She really wanted to play "lights," which is a game where we turn off all the lights in the house and she runs around with her glow-in-the-dark bouncy eyeball. (Yeah, I know. She got it sometime around Halloween). She loves the game. Guillermo wanted to play Star Wars with Will and turned on a light in the living room. Maya was irate, crying and bouncing around the room. I suggested calmly to her that we could play in the bedrooms, where it was still dark. She wanted nothing to do with it and continued her tantrum. At the same time, she was doing the "I have to go to the bathroom" dance that little kids do so I calmly suggested she take a bathroom break and said I would help her.
She followed me into the bathroom but screamed when I tried to help her with her pants. "I no have to go potty!" she said, as she danced around in a circle away from me.
"Maya, why don't you just try," I said.
"I no have to go potty," she screamed.
"Are you sure you don't have to go?"
A few second later "I have to go potty."
By the time I got her on the toilet, she was nearly finished going, and her pants were soaking wet.
She sat on the toilet until she calmed down and then I told her we needed to talk.
Number one, I said, and then told her that this was her second accident today because she wasn't paying attention to her body or to me.
Number two, I said, "I do not like your tantrums." I went on to tell her that it was OK to be upset about something, but a tantrum wasn't going to help get her anything. I'm sure I went on for a bit, as I tend to do, and then I asked if she was feeling better and told her she could play after she took her dirty clothes to the laundry room.
"What is number three, mama?" she asked sweetly.
Huh? I gave her a puzzled look.
"What is number three?" she asked again.
"Oh," I said as the lightbulb went on. "I don't have a number 3."
"OK," she said and got off the chair happily.