him.
Do any of you have some positive experiences with potty training boys? Any miracles? 
I would love to hear from you … just in case this venture goes south … but not in the potty. — Linda Lynn
How do your kids get to school?
My daughter really, really, really (really!) wants to ride a school bus to school.
We don’t live on the bus route, or within walking distance of school, so I drive her to kindergarten each day. I tell her she’ll ride the bus on field trips.
When I was a child, I walked with other kids to elementary school and rode the bus to middle school. Both options scare me for my child. I worry — maybe unreasonably — about accidents, strangers, mad dogs and dew-soaked shoes. So for now, I’m happy to drive.
The Associated Press gives some tips for parents wondering when their children are “ready” to walk to school without their parents. Here they are:
—Know your child. Some 10-year-olds are mature enough to handle the responsibility that goes with independence. Others are not.
—Consider the route. Are there major streets to cross? Will the child be walking or biking alone or with schoolmates?
—Set clear rules, such as whether your child must come straight home from school.
—Talk with other parents in your neighborhood about having kids walk or bike to school together. There is safety in numbers.
Do you have any suggestions? Comment here or e-mail me at ssimpson@oklahoman.com
Susan Simpson
Safety first
Wednesday’s accident involving a 23-month-old toddler who died in
Before my son was born, I would glance at those type of stories and continue reading without thinking twice about what I had read.
Now, stories about the death of babies and toddlers really tie my stomach in knots. I wonder how I would react, what I would do if I were that situation or what I could do to prevent a similar situation.
After reading about Wednesday’s accident in
What are other simple and effective ways a home could be child-proofed? Are there preventative measures that must be done, but may not be easily remembered?
Leave a comment below to share with others.
— Brian Sargent
Gameday with a toddler?
Is this something that is possible? Without me losing my hair or sanity?
I have tickets to OU’s season-opener this Saturday. First, I am a bit suprised that you have to buy a full-price ticket for a 2-year-old but according to the athletic office “any human being going into the stadium needs a ticket. Even infants.”
Yeah, I guess infants would fall into the “human being” category, although I couldn’t imagine bringing one to a game. But a toddler, well, that may or may not be worse.
I hope I’m not crazy to try this, but maybe he’ll have a blast and we’ll have an extra activity to add to our fall calendar. Has anyone tried it? If so, give me the lowdown and some good tips if you have them.
~Erica Smith
esmith@oklahoman.com
What’s in a (teacher’s) name?
When my daughter was in pre-K last year, I always wondered if I should call her teacher by her first name or address her the same as students do. I’m faced with the same dilemma this year. I’d prefer first names. After all, we’re all adults. Any thoughts, especially from teachers?–Christy Watson
Are you afraid of the dark?
When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark — even if I was in my house.
Apparently, that fear has been passed to my 4-year-son, Cody.
During the past two months, Cody and I have gone to sleepovers at each of my two sister’s houses. Both times, Cody has awoken during the middle of night and told me, “Daddy, I’m scared.”
After a few minutes of sleeping in the same room with him, Cody falls asleep.
When Cody spends the night in my house, he sleeps soundly and for a full eight hours.
Do other parents have advice for me to help Cody with this fear?
I’d love to hear from you.
— Brian Sargent
School fundraisers
The school year was only a week old when I saw it: the dreaded packet that meant it was time to start hawking gift wrap, candies, candles and other expensive trinkets all to benefit my daughter’s school. Then yesterday, I received an email from a good friend with pictures attached. Surely they were of her cute kids. I was partially right. It was two pictures of her adorable son, fresh from his third day of kindergarten asking for people to go online and buy from his school fundraiser. His class can get an ice cream party if everybody participates and he wants to win a flying stuffed pig. Honestly, the approach is very parent friendly. Go online, click on what you want to buy, enter the student’s ID number and voila! No door knocking for kids or parents. No going desk-to-desk at work and trying to collect money. Personally, I prefer the approach I found tucked into my daughter’s fundraiser envelope, which invited parents to simply write a check to the school. Still, I’ll no doubt pass around the fundraising catalog and buy from the other kids we know. After all, it’s for a worthy cause. But I hope my daughter doesn’t win a flying stuffed pig. — Christy Watson
Alone is not lonely
I was reading an article today by a contributor to O Magazine. The story was about “mid-wife” crisis, the meaning of marriage and how spousal roles have changed.
It was all very interesting, even controversial. But here’s the sentence that stuck out most: “Our mothers feared being left alone. We crave time alone. Alone time is the new heroin.”
Well, neither the old or new me wants heroin. But time alone, that would be priceless. And by time alone, I don’t mean the hour I sneak to the gym, or the trip alone to the grocery store (although that is lovely.)
I mean time alone doing nothing — or anything I please. No guilt about cleaning the house, no rush to get started on Christmas shopping (we only have 138 days left, folks!) I crave time to watch bad soap operas, take a leisurely nap, or finish the novel I’ve struggled to complete for weeks now.
I didn’t appreciate these luxuries when I was single. The goal was to NOT be alone, back then.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to be single. Just by myself for a few blissful hours.
— Susan Simpson
School’s in ….. but I’m still stuck in summer
Finally, it’s Friday. Edmond schools started classes Wednesday, and many of you might feel like I have since the kids started back to school … This … has … been …. a … long … week.
At the beginning of summer I signed the kids up for a three-week summer camp, and it helped to keep them on a regular sleep schedule. But when that ended, it all went downhill from there.
So, it’s been a little difficult to get back into the routine. Getting the kids up in the mornings isn’t really the problem. It’s getting them to bed and keeping them in bed.
Let me know if you have any tips that helped your family get back to the school schedule. We have several weeks to go before summer break comes again! So any shared solutions might help the school year go more smoothly. — Linda Lynn
Lessons for Mom on first day of preschool
My youngest child started preschool yesterday, and Mom was the one who learned the lesson. The drop-off was traumatic, even though he moved from one room up to the next — the oldest — in the same daycare center that he has attended all year.
But I made a big deal about it, just like I did when my older two started preschool. Then, I was a stay-at-home mom so the transition from home to school seemed big. Now, I’m a working mom, and the transition in childcare to pre-K simply means changing rooms and teachers with all your friends.
But wherever life takes you, I still believe preschool is a big deal, an exciting time, a time that marks the formal start of what hopefully will be a lifelong desire to learn. It’s monumental, major, a milestone, amazing and all that. The first day of preschool deserves special attention, a photograph and as much fuss as my older two got for the start of their elementary school grades this week.
I learned yesterday that piling on all those hopes and dreams is too much pressure for a 4-year-old.
He cried and cried and hugged and hugged me during drop-off as he felt the full weight of all that pressure and those expectations. While he usually marches in smiling, greets his friends and disappears with them onto the playground, on the drive to school that “first” day he hid himself underneath his favorite green blanket, known affectionately as “Green.”
On the long prison walk down the hall to his new classroom, he sucked his thumb – usually an act reserved only for naps and bedtime – clutching “Green” as if it were his only friend.
He had been a little unsettled all week.
If I had just gotten him up and said “Yea! You’re starting preschool today!” he would have been fine as I took a picture in his class.
Instead his first-day-of-preschool picture in the classroom doorway shows him holding onto “Green” for dear life, wadded up in his arms as he hid his worried face partially behind it. Getting ready to launch his lifetime love of learning.
By the time I picked him up, he was smiling and having a great time as he took me on a tour of his classroom and chatted about his friends and about what he did that day. He skipped into his classroom today with a smile and a quick hug.
The pressure is off – preschool is back to being just a normal part of everyday life.
Yesterday’s milestone, I realized, only belonged to me as my youngest one grows up.
~ Lillie-Beth Brinkman
