Ducks are good for eating. Mmmm…duck.

When I was pregnant, we used to joke about parenting our child like we do our pets - a spritz in the mouth of Bitter Apple Spray when Juniorette wouldn’t stay away from the bookshelf, etc.

Button has recently started a yelling phase. When she’s done with her meal, when she’s bored, slightly discontented, or when she realizes she doesn’t have 100% of my attention at any given moment. It’s not at all the same as the crying she does when she’s really upset. It’s just flat-out yelling.

It’s driving me up the wall. Seriously, if it continues for much longer I just might drown myself in the bathtub. If I can get around all the plastic squirty toys.

I hate yelling. Raised voices make my blood pressure rise and my nerves implode. I can’t think, I can’t hear, it’s all I can do to continue breathing in a semi-normal fashion. The sudden but constant “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” that I have recently been subjected to on a daily basis is enough to make me start bashing my head into the nearest wall.

And yet, I’m unsure what to do about it.

According to BabyCenter, she’s too young to understand time out (and putting her in time out would undoubtedly increase the yelling and rush me that much closer to jumping off a bridge). She’s too young for spanking, etc - and even if she wasn’t I’m not sure that’s the best method of behavioral training for her. I’ve tried the slap on the hand when she’s reaching for something she shouldn’t be. It totally had the opposite effect. I might as well have said “Good girl, Button! Do it again!”

So the challenge of coming up with a negative consequence that she’ll understand and take heed of is a big one.

Yesterday morning she was laying on the bed after her bath, and I was trying to apply her lotion and diaper. The yelling began. I reached over and grabbed the squirt bottle we use for the cat when he’s being obnoxious and misted her right in the face.

She blinked. Then she looked at me like, “What the hell was that???”

But the yelling stopped. She didn’t yell for the rest of the day.

UPDATE:  As there has been some confusion, I feel the need to clarify that I spritzed my daughter with water - not apple/pepper spray. 

Button’s latest thing is Bye-Bye (or, rather, “beh-beh”), complete with limp-wristed wave.

She says it to everyone we meet, dismissing them within the first three words of conversation. She says it to everyone we don’t meet. When we walk through the parking lot at church, she has to wave at every. single. person. that passes, and if they don’t respond before our paths have crossed, she stops, turns around, and waves to their back: “Beh-beh. Beh-beh. Beh-beh.” Our already time-consuming trek through the 5-mile parking lot is now three times longer.

She says it to Daddy when he tries to get a hug out of her. She says it when we put her down for a nap. She says it to the book she throws in the trashcan. She says it to everyone who comes in and out of our door. She says it to the dog and the cat when I take her upstairs. She says it to the Fed Ex Guy, the housekeepers, her grandparents, waitresses, co-workers, her stuffed duck, her shoes, the people on TV.

And still, I never get tired of it.

I went to the dentist today and I swear to you, the dental hygienist thought her job was to scrape the teeth right out of my mouth.

You would think that having to repeatedly use the squirty-sucky thing to remove all the BLOOD FROM MY MOUTH BECAUSE IT’S GETTING IN THE WAY would clue you in to the fact that maybe - just MAYBE - you were getting a little too enthusiastic about the scrapey-scrapey.

Apparently not.

I have another cavity. This is my third cavity this year. I’m not sure what the deal is, but before this year I hadn’t seen a dentist in at least five years. And never had a cavity during all that time. In fact, before this year, I’ve never had a cavity in my entire life.

And suddenly, my teeth are going to hell.

Speaking of going to hell, I guess I haven’t updated you on the stupid ticket situation. My lawyer told me in no uncertain terms that I was pretty much screwed before we even went in to negotiate with the prosecutor last Thursday. Apparently the city in which I live has a reputation far and wide for being corrupt (my word, based on his description) and the primary purpose of the multitude of cops is to hand out tickets as a sort of involuntary fundraiser for the city.

This makes sense to me because the city in which I live has an outrageous number of cops per capita. Outrageous. As in, I actually notice when I see one cop on my way to/from home instead of 2 or more. I’ve seen 2-4 cops pulling over the same vehicle. I distinctly recall the two times I went somewhere without seeing any cops because it was such a rare occurrence.

We once witnessed a hit-and-run and waited with the motorcyclist until the cop showed up to take statements etc. THIRTY MINUTES. There is nowhere in this city you can’t get within 5 minutes, 10 minutes MAX. But if there’s a stoplight out, they’re there within seconds handing out tickets. Not directing traffic, mind you - handing out tickets to everyone in the parking lots.

Anyway, I was pretty much told that the court system is in cahoots with the police force and their single goal is to pillage the pocketbooks of the hapless citizens who get tickets. They don’t give a flying flip whether or not I actually did anything wrong. All they want is my money. So consequently, the prosecutor was completely unwilling to drop the charge against me. She was, however, open to a deferral agreement that would take both charges off my record.

Provided that I pay $250 for the privilege.

There went my Christmas money.

Ok, since I haven’t heard any complaints from the 5 of you who read this blog, I’m going ahead with the “Christmas in November” motif.

If it bothers you, just look at this instead: