Captain No Beard

Friday, October 31, 2014

Thursday, October 30, 2014

The little ballerina waits for class to begin.
Monday, October 13, 2014

The Biscuit chose this fire captain, Spider-Man, ballet slipper mashup during a bit of pre-bedtime costuming with Lulu.

Doing battle

Sunday, October 5, 2014
The Biscuit screamed for 40 minutes this morning because I wanted to put a shirt on her. A FUCKING SHIRT! The shirt she picked out. The shirt she specifically asked me to buy a few days ago even though I despise Hello Kitty.

She yelled and writhed on the floor and threw things like I’d just asked her to gouge her own eyes out. For 40 minutes. What is that? How do I diffuse that?!

When she’s in these modes all she’ll say scream is YES or NO in response to any question attempting to calm things down.

ME: Would you like a different shirt?
HER: NO! (3 seconds later… ) YES!
ME: OK, go choose the shirt you want.
HER: NOOOOOOO! (screaming and writhing continues)

I lose every time during this game so I stop playing and walk away, actively trying to ignore her. This only enrages her more, as if to say “how dare you leave while I’m admonishing you. Have you no respect, foul woman?” It’s ridiculous.

Parker has excellent communication skills with a vocabulary that rivals many 4-year-olds. She knows how to ask for exactly what she wants, how to refuse things she doesn’t and how to do both politely. That’s why it is so hard for me to understand these episodes. In desperation I plead with her: just tell me what’s wrong. That’s usually met with angry defiance. NO!

Toddlers are irrational and it’s my responsibility to remain calm but I am exhausted and upset. I’m so tired of this “terrible” two-year-old that sometimes I wish I could drop her off with one of those British super nannies from TV and retrieve her when she’s ready for kindergarten.

In the meantime, Andy sensed that she was pushing the limits of my sanity and took her out of the house for a while. Bless that man.
Saturday, October 4, 2014

The Biscuit takes a break from adventure to enjoy a lunch of cheesy wagon wheels with meatballs “in my mouth.”
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