Friday, January 27, 2012

Poopy One & Disney is from Hell

Can somebody PLEASE tell me the fascination with POOP for a toddler? Am I the only parent who has not one but two three year olds constantly referencing POOP? For goodness gracious sake, Vivienne won't even poop in the toilet but she has no qualms with discussing it over all 13 meals she consumes a day.  When I change her diaper, she wants to "see it." When I throw the diaper in the diaper genie, she wants to know "why it's in there," and further, "if it will be ok?" She has insisted on looking at mine and giving me an analysis ( I thank her physician father for her inquiring mind) and her favorite part of seeing her brother poop is watching us wipe it.....

VV's fascination goes beyond seeing it. She likes the word itself. I like the word "pontificate." I find myself working that word into conversations all the time.  VV, she likes the word POOPY.  For example, I often find myself having little love chats with VV as she falls asleep at night and one of the things I always tell her is that she is a beautiful princess.  Her reply, "Poopy Princess."

A good friend of mine recently turned me onto a fabulous book called 1-2-3 Magic by Dr. Thomas Phelan (whip your kids into shape, check this out.  1-2-3 Magic is a theory on disciplining your children of all ages. When a child does something out of line, you give them a "1." If they continue, they get a "2." If they reach three, they take time alone or lose a toy, depending on the age and the degree of their crime.  So, we tell Vivienne, "THAT'S ONE!" Her reply, yes, you got it... "Poopy One." And although she may think that's funny, she never meanders over to Poopy Three. Rick and I worship this book. It's basically a fabulous way to get your kids to do exactly what you say and if they don't, they lose. It has to be the most controlling method known to man but God, DO WE LOVE IT. They are terrified of THREE! Three to Max and VV is like a call from telling me my credit card has been declined.

About a month ago, when we returned from our breakout first-timers all family Disney trip from Hell, I consumed a few too many glasses of wine, then proceeded to book another trip to WDW (WTF was I thinking)? I mean, it wasn't enough that the first trip nearly broke up our family... My good friend and I were texting while we were in Disney and she basically said, "Look, take it for what it is, it's not a vacation, it's entertainment for the kids. My husband never gets laid in Disney." I about snotted myself as I popped a Xanex and wrote her back, "Laid, LOL, my husband is lucky if we are still married in three days." It was at that moment I knew the importance of wine.  Furthermore, I questioned the motives of the EVIL Disney people who decided to make Magic Kingdom a "dry" park.  Goons. If they had a clue, they would let parents drink their "baba's" and it would certainly ease the pain of the $30 toy each kid wants after every single ride. (email me for specifics on how to smuggle your poison in the park... that's what Mickey and Minne sippy cups are for).....DUH

Anyway, back to poop (as I sip my wine).... Heading back from Disney trip #2, Max and VV are strapped up in their Britax's watching Nemo and Little Mermaid for the 400th time that weekend. VV asks Max if she can play with his Buzz Lightyear toy (sidebar: we have TWO of the exact same toy at home we purchased for both children and they both ignore him but in Disney Hell, they are reminded of their love and loyalty for Buzz.  At the insistence of a tantrum in public and the failure of 1-2-3 not so magic at that moment, we bought another). After a reluctant "yes" from Max, Vivienne begins playing with Buzz. Within thirty seconds,  Max says to VV, as he stares continuously at the Nemo movie and wearing his headphones, "Now VV, you better not POOP on my Buzz!"

I have given this POOP topic a lot of thought. I have found myself wondering if it's a Freudian stage or if perhaps, VV has toilet envy for Max or diaper envy for Baby Luke - the list of thoughts go on and on. That was until today... when I heard my nanny from the other room answering Vivienne and Max's inquiry as to where mommy went. Yes, you got it again, "Mommy is pooping."

And there you have it. It's not Freudian and it's not sibling toilet/diaper envy.  According to my nanny, every time the kids ask where I am, well, you know where to find me.

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