Marley and the Delicate Art of Parental Manipulation

Marley is quite the independent little 2-and-a-half year old. Every morning, she wakes up with the sun...usually well before 7am, which means Ian and I are still fast asleep. (But not for long.)

The first thing she does is go to the kitchen to get her morning sippy cup of milk, which we leave for her in the fridge. (Usually the first thing we hear in the morning is the door of the fridge slam.) Then she'll take off her diaper that she wears to sleep and throw it in the kitchen trash. Finally, we'll hear her plod up the stairs to our room, and soon we'll feel her warm, 33 pound body nestled in bed between us, happily slurping down her milk. She'll either accept the fact that both of her parents are delirious with sleep and lay quietly between us (though wide awake), or, if she's feeling feisty, she'll demand that we turn the Disney morning cartoons.

That's how we roll.

But this morning it went down a little differently. Instead of hearing the usual sounds, I heard, "Mommy, I went wee-wee in my diaper and in my pants!" Yup...that was my little munchkin, calling me from her room at 6:45am. Marley still wears a diaper to bed, and frequently goes potty in it during the night. Occasionally, she'll pee through her diaper and pants, which can make things a little messy.

"It's OK Marley," I called down, not ready to get out of bed just yet. "Just take off your diaper and bring up some new jammie pants upstairs. I'll help you put on new pants."

"NOOOO Mommy," she replied. "There is wee-wee in my PANTS!"

"It's OK," I said again. "Just bring some new pants up here and I'll help you!"

"NOOO Mommy, I went wee-wee AND poo-poo in my pants." Now this got my attention. I sat up in bed. She hasn't pooped in her sleepy-time diaper in months.-

"You went poo-poo in your diaper?" I called down, bewildered. This was new.

"YES. I went poo-poo in my pants, it's everywhere, it's REALLY GROSS."

Hmmm. Now I had no choice but to go downstairs and check things out.  As I slowly rolled out of bed, (apparently, far too slowly) an impatient Marley decided to share some new information to up the ante.

"AND MOMMY...I threw up too. There's throw up everywhere. All over my room. Wee-wee, poo-poo and throw up, all over my bed and pants. It's REALLY REALLY GROSS."

That got me moving. I scurried downstairs to her room expecting to find all kinds of destruction and carnage. But what I found was...Marley, sitting up in bed, smiling at me. No poo-poo. No throw up. Just a happy little girl, who had already removed her wet sleepy-time diaper, who appeared very pleased she had managed to get her mommy to come downstairs with this fabricated threat of explosive bodily functions.
"Marley," I said. "Why did you say that there was poo-poo and throw up everywhere?"

She smiled. "I wanted to snuggle mommy in my bed," she replied, with a twinkle in her eye.

Uh...yeah. My daughter is now officially smarter than me, and knows how to push all my buttons to get what she wants. Super. If she's this smart at two, what the hell is going to happen when she is a teenager?

Does anyone else have a master manipulator on their hands? If so, please share!