The Dictator and I do not like traffic. We drive. A lot. Our typical week usually logs over 400 miles on the odometer and of those 400+ miles, at least 395 of them are used up just by us driving around together.
In an effort to keep the Dictator amused in the car, I taught her a game my mother showed me when I was little. Traffic light magic!
When you roll up to a red light, using the powers of your mind and your index finger like a wand, you can magically turn the light green if you wish hard enough. The Dictator, who albeit very clever, is also still only 2, and totally believes I have magical traffic powers. We stop at a red light, I watch the opposite light until it starts changing to yellow and then "concentrate on the light and wish it green!" The Dictator has been fascinated with my skills, and it's been a fabulous way to pass time in the car. Until today.....
We approach a red light
The Dictator: "Momma! The light is red! Quick! I will wish it green!"
I never said *she* had traffic powers!
The light is nowhere close to turning green. It just turned red. Stupid, effing traffic light. The Dictator is going to freak out any second!
The Dictator: "Momma! I'm concentrating! Why isn't the light turning green?"
She's in the backseat in her carseat grunting and straining to 'concentrate' now. Her face is actually getting quite red.
The Dictator: "MOMMA!!! The light is still red! My magic powers are broken! Oh no!!"
Now the Dictator is starting to cry. I feel like an ass, since I started this game with her. Although, I reiterate...I never told her SHE had magic powers!
The Dictator: "Momma! You do it! We need to go! I will help you concentrate!"
The Dictator is still grunting, groaning and now resembles a ripe tomato.
Thankfully, the light is now getting ready to turn green. Whew.
Me: "Say it with me....Green, green, green light!" The Dictator repeats it with me.
Magic! The light turns green!
The Dictator: "Momma! You did it! I helped you! When I get bigger, I can do it all by myself too, right?"
Me: "Yes!! Of course you can!" Hurray! She gave me an out on this one! This is actually going to end well!
The Dictator: "Fuck traffic. Let's go! Oh....and I think when I concentrated a little poop came out."
Oh dear...........
Friday, June 29, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sleep
The Dictator does not sleep. I don't mean she's a bad sleeper, or that she has a hard time falling asleep.
I mean it exactly the way it sounds. Never have I seen a child sleep less than she does.
Napping?? What's that? The Dictator views nap time as a waste of time. Going to sleep before 11pm? Why would you do that? The best t.v. is on in the evening after all! Sleeping in after 7a? The SUN is up! We should be too!
First thing in the morning, I pull myself out of bed nearly crying with exhaustion.
The always bubbly little Dictator looks at me with a big smile and says:
"Good job Momma!! You did it! You woke up!"
Every.single.day.
Although I can smile about this later in the day, at the butt crack of dawn this is not the first phrase I want to hear.
Other parents often lament to me about how their children "Only nap for 1 hour a day" or "Little Suzie doesn't go to bed before 9pm and it's so tough". I honestly want to punch those parents right in the head.
When I tell people about my daughters sleep problems, I frequently get asked "Do you do activities to try to wear her out?" or "Have you given her melatonin". Apparently, these are the only things you need to do to get your child to sleep. The first of these questions is so idiotic that I can usually barely muster a response. No, I've never thought of doing things with my child to make her tired! What a novel idea! You mean she won't get tired sitting around all day?? Who knew! Seriously??????! The Dictator is currently in 7 activities. On a typical day we leave our house at 9:30a and return somewhere around 5pm. During that time we are swimming, dancing, doing gymnastics, playing at the park, and whatever activity I can think of that may have some small shred of hope of tiring her out (meaning she'll go to bed before 10p). As far as Melatonin? Melatonin can kiss my tired ass. The Dictator seems to GAIN energy from Melatonin. On the couple occasions we have tried, her super powers prevailed and she stayed up PAST her usual bedtime. The Dictator is a mutant. I clearly need to start researching how to raise an X-Man, because the Dictator simply can't be human.
Although, I have to admit, the Dictator does not get crabby when tired. In fact, she shows no signs of fatigue at all! Try being perky for 18+ hours a day! I don't know how the hell she does it! I can't do it. I stop being perky somewhere around 1pm. If I make it that long.
Typically, the Dictators merry little day continues on (and on and on and on) until a happy little Dictator eventually passes out. I don't mean that in the literal sense either. I mean, when my daughter 'goes to sleep' she really does pass out. Her little body eventually just gives out on her. She usually falls asleep still talking, and she continues to talk in her sleep.
Try years of sleep exhaustion. There's a reason that it's used as a form of torture. It really is! I feel like I'm wearing a bag over my head 90% of the time. I function in slow motion these days. Speak slowly to me and loudly. Repeat yourself frequently. Please be kind if I look at you with a blank stare and ask you to repeat yourself 10+ times. I am listening to you. If you really need my attention immediately, just tell me that you need to go potty. I seem to snap to attention every time that phrase is uttered around me!
I mean it exactly the way it sounds. Never have I seen a child sleep less than she does.
Napping?? What's that? The Dictator views nap time as a waste of time. Going to sleep before 11pm? Why would you do that? The best t.v. is on in the evening after all! Sleeping in after 7a? The SUN is up! We should be too!
First thing in the morning, I pull myself out of bed nearly crying with exhaustion.
The always bubbly little Dictator looks at me with a big smile and says:
"Good job Momma!! You did it! You woke up!"
Every.single.day.
Although I can smile about this later in the day, at the butt crack of dawn this is not the first phrase I want to hear.
Other parents often lament to me about how their children "Only nap for 1 hour a day" or "Little Suzie doesn't go to bed before 9pm and it's so tough". I honestly want to punch those parents right in the head.
When I tell people about my daughters sleep problems, I frequently get asked "Do you do activities to try to wear her out?" or "Have you given her melatonin". Apparently, these are the only things you need to do to get your child to sleep. The first of these questions is so idiotic that I can usually barely muster a response. No, I've never thought of doing things with my child to make her tired! What a novel idea! You mean she won't get tired sitting around all day?? Who knew! Seriously??????! The Dictator is currently in 7 activities. On a typical day we leave our house at 9:30a and return somewhere around 5pm. During that time we are swimming, dancing, doing gymnastics, playing at the park, and whatever activity I can think of that may have some small shred of hope of tiring her out (meaning she'll go to bed before 10p). As far as Melatonin? Melatonin can kiss my tired ass. The Dictator seems to GAIN energy from Melatonin. On the couple occasions we have tried, her super powers prevailed and she stayed up PAST her usual bedtime. The Dictator is a mutant. I clearly need to start researching how to raise an X-Man, because the Dictator simply can't be human.
Although, I have to admit, the Dictator does not get crabby when tired. In fact, she shows no signs of fatigue at all! Try being perky for 18+ hours a day! I don't know how the hell she does it! I can't do it. I stop being perky somewhere around 1pm. If I make it that long.
Typically, the Dictators merry little day continues on (and on and on and on) until a happy little Dictator eventually passes out. I don't mean that in the literal sense either. I mean, when my daughter 'goes to sleep' she really does pass out. Her little body eventually just gives out on her. She usually falls asleep still talking, and she continues to talk in her sleep.
Try years of sleep exhaustion. There's a reason that it's used as a form of torture. It really is! I feel like I'm wearing a bag over my head 90% of the time. I function in slow motion these days. Speak slowly to me and loudly. Repeat yourself frequently. Please be kind if I look at you with a blank stare and ask you to repeat yourself 10+ times. I am listening to you. If you really need my attention immediately, just tell me that you need to go potty. I seem to snap to attention every time that phrase is uttered around me!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The Dictator takes a dump
The Dictator is currently on a shit strike.
Potty training (which is more her training me to not go insane and kill us all in the process) has taken another striking halt.
My beautiful little daughter will gladly run to the potty, sit on it, and pee all day long. In fact, I'd say she's a bit obsessed with peeing in the potty. Why wouldn't she be? Every time she does it she gets a sticker, we turn on the bubble machine and she gets to have a dance party. Who wouldn't want that? I wish I got a prize every time I used the toilet! It's like liquid gold. The more she pumps out the more she can have. It's her own personal piggy bank and all she needs is a little water to 'flood the market'.
The Dictator, who up until a few weeks ago was on track to be 100% trained and done with diapers has since decided that "Pooping does not feel good and I will not do it again".
Trying to explain to a 2 year old that regardless of how she feels about pooping, poop will, inevitably happen, is about as easy as explaining how to build a rocket ship to my dog.
She looks at me with her little blue eyes and nods along as I tell her she needs to poop, must poop, poop WILL happen and *seems* like she's understanding everything I tell her. Then, she has to poop......
Today in the car-
The Dictator: "Momma, I have to poop!" (Tears and screaming)
We're on the third day of the poop pause and every moment is turning into agony. Imagine trying to hold it in for 3 days. Now imagine that in addition to trying to hold it in, you are also bi-polar (what 2 year old is NOT bi-polar??) and that you have only slept for a whopping total of 5 hours in 2 days. This, my friends, is a recipe for disaster.
Me: "I know. Pleeeeeeease just poop! You will feel better if you do! I promise! You can have anything you want if you poop! A pony?? Another trip to Disneyland? Your own personal amusement park in the backyard? Yes! Anything you want! Just pleeeeeeease take a giant dump and be done with it!"
I admit, this was not my best moment in parenting. Fail #1- telling her she can have anything. Yes, I've made this mistake before. She knows I'm weak. She preys on it! Fail #2- saying "giant dump". Anything related to your butt is funny to a 2 year old. Emphasizing a word or phrase related to your butt is even better. I've now stepped in the proverbial shit.
The Dictator: "I want to take a dump!"
Me: (Knowing this is going down a baaaad road, but still admitedly having to laugh when she said it) "We'll go home and poop on the potty real soon."
I'm hoping and praying that she'll forget that magical phrase and that perhaps she might just maaaaaybe actually use the toilet when we get home.
The word 'dump' was said many times while driving. The Dictator, who in a fit of mania from not sleeping, pooping or eating much (who can eat if they haven't pooped in 3 days?) is laughing like a mad woman in the backseat and saying dump again and again.
Please God, let her poop when we get home.
There was no pooping.
All morning and afternoon.
:(
We finally had to go out and get some errands done. The Dictator seems to have forgotten about needing to poop and her new favorite word for the moment. All seems to be well.....
We walk into the grocery store and get a cart. A nice employee comes over to say hi and give the Dictator a sticker. The Dictator looks right at him and announces-
"I need to take a dump!"
Craptastic. I think I've just won parent of the year. Who can compete with that bit of awesomeness?
The employee looks at me and looks at my daughter and slowly repeats back what he heard...
Employee: "Did you say you need to take a dump?"
The Dictator: "Yes!" Laughing like a crazy person because another adult has just said dump!
Employee: "Bathroom is in the back of the store"
That actually made me laugh. Well played grocery store man!
The grocery store man gives me a good glare which promptly makes me feel like a larger turd than I ever did before.
The Dictator did of course, not use the bathroom at the grocery store. She did sing a song while we looked at the potty, wash her hands and play with the hand dryer for awhile.
Eventually, I gave up. The evening was setting in and the Dictator was holding strong. How long can a person go without pooping? I need to google this......
The husband gets home. He is tired, but when he sees me he immediately seems to sense that saying "I'm tired" or "What's for dinner" will result in his untimely demise. The husband is informed of the situation. The husband, being the calm one in our family takes the Dictator to the bathroom and sits her on the toilet.
In the meantime I am sitting in the office looking up ways we can make her poop. We've already tried prune juice, extra fiber and Metamucil. The Dictator has the bowel control of an Olympic athlete. While scowering the internet for any shred of hope I can find I hear a little voice coming from the bathroom saying the most unbelievable thing.....
The Dictator: "I did it! I just took a dump!"
and she did.
"Momma, I want a pony!"
Looks like Daddy is now in charge of potty training.....and I'm never saying another word to my daughter ever, ever again.
Potty training (which is more her training me to not go insane and kill us all in the process) has taken another striking halt.
My beautiful little daughter will gladly run to the potty, sit on it, and pee all day long. In fact, I'd say she's a bit obsessed with peeing in the potty. Why wouldn't she be? Every time she does it she gets a sticker, we turn on the bubble machine and she gets to have a dance party. Who wouldn't want that? I wish I got a prize every time I used the toilet! It's like liquid gold. The more she pumps out the more she can have. It's her own personal piggy bank and all she needs is a little water to 'flood the market'.
The Dictator, who up until a few weeks ago was on track to be 100% trained and done with diapers has since decided that "Pooping does not feel good and I will not do it again".
Trying to explain to a 2 year old that regardless of how she feels about pooping, poop will, inevitably happen, is about as easy as explaining how to build a rocket ship to my dog.
She looks at me with her little blue eyes and nods along as I tell her she needs to poop, must poop, poop WILL happen and *seems* like she's understanding everything I tell her. Then, she has to poop......
Today in the car-
The Dictator: "Momma, I have to poop!" (Tears and screaming)
We're on the third day of the poop pause and every moment is turning into agony. Imagine trying to hold it in for 3 days. Now imagine that in addition to trying to hold it in, you are also bi-polar (what 2 year old is NOT bi-polar??) and that you have only slept for a whopping total of 5 hours in 2 days. This, my friends, is a recipe for disaster.
Me: "I know. Pleeeeeeease just poop! You will feel better if you do! I promise! You can have anything you want if you poop! A pony?? Another trip to Disneyland? Your own personal amusement park in the backyard? Yes! Anything you want! Just pleeeeeeease take a giant dump and be done with it!"
I admit, this was not my best moment in parenting. Fail #1- telling her she can have anything. Yes, I've made this mistake before. She knows I'm weak. She preys on it! Fail #2- saying "giant dump". Anything related to your butt is funny to a 2 year old. Emphasizing a word or phrase related to your butt is even better. I've now stepped in the proverbial shit.
The Dictator: "I want to take a dump!"
Me: (Knowing this is going down a baaaad road, but still admitedly having to laugh when she said it) "We'll go home and poop on the potty real soon."
I'm hoping and praying that she'll forget that magical phrase and that perhaps she might just maaaaaybe actually use the toilet when we get home.
The word 'dump' was said many times while driving. The Dictator, who in a fit of mania from not sleeping, pooping or eating much (who can eat if they haven't pooped in 3 days?) is laughing like a mad woman in the backseat and saying dump again and again.
Please God, let her poop when we get home.
There was no pooping.
All morning and afternoon.
:(
We finally had to go out and get some errands done. The Dictator seems to have forgotten about needing to poop and her new favorite word for the moment. All seems to be well.....
We walk into the grocery store and get a cart. A nice employee comes over to say hi and give the Dictator a sticker. The Dictator looks right at him and announces-
"I need to take a dump!"
Craptastic. I think I've just won parent of the year. Who can compete with that bit of awesomeness?
The employee looks at me and looks at my daughter and slowly repeats back what he heard...
Employee: "Did you say you need to take a dump?"
The Dictator: "Yes!" Laughing like a crazy person because another adult has just said dump!
Employee: "Bathroom is in the back of the store"
That actually made me laugh. Well played grocery store man!
The grocery store man gives me a good glare which promptly makes me feel like a larger turd than I ever did before.
The Dictator did of course, not use the bathroom at the grocery store. She did sing a song while we looked at the potty, wash her hands and play with the hand dryer for awhile.
Eventually, I gave up. The evening was setting in and the Dictator was holding strong. How long can a person go without pooping? I need to google this......
The husband gets home. He is tired, but when he sees me he immediately seems to sense that saying "I'm tired" or "What's for dinner" will result in his untimely demise. The husband is informed of the situation. The husband, being the calm one in our family takes the Dictator to the bathroom and sits her on the toilet.
In the meantime I am sitting in the office looking up ways we can make her poop. We've already tried prune juice, extra fiber and Metamucil. The Dictator has the bowel control of an Olympic athlete. While scowering the internet for any shred of hope I can find I hear a little voice coming from the bathroom saying the most unbelievable thing.....
The Dictator: "I did it! I just took a dump!"
and she did.
"Momma, I want a pony!"
Looks like Daddy is now in charge of potty training.....and I'm never saying another word to my daughter ever, ever again.
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