Thursday, October 15, 2009

The Jaded School Of Parenting: Lesson Two - Learn When To Ask For Help

I pride myself in being a whiz at dealing with children from babies to teenagers. My stern, yet fun and loving parenting style is known all over the blogosphere world and has produced two intelligent, independent and most-importantly well-behaved girls to date.

But even I, in my delusions of grandeur most infinite wisdom do not have all the answers. Many times I've called Mami about what to do about vomit (my Kryptonite) high temperatures and annoying coughs; where to get the best deals on kids' clothes and sometimes even a few hair issues. What I've come to find in all the years I've had minors under my care is this: you need to learn when to ask for help.

Now, I don't ask for assistance for myself hardly EVER, but when it comes to the babies I gladly lay my pride aside and confer with my fellow mommies.

And it's in this spirit that I come to you today, oh lovely readers, with a certain parenting issue that is about to unnecessarily drive me bonkers. So of course you already know it has to do with N, also known as Thug Boogie.



Everyday, when I pick Thug Boogie up from school it's the same thing: when we are already a block away from the school this little heifer is holding her crotch doing the PEE PEE DANCE talking 'bout, "I have to go real bad!" Every. Day. Without fail.

I've repeatedly asked her to use the restroom before the school day ends so that she's not walking through the street like some MJ impersonator (HEE HEE! SHAMON!) trying to foolishly hold her urine in with her hand but to no avail. So now we go through this choreography where she does this PEE PEE DANCE until I hand over the house keys, grab her book bag and tell her to run ahead to let herself in before she wets herself.

This, my friends, is not a new development. Ever since this Child of God was potty trained she's had the BAD HABIT of not using the bathroom until it's too late and it's an emergency. I've had to actually disembark from a train once, losing THREE subway fares, in order to find her a restroom. You don't even want to know what my stankness level was on that day... GRRRR!

So here's my dilemma: aside from addressing the problem with her teacher, who I'm sure has her hands full with more pressing issues than whether or not N went to the bathroom, how can I solve this annoying PEE PEE DANCE issue?

Let the mommies and daddies and recovering PEE PEE DANCErs come forward and advise...

*smooches...proving that it DOES take a village, bitchezzz*
----------
normally El Generalissimo Mommy of BedStuy would just WHOOP the child into submission until she learned to urinate when *I* told her to, but something tells me that would be wrong.

So any advice would be most appreciative...