• Becca

Diapers and Donuts

DS was not a challenge until he reached his teenage years. He was a good boy. Pretty easy going in the attitude department. He had a little bit of a temper but nothing really worth writing home about.

DD1 is even keel. She's always been easy going unless the "girl" in her gets wound up and then she might spiral out of control for a minute or ten.

DD2- my oh my. Nothing even keel about that one. She has a temper like I've never seen. I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but I don't want to go toe to toe with her. When this happened, she was three. I wouldn't have gone toe to toe with her even THEN. When she has her head set on something, she's not one to let it go easily. Lots of fire in that little body. I didn't realize how much until she was almost four years old.

For all of you lovely people that can say "oh my little angel went potty right away all on her own" Or, "he's a baby genius and did it all on his own!" Well, this is my blog and this is where I will politely tell you to KICK ROCKS!

I had tried everything....I had exhausted my efforts. I had done everything short of beating that child to make her use the potty. It was quite the nightmare.

One Sunday morning I was convinced that I help the keys to the potty kingdom- DONUTS. I adore donuts. Some folks would do anything for a Klondike bar. This fat girl here will do some shady stuff for some donuts. So will DD2.

That morning I had gone to the store to purchase a beautiful arrangement of assorted donuts. Only a fellow donut lover will understand the way I salivated driving home with these beauties. I thought for sure one of these would catch her eye and make potty training a breeze. Yes- I believe in bribing my children.

Today was the day! The sun was brightly shining, the birds were chirping, the clouds were a beautiful shade of white with a beautiful blue sky. The air was fresh and clean- just like my house would be once I got this kid to got number one and two in the potty. Today was the day. Today would be the day I changed my last diaper. Well, it might take a day or two but the end was near.

DD2, however, had other plans. I planted the beautiful arrangement of fattening circles on the kitchen counter. Nothing to do now but wait. After a few minutes I heard DD2 coming out of the bedroom. As usual, wearing nothing but a diaper and a smile. And some wild hair. Man that kids got some hair. She toddled around the living room and kitchen for a bit. The it happened! She spotted "THE BOX!" The following is actual events represented by actual people. DD2 is the baby and DM is me, defeated mommy.

DD2- "Donut mommy. I want donut."

DM- "Really. Well you have to wear your big girl panties."

DD2-" K Mommy."

DM- Insert fist pump. Lawd that was too easy!

Now is where I will pause the conversation to introduce you to my better half, DH, affectionally known as "dear hubby."

DH had been watching all of this unfold over his coffee and eggs. I am convinced this will work. He, on the other hand, is not.

DD2- "Mommy, I have on panties. Elsa anna ones."

DM- "Good job!" I dance around the room like she just solved a rubix cube in 2 seconds.

"Now we have to go sit on the potty. You don't have to pee pee, but you need to sit on it and try."

DD2- "NO. I go potty my diaper!"

DM- "No. You are a big girl with big girl panties. If you want to wear pretty big girl panties you have to go potty in the potty."

DD2-"NO!! I go potty my DIAPER!"

DM- (glancing at DH for moral support and finding none) "Honey, you need to go potty."

DD2 spots the donuts again.

DD2- "Mommy I want a donut."

DM- "You have to go sit on the potty for two minutes. Then you can have a donut."

DD2- "I WANT A DONUT," she screams. Insert ear piercing noise.

By now I am chasing her around the kitchen island because I'm not the one to be screambed by someone who can't even reach the height of my thigh. (I am only 5'2 by the way). I can't catch her. OMG, I cannot catch her. She runs past me and leaps- leaps I tell you- onto the counter holding the treasure. She looks over at me and grins because she thinks she's getting that donut. Oh hell no you don't bad one! Over my dead body! Just as I got to her she squirmed off the counter and out of reach.

Her we go again, round and round the kitchen island. I knows she had to be dizzy because I sure as hell was. Every time she got a chance she'd try and get to those donuts. Finally I blocked that portion of the counter with my body. She could not get up to the treasure now and she was losing her mind. Wallering at my feet- for those of you not lucky enough to be born in the south, yes, wallering is a word.

I kept my cool. Stayed calm and collected. She just glared at me. Hateful mean glare I tell you. If looks could kill.....

I calmly told her to "go potty." "Just sit on it and you can keep wearing your big girl panties AND you can have a donut." Once again I was given the death stare. She decided that approach wasn't going to work. I wasn't scared by a toddler with a wicked stare. About that time I looked over at DH who was still no help in the moral support corner. DD2 got up from her floor wallering and took off screaming into her room. Thank god because I didn't know how much longer I could refrain from ducktaping her lips shut, and her panties to her butt and feeding the donuts to the damned birds! DD2 is now in the bedroom screaming at me about donuts saying " I WANNA GO POOP IN MY DIAPER!"

Suddenly it got quiet. You know...like the quiet before the tornado hits kind of quiet. I could her rustling around in her room and then little feeding padding across my hardwood floor. I looked around the corner and ,if I'm lyin' I'm dyin', she walked right past me and threw her panties into the trash and handed me a diaper. I just gaped at her. I was horrified. This couldn't be my daughter. There was NO WAY I'd turn down a donut just so I could continue to poop on myself.

For a hot second I felt like I had won the battle. She didn't get her donut so I thought I was the victorious one. Then it hit me that she didn't go potty either so neither of us won that battle.

Since that fateful day the little angel has enjoyed quite a few donuts. I guess she won the battle afterall because the week after that stand off- I bought an economy pack of diapers while she ate a donut in the shopping cart.

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