The Post Holiday Let-Down

So Taryn has been sleeping really well lately (if you follow my blog you will see what a crowning achievement this has become!). I wonder if it has anything to do with the new "white-noisemaker" we brought back with us from Christmas? No - we are not such horrible parents that we consider white-noisemakers a desirable stocking-stuffer...Taryn's new noisemaker is the 2 1/2 year old screaming "I HAVE TO GO POO-POOS!" in the bedroom next door. Before you lecture me on the imperative nature of a young child's bowel movements, allow me to provide you with some backstory.

Just 2 short weeks ago, we rolled into Tucson on the fumes of Rockstar Energy drinks and several failed attempts at finding Nemo. The holidays were officially underway and my kids wasted no time capitalizing on the backlog of grandparent-love-slavery that had been awaiting them. For the next 10 days there were an endless number of arms for holding, hands for giving treats, eyes for watching, and feet for following on forced marches! Somewhere along the line, the prospect of infinite love and attention turned my clueless two year old into a devious dictator. Suddenly he had willing subjects to order around who ACTUALLY did his bidding! It was paradise on earth...until the dreaded day we packed up the car and drove home...paradise lost!

In just 2 short weeks, my 2 year old has completely forgotten how to do ANYTING by or for himself!! Included in that vast list is his ability to go to sleep peacefully. And being the expert little sinner that he is, he's figured out the one chink in my iron-clad, you-can-scream-as-long-and-as-loud-as-you-like armour...Poo-Poos!! All you have to do is scroll back a few months in this blog to re-live the horror that was potty training in the Bangert household...a horror that Brody clearly realizes still lurks deep in the depths of my heart! What Brody has underestimated, however, is that part of my job as a professional mother is to track the ins-and-outs of his bowel movements and I know a bluff when I hear one!! Not only that, but my desire to strip off my spit-up stained clothes and collapse on the couch with a glass of wine FAR outweighs the prospect of cleaning a wild card poop. So there, Brody! I'm calling your bluff!....And sweet dreams, Taryn!