I love my baby girl. I just love her so much… but man she caused a ruckus in Wifey’s House yesterday. I don’t understand how one adorable, little four-year-old princess can be sweet as pie one minute, and then turn on you instantly.
“Why are YOU so mean to me?”
Yup, that would be Milan, questioning me intently, while crying hysterically. Right. Like I made her totally ignore me at Miles tennis lessons, run onto the court and ask the coach for a sticker. I understand the fascination four-year-old girls have with stickers, so I told her to come here and I would make sure she got a special sticker when we got home. Gosh, I’m mean. Yeah. It’s my fault that she didn’t listen when I told her to get off of the court and to come over to me. Yup, that was exactly what I wanted to happen in the middle of the tennis center, while everyone was watching my child try to see how far she can push me. Just as I started to feel like the crazy lady in the store again, she finally walked, correction, stormed off of the court, ran down the sidewalk then crouched down into the proper pouting position. After stomping her feet and giving me the I-hate-you-stare-down, she stopped on the sidewalk directly in front of the car and folded her arms across her chest. Oh no, just wait, it gets better…
Miles saw trouble coming and got in the car quickly to watch it unfold. I looked at her sternly and told her to get in the car. She stood there, lips poked out, still giving me the ice-cold stare-down.
Are you kidding? My four-year-old daughter is playing chicken with me. So I did what anyone who wants to pretend like they have some semblance of control would do… I called her bluff.
I opened my door and looked at her.
She didn’t move.
I got in and closed my door.
Not a flinch.
I strapped on my seat belt.
Damn, she didn’t budge. This girl is good. I actually started to get a little nervous that I was going to have to fold and go get her until I put the key in the ignition and turned on the car …
Next thing I knew, a little blonde blur whizzed by, hopped in the car and was strapped into her booster seat.
Chalk one up for Wifey.
OK, I can admit it, I’m a softy and I told her immediately that there is NO WAY I would ever leave her anywhere, but, I also told her that her behavior was unacceptable and she had to go to bed for the rest of the night. To which she responded…
“Why are YOU so mean to me?”
Yup, here we go again.
Notice the emphasis on you. What sucks is I’m really not mean. In fact, I’m way too lenient, which is probably why she thinks she could get away with something like that in the first place. I’ve got a firecracker on my hands. While I love her independence and determination, she still needs to learn boundaries and how to channel it.
Did I mention she’s only four? Something tells me I should be afraid… very afraid. How about you? Are you as mean as Wifey? Have your children blamed you for not having enough stickers, for Greg leaving The Wiggles or any other major catastrophes they’ve recently faced. Mean mommies want to know…