A Princess Gone Bad

The Terrible Twos have arrived right on schedule.

Heather and I have had our ups and downs. From the time she was born until she was about 15 months old, Heather hardly slept a wink. Which means I hardly slept a wink, as well. Then, at around that time, her sleeping patterns began to regulate, and so did mine, and I was able to appreciate my little sweetheart so much more.

It was a nice few months, but the honeymoon is over.Ever since turning two, she has become a feisty, angry, tantrum-throwing little devil. I love her to pieces, but these days, when evening rolls around, I can't wait to put her to bed and be done for the day. Bedtime is a hard won battle on my part. Getting pajamas on her is a wrestling match. She screams and cries the whole time, "No Mommy! No Mommy! DOWNSTAIRS!" and if we had neighbors, they'd probably call the police.

Her favorite thing to say to her brothers is "Gimme."

She loves to say, "Poopy diaper," even when there isn't one. When she tells it to Wes, he says, "Go tell Mommy." He doesn't think I know about that.

Ever since Estelle was here she likes to sit on the potty all the time but has no idea what to do about it.

She insists on brushing her own teeth, but mostly just eats the toothpaste and chews on the bristles.

She won't let me help wash her hands but the slippery bar of soap keeps leaping out of her fingers. I showed her how to use the pump soap, which became an amusement to her and a disaster for me.

This morning, getting ready to take Wayne to school, I put her neck-warmer on her and she immediately took it off and threw it across the room. Then she began to cry and reach for it as if she wanted it. I picked it up and started to put in back on her, but she grabbed it from me saying, "No. Me." Apparently she wanted to put it on herself so I watched her struggle to get it down over her head for several minutes before pulling it down over myself, which caused her to refuse to let me put on her jacket, hat, and mittens. Cole was even ready before she and I were.

I do take a tiny bit of comfort in knowing that this independent and frustrating stage is a sign of her exploding mental capacity. She's been talking more and more everyday. This morning she got up at 6:00 and decided to draw a picture. She got a piece of paper out of the computer printer and then was looking in the pantry drawer for a pencil. I helped her find one, and she said, clear as a bell, "Thank you for that pencil."