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I'm a child of God, wife to Charlie, mom to three beautiful girls, daughter to Dennis and Susan, and friend to as many as I can meet. (In that order.) Welcome to my bloggaroni. :) Follow me on Twitter: thatsmykimjay / Go to my site: www.kimjay.com

Monday, February 11, 2013

Parenting rocks...

Sweet little Peanut is going through a phase.  A phase we visited last year about this time.  This year, it is some better but it still gives me and Charlie plenty reasons for sighing and shoulder shrugging.  She is afraid of everything.  Well, no.  She's afraid of the dark, monsters, being alone - ever - in a room by herself.  She's afraid of bad dreams, static in her hair, and Reed eating people food (cause we cautioned her a little too well not to let Reed eat her food or it would hurt her.)

If any of these situations occur...she freaks out.  Like, FREAKS OUT.  Like McCauley-Culkin-Home-Alone, run through a plate glass window, slap your mother...FREAK-OUT.  It's wearing on my soul.

Every time we leave the room, "Mom!  Stay in here wiff me!"  If she needs to go to the bathroom, she dances around the house holding herself like a tiny little innocent version of Michael Jackson begging, "Please!  Somebody go to the bathroom wiff me!  I'm scared!"

People.  You all KNOW how stressed out I am.  If not, just read my Facebook and Twitter feeds.  I am a good mom.  I promise I am.  Well, okay.  At least I try.  But, I CANNOT spend my day following a little girl whom I potty trained TWO YEARS AGO to the potty all day long.  I can't.  Won't.

So I developed a plan.  (There's that Clinical Nurse Leadership (CNL) training coming out in me.)  I rounded daily, and gathered data.  And, based on the evidence, there are no monsters in my bathrooms. So, I decided to try an intervention.  My intervention is simple.

I found a decorative jar.  Because, as a former 1990's Martha Stewart happy homemaker wanna-be, it is just not becoming to have anything but clear glass decorative items in your guest bathroom.  No labels for me!  In this jar, at first, was nothing.  Then, in the kitchen, a cup of rocks.  Where Peanut can reach. I'll explain the reason in a minute.

Every time that sweet child goes to the bathroom by herself?  A rock goes in the jar.  Here's where the part about her being able to reach it comes in.  After all, if I still have to be involved every time the girl's got to pee, I've gained nothing.  So, she pees, runs to the kitchen, gets a rock, puts it in the jar, then tells the world.  My work here is done.

But, wait.  There's more!  What happens when she fills the jar?  (Or, empties the cup in the kitchen.)  A trip to Dollar Tree.  Folks, it's been a while since Moey and Brady have been little.  But, stuff is coming back to me.  Like, that I used to bribe the girls with Dollar Tree for motivation.  Let me tell you.  There's something about telling a kid they can have ANY three things they want in a store that ROCKS THEIR SOCKS OFF!  Oh, the joy for the small price of THREE BUCKS!

And, you can bet your knickers I'm riding this one until the tires are bald!