Trash Power

No, the title is not in reference to my Tomball roots.

It is, however, my new motto regarding discipline.

I'm not sure if I'm the Hitler or the Hippie of the Mommy Brigade, but either way I'm so completely fed up with whining, attitude, talking back, messes everywhere, etc.

The fact that yesterday I had my 5th meltdown in as many days (including full-fledged curse words, aka: FUCK, thank you very much) has led me to take drastic measures.

The trash can is now my new best friend. If I have a problem, he is always there to help me fix it. Toys left out again? Trash! Snacks left uneaten? Trash! Clothes all over the floor? Trash! Little girl sassing too much? Trash!

Okay, well maybe not her, but her beloved Rapunzel doll? You better believe it.

I urge any of you out there with young ones, sloppy husbands, etc to become closer acquianted with your Trash Can. He/She just might save your life (and your child's...)