Miss E

Oooh, that girl. She really knows how to grind my gears. Especially when it's freezing rain/snow/sleeting outside and there is no escape from the apartment. And have I mentioned that it's day two of this god-forsaken cleanse? I need some cleansing breaths, I tell you what.

She's going through a really charming phase right now where she flatly refuses to do what I ask...please come over here so I can change your diaper/put on your coat/take off your boots, please stop kicking me/hitting me/rolling over and crawling around while I change your diaper, please stop grabbing Ralph's tail/paws/food...you get the idea. And following her staunch refusal, she proceeds to sound the screeching alarm as soon as there are any consequences to her actions. "I will take it away." I think that's pretty clear. "You will get a time out." I'm not asking her to read my mind here. But as soon as I follow through you would think that I snuck up behind her in a dark alley and took away her favourite blanket while crashing cymbals in her ears.

I'm not up for a fight today. I'm weak, I'm hungry, I'm tired. Grumble, grumble.

At one point this morning I called her Miss E, which she took an immediate liking to. She kept pointing to herself and saying "That's Miss E! Miss E reading a book! Miss E playing with eggs!" It was when she said "Miss E pooped!" about two minutes after I tried to get her to sit on the toilet (to no avail) that I had an idea. What if Miss E is the one who does good stuff, and she only gets to be Miss E when she behaves well?

I'm going to try it. I'll let you know how it goes. Now I'm going to go lie down and enjoy a little peace and quiet before Miss E wakes up from her nap. At least I hope that's who I'll find...