Who Needs a Van When I Got Me This Here Flyin’ Broomstick?

Join me fellow witchy moms and we’ll take this baby for a spin. I am so mad right now, I can hardly type this post. However, doing so will keep my sweet little this-close-to-being-sold-to-the-next-group-of-traveling-gypsies daughter from being flung from the house.

Currently I am self-medicating with Dryer’s mint chocolate chip slow-churned. Dan’s drug of choice is Tums.

I have seriously never wanted to kick someone’s trash the way I want to right now and she’s laughing at me, no remorse whatsoever.

For the past two weeks, Laylee has decided that she’s potty trained. No more duct tape at night, no more diapers. I rarely even ask her if she has to go anymore. She just does. Amazing. I told a friend on Friday that we are on the downward slope of a very bratty 3 month period. We were glad to be on the downward slope.

Tonight this all changed. She is going to be 3 years old in a couple of months. She is very mature and usually well behaved for her age. She knows what we expect. Today signs of bratishness have abounded and it has worried me greatly.

Tonight when we put her in bed, she did this AGAIN! ONLY WORSE! She ground it so deep into the carpet that in certain places, we couldn’t get it out. We’re going to need professional help (take that however you want to).

It was in her hair, under her fingernails, EV-ER-Y-WHERE! Nothing we did could stop her from smiling. I scrubbed her down mercilessly with ice-cold water. I washed her hair with it and poured it over her head (to her, the worst kind of torture).

Still the smirk remained.

We made her sit in time out while we spent ½ an hour attempting to scrub the poop from the fibers of our semi-shag carpet.

We took away Ducky.

We took away starshine (a star lamp that she loves).

We removed every toy and fun wall hanging from her room (this sounds more dramatic than it really is. The room is being painted on Monday so we had to do this anyway. Good thing too because I couldn’t get all the poop out of the texturing on her wall. I guess they will just paint over it.).

Still the smirk remained.

We told her that because she was acting like a baby, she would have to wear diapers like a baby, not just today but tomorrow too, to church, with her friends, where they would all be wearing big kid panties and wouldn’t that be sad?

Still the smirk remained.

We told her maybe she wouldn’t get to go to nursery tomorrow (to her, the happiest place on earth).

Still the smirk remained.

She now lays in a deserted whoville-esque room of sadness but there is no crying, only smirking. The whole house smells like poop. I didn’t get to take a relaxing bath, work on NANOWRIMO, get through some paperwork that’s been stacking up, cuddle with my shmoop, eat bon bons or travel to Europe.

Nope. All I got to do was be a mom. Some days it’s glorious and some days it bites the big one. Tonight I got option B.