Right now this little spitfire is a handful. She makes me so crazy sometimes. Like yesterday, for example, at the doctors office. There are only so many ways I can control her in that tiny little room crammed with way too many people. And when I'm trying to listen to the doctor and Liv is jumping around like a wild child, trying to climb up on the exam table, making SO much noise, and basically just being out of control, I don't really know what to do.
No amount of threatening words or scary eyes did anything to calm her down yesterday. And I couldn't really smack her on the bum in front of the doctor. Right? Right. Anyway so I calmly told her that if she didn't listen and follow directions she wouldn't be able to get a sticker on the way out.
And of course she didn't. So I ended up dragging a screaming and crying three year old out of the office, shrieking about how I was the meanest mommy ever for not letting her get a sticker.
There were looks.
Sigh.
And right now she is currently napping because she was so enraged when she couldn't get her baby doll blanket to lay just right in her baby doll crib that she was throwing things and screaming and when- heaven forbid- I tried to help, she yelled and screamed at me. Like it was my fault I'm not a mind reader. Plus what she wanted to have happen wasn't even physically possible. So I put her in bed and she cried herself to sleep.
So wish me luck. With her.
I mean not that she isn't just adorable With her glaring eyes and her love for lip gloss and her sweet side, which is really very sweet. And she's funny and imaginative and smart and wonderful. Just also. . . she's a mess sometimes.
1 comment:
AMEN to all of the above. This age is so much harder with girls I feel like. I mean with boys it wasn't nearly so dramatic. I'm almost immune to the looks I get. Almost.
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