Friday, February 1, 2013

Nothing Is Sacred

We don't give kids enough credit. They are sneaky little bastards; programmed for survival from Day 1.

To anyone who has ever said, "the most wonderful thing about children is that they don't lie," I daughter.

For the past three months or so, we've had the training potty prominently displayed, but never used - much like a bad tchotchke - in our bathroom. We have these lofty hopes that one day The Bean will suddenly decide to start using the potty and we can all leave our diaper-changing days behind.

So far her favorite thing to do is take her stuffed animals for boat rides in the removable bucket of the potty. Potty training? Nailed it.

Before her bath each night we go through the same routine:

Me:  Do you want to go potty before we have a bath?

Bean: No!

Me: If you have to go pee-pees, we need to go in the potty - not the bathtub, right?

Bean: [pointing at the tub] No pee-pees. [Does a little wriggly dance.]

Me: Do you have to go potty?

Bean: [immediately stops dancing] NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Then we start the bath; which is, by far, her favorite part of the day. 

At some point in the bath, she'll stop all the bouncing around and singing (a sign that things are about to get serious) and she will stare intently at a spot on the wall. 10 seconds later she suspiciously starts singing, "pee-pee, pee-pee, pee-pee!"

Me: Did you just go potty in the bathtub!?!?!

Bean: [stares directly into my soul...hesitates...]...noooo...

Then she'll pick up a cup and start drinking the piss-filled bathwater.


So The Bean lies, but the truly aggravating part is she's not consistent about it.

The other night, The D-Zo clan was cuddled up in bed watching the original Muppet movie as a nighttime treat.

Now, we had Ethiopian food for dinner that night and so what happened next shouldn't have come as a surprise, but...well..."toooooooot."

It just slipped out! 

And before I could blame the intrusive noise on my daughter (one of the perks I was told about this whole parenthood gig), she stands up, points at me and says, "Mama toot toot."

Sold out by a one-and-a-half year old.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

How To Lose a Binky in Ten Seconds (or Less)

Roughly 1 hour and 23 minutes into our careers as parents, it became clear Mr. D-Zo and I were in the "we can just let that slide, right?" camp - quickly abandoning our previous positions in the "we should establish some baseline expectations and try to raise our child properly" camp.

The first breach happened when The Bean was rolled into the hospital room for her first feeding and had a pacifier sticking out of her mouth.

Oh no you didn't! I was NOT, NO WAY, NO HOW going to raise a child who was a binky user.

But then there was all that loud, annoying, inconvenient crying and it happened every time we took the pacifier out of her mouth. And, oh! Praise be to the Lord! How quickly the noises stopped when you shoved it back in.

So the pacifier stayed and we became those parents.

Then The Bean started getting teeth.

Not wanting to be the parents of Piranha Girl, we decided pacifier limitations were in order.

The pacifier was only allowed at bedtime.

And nap time.

And when The Bean was starting to get cranky.

Then we realized toddlers are always cranky. So a pacifier intervention was needed, but Mr. D-Zo and I weren't quite ready.

Me: I asked nicely, but The Bean didn't seem interested in going to bed without the binky.

Mr. D-Zo: I know! I tried to take it, but she started crying. She stopped when I gave it back.

Me: Thank goodness you held your's like she doesn't even care that we're trying to ensure she doesn't have warped redneck teeth, while also maintaining a healthy sleep schedule for ourselves.

Mr. D-Zo: Did you give her a bottle?

Me: Yeah, but she started yelling for the binky when she was done...this is impossible. Let's just reason with her when she's 25.

Mr. D-Zo: Deal.

We were out of ideas.

And just when it looked like the pacifier was to remain a permanent member of the family, fate and a mother's conniving ingenuity saved the day.

You see, Piranha Girl's The Bean's teeth had become quite sharp and one day she bit the nipple clean off.

I'll admit, my first thought was to panic and run out to get a replacement pacifier STAT. But The Bean is my daughter through and through and immediately knew SHE had broken the binky and was besides herself with guilt. I seized the opportunity for us to part ways with her stinky, ratty, teeth derailing best friend.

Guilt and shame: helping parents win for 250,000 years and counting.