Last night at dinner, Husband said something that hit me like a ton of bricks.
After watching me redirect Mittens for the millionth time to stop throwing chicken pieces at the cat, out came this casual remark:
HUSBAND: “She’s so much more obstinate with you than with me.”
Thanks for that, Chief.
Because just what a woman on the edge of a BBQ-chicken-stained-carpet-induced mental breakdown needs to hear is exactly how she’s failing her child. Or rather, how she’s failing to prevent her child from turning into an ornery shit.
In truth, Husband didn’t mean this innocent observation to be an indictment of my parenting, though at times I’m sure it’s completely warranted. Instead, it was just that: an observation. So of course I’ve been analyzing it to death all morning trying to decipher why my child thinks that the best way to interact with Mommy is through saying no, demanding something, or by just walking away from me altogether.
And I think I may have hit on something:
Scene #1 – from this weekend
ME: “Ok, I have an applesauce crusher or banana for lunch. Pick one. Which one?”
MITTENS: “Cookies!”
ME, holding up the choices: “Choose: crusher or banana.”
MITTENS, pointing to the pantry where I keep the cookies: “Cookies!”
Scene #2 – from last night
ME: “We’re leaving now. Let’s put on your sweatshirt.”
MITTENS: “It’s hot! Hot.”
ME, holding out the sweatshirt to help her put it on: “But it’s cold outside. So you need a sweatshirt.”
MITTENS, running away: “Aaaahhhhh!”
Scene #3 – from this morning
MITTENS, looking into her closet with me: “Want princesses shirt. No, Snow White. No, princesses.”
ME: “Baby, what about this pink elephant shirt? Want to try something different?”
MITTENS: “No, PRINCESSES!”
The best I can tell, Mittens apparently is so obstinate with me because she has, in fact, turned into a tiny person with an ever-expanding personality.
And I’m just getting in her way.
Already.
This may end poorly for us all.
(But on the bright side, when she’s been elected as the first woman ruler of the world, I can take all the credit. Nothing hones confidence and decision-making skills like a nightly fight between wearing the stripey pajamas instead of the ballerina ones.)
