Cut It OFF

We love some Christmas lights around here.  Love.  It's the highlight of the evening to walk three houses down the street to gawk at the especially well-lit yard.  We are also trying out a new motivation tactic:  the Energy Drain technique, a la Love & Logic.  So basically, less desireable behaviors drain the energy out of parents for doing nice, fun things, requiring more good deeds to replace the energy. 

This particular brand of manipulation has been working well.  I rode that train all the way through playroom clean-up, room clean-up and putting laundry away.  Putting books on the bookshelf proved to be too much for one three year old.  Too.Much.  When delivered the news that only the little sister got to go see lights, The Regulator lost.his.mind.  Screaming.  Screeching.  Tears.  Topped with the shriek of, "Cut it off, Mommy!"

The intended meaning is either, "Cut it out, Mommy." OR a version of when I tell him that I'm going to put off an injured body part when he's being especially dramatic.  Either way, it's one of those moments where my frustration and anger turned on a dime. 

Sh*tty Saturdays

I mean this literally--not in an "oh-we-had-a-bad-weekend" kind of way.  I mean it in a way that suggests my 3-year old has shat in his pants the past two Saturdays and I've been awoken by a startled and panicked husband asking for help and a bedraggled, wet, stinky child in the shower.

Last week he chose to poo in his pants on the back patio.
This week?  He chose to crap his pants during a diligent nap protest.

Both times this led to legs smeared with poo, a bleached tub and child slightly proud to tell of his shit-ventures.

We had to nip this in the bud.  Last week, we talked.  This week?  We had to take action. All day, Ell had looked forward to seeing Glam and Pop, especially since this meant going to a restaurant.  Unfortunately, as we explained, we could not trust Ell to actually use the facilities and not sh*t his pants in public.  This meant Mommy & Brook-Brook got to visit OTB with Glammy & Poppy while Ell and Daddy stayed behind.  With the first explanation, the consequence was accepted.  The truth set in as we walked out the door and the composure melted.  I'm hoping this consequence sticks in his head, that missing out on Tickle Poppy (what Ell has taken to calling my dad) & Glammy AND eating at a restaurant is enough to remind him that pooping in his pants is not a good way to spend the weekend.  Time will tell.  Until then,  I'll do my best not to mention it. . .and let the consequence speak for itself.

What would you do to remedy the Sh*tty Saturday trend?

Exorcism Needed?

I generally think, as every mom does, that I have the cutest, sweetest, most handsome boy around.  Not to mention smart.  I mean really.  Look at this:

I rest my case.

Only not really, because despite repeated warnings from more seasoned moms that "three is worse than two," I refused to believe that this would happen to my sweet boy.  I was wrong.  Incredibly, totally wrong.  This weekend he in turned charmed and cursed us.  Turned whining up to a new level.  Learned to selectively ignore me.  Started yelling that he wanted something "now."  Jumping on his bed after being put in bed for the night.  Beating on the wall after his father had reminded him to go to bed not once, but twice.  Refused to pick up his toys, only to then have a complete meltdown when said toys were removed from his bed because they were Mommy's now.  We've put him in his room more the past two weeks to gain his self-control than in his whole life.  Had to place the toilet paper on the high shelf in the guest/kid bath because of excessive TP abuse (Beware if you are visiting to think ahead before sitting).  Blue Blank (treasured blanket made by my aunt) moved to Mommy's room because it was just too much for him to pick up.

Chris looked at me tonight and said, "So he's just testing his boundaries, right?"  I'm wondering if I had answered no, if he might have asked to give him away to the highest bidder.  So the whole "It Gets Better" isn't just a campaign for LGBT teens--it's for parents of three year olds, too, right?