this is an intervention.

i'm writing today because i love you, and i want what's best for you.

honey, the spit baths have GOT TO STOP.

i can't, for the life of me, figure out where you picked this atrocious habit up. i've grueled over it. and ruminated in it. and trust me. i got nothin'.

your pretending to talk on the phone all the time? from me. 

your absolute DEMANDING to wear my fancy shoes? from me. ('atta girl!)

your love of running? your daddy

the throwing yourself down on the floor, weeping and gnashing your teeth? your uncle sean. (jk)

your love of water and to swim? from your grandpa.

but the spit bath? really, jovie? really?

i would say you were pretending to be a cat. but. we don't have cats. the only cats you have seen are on the tv or books, in which case, you yell "BUBBA!" and then bark like a dog. which. i get to the outside viewer, that may be a little awkward? a toddler thinking that dogs are her brothers. and i'll take the blame for that. i have called the boys "bubba" since, like, forever....so it only was natural for you to refer to them that way, too. sorry if that screws with your head a little. (we will work that out later). 

so. here's the deal. and? maybe you can help me understand the reason for this now that you are older?

it started one night after your bath and you were sitting in my sink in the bathroom "bosh"ing your teeth for the 7th time that day.  your towel had fallen off, so you were in your skinnies in my sink. i stood behind you first drying your hair, then mine.

you got bored with brushing your teeth, so i handed you one of my old cosmetic brushes for you to pretend to put make-up on with. and that's where things went south. your version of putting on blush includes pinching your lips together and spitting - LOUDLY - onto the brush's handle and then wiping it all over your body.

armpits? yes. knees? yes. face? yes. neck? yes. feet? yes....you get the picture.

it was weird, but i let you alone because you were being you and i want you to be you. 

but then.

THEN!

then the spit baths moved onto spitting on your toys and then rubbing the toys all over. 

then while in the car, once you'd thrown all of your toys and bottles and shoes at me, you use your fingers. 

spit. everywhere. jovie.

::pppbblltt::

::pppbblltt::

::pppbblltt::

::pppbblltt::

all over your hands.

all over your neck.

running down your face.

soaking your shirt.

making you smell like day-breath all the time.

and it inevitably ends up on me, too, because i am always right by you. (rude!) 

so. in trying to get you to stop, i started with a simple "no ma'am". polite. didn't work.

i tried the guilt trip tactic by proclaiming that you are "making mommy sad". bah! you didn't care.

i practiced the shame approach. "BLGH! Jovie. that's YUCKY! BLGH". and....while that appeared to have done some good, your self esteem won't allow me to keep you down for long. (that's commendable)

::pppbblltt::

::pppbblltt::

::pppbblltt::

that noise coming from the backseat sends my head spinning. i don't care how fast i'm driving, it's NEVER fast enough to keep me from giving you the DEATH STARE OF DOOM!!!! so i'll whirl my head around to give you "the look" and you hide your hands under your legs as if you were simply pondering life's great mysteries, like a good little girl.

i'm smart, monkey. i see the incriminating evidence dripping from your chin.

your innocence is lost on me, kid. i know what was going on. i know you were trying to hide your nasty habit with no intention of quitting anytime soon. O' the lies! the deception! the sneaking behind my back!!!! (literally).

shame tactic again:  "Jooohhh-viieeee!"

so i chose to watch you in my rear view mirror. so i could witness you losing your innocence. and you know what? it's not like you couldn't see me seeing you. you are on to me just as much as i am on to you. you were WATCHING me watch you. i honestly don't understand why you can't just sit in the back seat like a normal 19 month old doing...i don't know...long division or something.

::pppbblltt::

you started back up again with your eyes laser beamed to mine and with a look of sheer defiance,

::pppbblltt::

you sit in the back seat grooming yourself until you smell like a wet rag. and this has got to stop.

spit belongs ONLY in your mouth. not on your body. or. Heaven forbid, someone else's mouth.

::pppbblltt::

and since i've been looking in the rear view mirror? i notice i have an eyebrow hair out of place so i...

oh no.
i did this to you.
heck. i did this to ME.

oh.

dear.

heavens.

you got this nasty habit from me!