March 2, 2010

Can a three-year old have PMS?  Our daughter has been showing us some attitude lately.  Well, both daughters really, but one in particular:

I don’t know if she’s a slow learner or what, but it’s taken her until age three to really master the word “NO!”

But master it, she has…

Her behaviour has been bad enough that instead of staying on the wagon during the week, I opened a bottle of wine while making supper last night.

Last night she said no to sitting in her seat at the table…  she had a tantrum when I wouldn’t give her a bowl full of chocolate chips before supper…  she said no to eating her supper… she didn’t like the way I poured her milk…  she wrote in a book… she tormented her siblings… she didn’t like the pyjamas I picked out for her so threw them at me…  I told her to pick her own pajamas and she wouldn’t…

We had a few staring contests and each stomped our feet a few times.

She got sent to bed without a story – tragedy.

In the midst of this, Sarah, who had made a fuss earlier in the day because I gave her a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch instead of the toast she wanted, was acting like an angel.  She quickly got herself ready and into bed, smiling as she tucked herself in under the covers, reveling in the fact her sister was in trouble.


First thing this morning, when Olivia came downstairs, she was still in a sour mood.  She wanted milk and I put it in the “wrong” cup.  She threw herself on the floor and I told her to either stop or go back to bed. (Thank goodness we didn’t have any guests last night!)  I went about  getting the three boys together and off to school and she was still on the floor, but not crying.  She asked politely for the cup she wanted so we transferred the milk from one to another and we both “won” that battle.

As D’Arcy headed out the door, he advised me, “Please don’t kill our daughter while I’m gone.”

I think he was joking.

Today was better.  The girls played together quite well and there were no big tantrums.  (We did have a brief stare-down when I asked her to hand over the knitting needles she had found and was playing with…)  At lunch, Sarah asked for a grilled cheese sandwich.

I can’t win.

I spent some time in the laundry room, folding wash and then running the baskets upstairs to put it all away.  When I checked in on the girls, who had been very quiet, I discovered that Hurricane Olivia had struck in our play room.

(And this was taken before she dumped that big container of markers & coloured pencils out on top of the mess that was there already!)

I hope she’s still cute when she’s a teenager because I have a feeling this is just the beginning…


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