Friday, May 17, 2013

Tiny Hitler

My life has been taken over by a pint-sized dictator. I'm starting to think this photo was not just a happy accident. It was a prediction of my future.



Everything can be going well. We can be having a great day. And then out of nowhere, she'll giggle devilishly and bite you. "I bite!" You get down to her level to explain why biting is wrong, like all the experts tell you to, and she whacks you in the face. How much abuse can one take? It's a natural reflex to hit back, but you stop yourself and stuff your inner rage and tell her to stand on the wall for two minutes instead. "Timeout" you call it. But she thinks this is a fun game and runs after you. Every time you walk her back, she laughs and runs away from the wall. Two minutes turns into 10 and the flailing isn't worth it and by this time she's totally forgotten about the reason she's on the wall, and let's face it, so have you. At this point, you're determined to win but you've already lost. Your wits and your mind and your dignity. Gone.

The other day I found myself Googling "How to make your child stay in timeout." This was rock bottom. Also, I'm on a short list for Mother of the Year.

What's worse is that you get some type of Stockholm's Syndrome. You find yourself making excuses for her behavior. Oh, she's just tired/hungry, you tell yourself. She had a late/short nap. This is ridiculous. She's 2 and apparently the natural human state is that of a terrorist and it needs to be beat disciplined out of her. Children like boundaries. Consistent consequences. The French call it the Cadre; a frame of boundaries where your child has freedom inside the frame, but knows not to cross that line. How do they know? Is it instinct? Are they electrocuted? Do they wear those special dog collars? Who are these French children?When I tell her not to do something, she smiles and does it with more ferocity while looking you square in the eye. She's like a miniature honey badger. If only I was French.

I won't even get into what happens when I try to talk on the phone.

It's not all bad. She's actually a good, happy kid. She doesn't have tantrums or meltdowns. She doesn't throw herself on the ground in public places. She's just strong-willed and defiant. And slightly abusive. She does what she wants when she wants. And much like her father, she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. I don't know if that means she's like her father, or if her father is like a 2-year-old, but they are much the same in this respect.


In other news, potty training is shitty. Literally. My mother, bless her heart, washes out underwear in the toilet if she poops in them. I throw that shit away. It's disgusting. We've moved to just having her wear training pants (the cloth kind, not Pull-Ups) and letting her pee. It's actually working. She's getting better at telling you she needs to pee, or holding it until you decide she needs to pee. Or she pees halfway and then holds it until you rush her to the toilet. Either way, there's been a clean-up on aisle three several times. She's worse than a puppy. Some people would say she just isn't ready, but she is. She's just lazy. If I put a big absorbent bag on you, you'd probably pee in it too if you didn't feel like getting up. Also, we've traumatized her so much about pooping in the tub that for a while she was afraid to take a bath. A+ parenting Ladies and Gentlemen. Right here.

On a better note, she finally realized she likes us! She gives us hugs and kisses and cuddles (on her terms) and actually seems happy to see us at the end of the day. This is a vast improvement from the partial indifference we received for awhile, so it is a welcome change. I am both terrified and excited to see the evolution of her personality as she matures. Something tells me she'll be a force to be reckoned with.