Fine Line Between Innovation and Insanity *

Last week we stopped to get pizza. While Jed and I were waiting to take it home, he bought a tattoo from one of the quarter machines. I told to him to let me hold it since he would more than likely lose it. Guess what...I left it at the pizza place.

In order to calm the fit that getting ready to explode, I grabbed some markers, my special tattoo markers and told Jed that I would draw him TWO tattoos. He was the happy new owner of two rocket ships, one on the back of each hand.

The following night we were able to barter snake tattoos on the tops of his feet in exchange for a shower. (The tattoos were drawn after the shower.)

This weekend I planned on the Great Potty Weekend. I was determined to get him to use the potty more than once a day. We started Saturday morning with a fight to get him on the potty. It was not going well. He wasn't interested in anything I had to offer when a lightbulb went on...At that moment Super Potty Tattoo Day was born. We made a deal, every time he peed in the potty he would get a super special hand-drawn tattoo.

I figured if I sent him to the potty at 10, 12 and 2 (around the time he goes at school) we might have some luck. Unfortunately we were in the car at all three of those times and by the time we got to a potty it was too late. By the end of the day he hadn't peed once in the potty. However the Super Potty Tattoo Day was not a total bust. I was able to get him to sit on the potty 5 times with NO FUSSING. That in itself was a great success. So before he went to bed, I let him choose one tattoo for trying so hard all day long. He asked me to draw a dinosaur...on the bottom of his left foot. He was tough and hardly fidgeted at all while I was drawing it, well except when the tail curled into his instep there was a little giggling.

Sunday was a little bit better. He sat on the potty 4 or 5 times and actually peed once to get the matching dinosaur on the other foot. And he earned a shark bicep tattoo for taking a bath. My husband is trying to talk him into a MOM tattoo on the other bicep if he hits the potty tomorrow morning.

I could either be a genius or an idiot. This is a inexpensive way to reward good behavior and limitless in the types (well as long as I can figure out a way to draw it) and location of the tattoos (although I told him today when he asked that I was NOT drawing a tattoo on his talley). Or I could be a total idiot in that my son will be a painted man by the age of 24 with tattoos covering him from head to toe.

I guess I will figure out how to deal with a painted son when the time comes because right now I am SO tired of buying and changing pull-ups.


*apologies to Michael Kors and Project Runway