You know when I prayed for that baby who was so long in coming? So desperate was I for baby that I said that I wouldn't care if we had a brat.
You know when we named that same baby a moniker that has graced magazine covers and Paris runways, and I said it would suit a girl with attitude?
Gahhhhhhh!!!! It's freakin' payback time, now.
I'm all for my daughter being strong-willed, stubborn and assertive. I just wish that she had someone else to practice on.
We're going through a bit of a trying time with the little one lately. She seems to be happy calling all the shots, not being too keen to follow rules (unless she comes up with them herself), wanting everything her way and for her royal subjects to wait on her hand and foot. Princess syndrome, all day, 24/7.
She's been fortunate. Her big brother is fantastic to her. He's a really wonderful kid. And perhaps, therein lies the problem.
She knows this. She hears her parents talk about how wonderful he is; she hears her relatives tell their wonderboy stories; she hears her brother's friends parents mention how mature beyond his years he is … all about him, him, him. No wonder her current modus operandi is that any attention, no matter how garnered, is better than attention toward her brother. The more annoying she gets, the better. Things are particularly testy when she needs a nap.
Today was an especially spectacular example.
After a wonderful morning at school with further playtime at the playground with her classmates , we came home with her best pal to a fabulous lunch of hot dogs and toast with grapes on the side. The girlie had a couple of quick meltdowns which are par for the course, but after a half hour of watching "Flushed Away "with her buddy, we were off to their afternoon sport program. More play time, this time along with her other best friend in tow. Life shall we say, is sweet.
”Okay, time to drive your pal home, Mommy has to get gas for the car and rush back in time for big brother to be home.”
"No, I don’t want to go home. I want to stay at my friend’s.”, as we drove up her friend’s driveway.
“Well, not today sweetie. We have to arrange it with his Mommy. But I picked up some nice crafts that we can work on when we’re home.”, I said patiently while her pal bounded out of the car. I opened up her side of the van so she could say good-bye.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I WANNA GET OUT NOWWWWWWWWW!!!!”.
Screeching at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her red face, her arms and legs outstretched as she tried to bust out of her five-point harness ... she was truly a sight to behold. I couldn’t reason with her, so I just shut the van door to muffle her screams as I returned to the driver’s side. I got into the van, and reversed, with her screaming continuously ringing in my ear. All the while repeating that we had crafts and fun stuff to look forward to.
Then I looked at my rear view mirror and I saw her undoing her carseat buckle.
I cracked. I pulled over to the side of the road, opened her door, read her the riot act about how her behaviour was unacceptable as I tightened up her belt, shut the door yet again, muffling higher pitched screams, and then got back into the driver’s seat.
I was done listening to any more hysterics. So I did the only logical thing. Not even paying attention to what was on, I cranked up the radio to almost full volume…
Don't even know how the hell that showed up on my dial. But it was exhilarating, I wanted to just let loose with some good old-fashioned headbanging on my steering wheel.
In any case, it made the little old lady walking by with her little dog almost jump out of her skin.
And the girlie? Stupefied, within 30 seconds, her tears seemed to have dried up, her wailing stopped, and after I lowered the volume, we drove the two minutes to the gas station.
After pumping the gas, I got back in the car and her royal highness Princess G squeaked out...
"Uh, Mommy, can we go home and do crafts now?"
And with that, she promptly passed out on the way home.
Now THAT was an awesome lullaby.