Twenty minutes. That’s the average time lately to convince one five year old that she needs to brush her teeth. Five types of toothpaste, from Toms To Disney Princess, that’s how many toothpastes are sitting on our counter. 100%, that’s the amount of percentage Olivia feels like Medieval torture is similar to us making her brush her teeth twice a day.
Today, like every other day I woke her up with a good morning, reminded her of the fun in-store today because it’s tie dye day in Kindergarten. She was excited, until she equated getting ready for school with brushing her teeth. Then, she laid on the living room carpet, naked and wailing, while I reminded her of the time until the bus came.
Sick of the yelling. Sick of the nagging. I decided today way the day. Today was the day we were going to practice personal accountability.
Wailing. Screaming, generally trainwrecking I reminded her how awful it would be if she missed the bus, and that no one was going to drive her to school, so if she didn’t brush her teeth and make good decisions she was going to miss out on the fun of tie dying a t-shirt and that would be unfortunate.
The thought of it killed me a little. I snuck upstairs as she was in a battle of wits with her toothbrush and talked to Jamie as we just sat there with a ‘what the hell do we do in this situation’ and decided that we need to be #meanmom and #meandad and if she wasn’t going to brush her teeth and miss the bus, then she was going to miss tie dye.
With two and a half minutes to spare, I think she finally realized my countdown was serious and got up half-dressed from the bathroom floor, racing to put her clothes on, and finally putting her boots on while she brushed her teeth.
I handed her a piece of toast, her backpack, and hat. She zippered up her jacket and walked out the door like I wasn’t prepared to be the meanest mom twenty minutes ago.
Can you imagine the mom guilt that would come from her missing tie dye day!?