Some people get stuck in Freud's infamous "Anal" stage.
Way back when I was a college sophomore someone on our hall started stealing the 12 oz drinking glasses from the dining hall, filling them with their fecal matter for the day and depositing it in front of an unsuspecting sleeping student's door. The poor bleary eyed student would awake in the morning to find the glass of cold turd staring at him as he opened the door. We dubbed the idiot who pulled these pranks the "Mad Shitter" It turned out the mad shitter was a senior in my fraternity. Bob Dalton, if you ever read this I hope someone shitteth on you.
It seems that the Mad Shitter has been reincarnated in a different not-so-discrete form. Lolo's big fun-thing-to-do-to-piss-off-the-parents now is playing with poop. What a delightful and fun way to spend quality time with a sweet little girl. We thought we had her potty trained but obviously she has regressed.
Over the past week she has thrilled herself three times. The first time it was finger painting on the white walls in the hall, on the door trim and on the carpet under her crib. We sternly informed her that poop was not for playing and that it belonged in the potty. She repeated back to us that poop belongs in the potty. As if to say "Fooled you dumbasses- I play with shit whenever I want to play with shit and you will run like a sissy and clean it up. I have ultimate power over you mindless and spineless dirtbags"
To prove her point, she made her next canvas the dining room table and floor. At least shit wipes easily from hardwood floors and underneath glass tabletops. Then yesterday Lolo decided that the patterns on the kitchen drapes did not have enough brown. Mmmm, Mmmm. Nothing like trying to get digested macaroni and cheese and goldfish off drapes that cost more than our car.
Maybe we can keep her in this stage for another two years. Then the twins will be old enough to battle Lolo in shit wars! We can have shit slumber parties, pin the shit on the donkey, and play hide-and-go-smear-shit-on-someone.
I gotta head out now and go buy some brown paint.
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4 comments:
okay - I hate to tell you this BUT -
My daughter did this a total of 5 times. The fifth time she did it I lost total control and spanked the living daylights out of her. (it was on her pillow, comforter, in her shoes, smeared on the tan carpet in her room, and on the stuffed animals) She never did it again!!! I wished I had spanked her after the 3rd time. So - thats my recommendation and I'm sticking to it.
My daughter has only done it once.. .and I am crossing my fingers that the semi-cold bath I gave her to clean up impacted her enough to refrain in the future.
But I don't envy you. How icky!! I recall quite vividly -- a call from my sister (see comment above tee hee) "AMANDA. I DON'T THINK MY DAUGHTER IS GOING TO MAKE IT TO HER NEXT BIRTHDAY."
I hope this stage is shortlived. And I hope you learned your lesson about having expensive things in your house with babies running around... isn't that the first thing they taught you in your childbirth classes? That never again, until 18-23 years from now, are you allowed to have anything pretty or worth value? *laugh, snort*
OK, it's early, my coffee hasn't made it to my lips yet, and I'm sitting here reading about:
a mad shitter, Freud's anal stage,someone named Dalton, and a child who is redecorating her parent's house with her poopy...
I think I need to find the Bailey's and Kaluha before I visit any more blogs.
If it's any consolation, both my daughters went through this stage but only while caged in their baby beds. It's quite startling to find them covered from head-to-toe, standing with arms extended, smiling, wanting OUT. They both only did this once. You Win!
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