The back talk around our house has hit an all time high. Upon being told anything she doesn’t want to hear, E is quick with a sassy little come back.
“If you send me to my room then I’m just gonna play wif my toys.”
“I don’t have to take a nap because I already just took one yesterday.”
“If you give my bear to my sister then I’m gonna take it back and push her down to the floor.”
“If you put that on my plate then I’m gonna take it off and frow it on the ground.”
I’m about ready to drop her in the nearest snow bank and after the 20 inches we got the other weekend, there are plenty to choose from.
Today was no different. A plethora of attitude filling her 3 foot frame as she stands head cocked to one side and hand on hip dictating how I should drop everything I’m doing and get her “stwwaberry milk in the pink cup wif the purple top but DON’T shake it Momma because I want to do that part.”
Only a slight eye roll from me because I’m learning to pick my battles. After being told that as soon as I was off the phone, done changing her sister’s diaper and had a chance to clean up the rest of lunch, then “Yes I would be happy to get you strawberry milk…if I can hear a please.”
Nodding her little blond head she agrees, “I suppose that’s ok Momma. But if I have to wait, then I want to get Puff corn too.”
Knowing this could turn into the World War 3, I get off the phone and calmly grab her shrieking sister and tackle her down to change her diaper. Armed with diapers, wipes ream, and whatever remaining patience I can muster I hunker down for the good fight.
“No. You can have milk but you are not eating puff corn. You just told me you were finished with lunch.”
P wriggles and squirms as I encircle her and struggle undo her pant snaps without getting assaulted by her flailing legs.
“But, I’m hungry” E wails.
“I would be too if all I ate was cheese and ½ a sandwich for lunch.”
P archers her back and contorts to one side as I finally free her legs.
“But I need puff corn.”
“No, you need to eat good-for-you food not just puff corn.”
I quickly open up P’s diaper to be ambushed by smell that burns my nostrils like napalm. I quickly re-latch of her diaper and turn to grab an artillery of wipes.
“But puff corn is good for me and it makes my tummy happy.”
“Well the apples and corn that you chose not too eat also make your tummy happy so if you are still hungry you can eat those.”
Diaper is off and P screeches, firmly plants feet to the floor, and kicks her butt up and down as I try not to breathe through my nose while I wipe her clean.
“But I want puff corn, instead” E complains, her whine as shrill as a 50′s bomb siren.
“No, honey.” I say with tactical sweetness.
P begins to twist and squirm so I enlist my feet to help pin her to the floor.
“Yes puff corn” E stamps her tiny little size 7 foot dramatically.
“No puff corn.”
The baby squeals as my toes flank her neck to tickle her chin.
“YES PUFF CORN”
P giggles as I maneuver around flailing limbs to coat her bumper in diaper cream.
But….” You can see her little brain searching for ammunition.
A slight eyebrow raise from me as I wonder what she is going to launch at me next.
Diaper is in place and through one last ditch effort the P escapes as I secure dirty wipes within the poop-filled diaper.
“If you won’t let me eat puff corn…” she pauses to contemplate her last strategic measure.
“Yessss?” I ask waiting for the final desperate charge, as I wrestle the pants back on the baby.
Baby is clean and has been released from captivity as I turn to kneel face to face with my tiny foe.
Her eyes light up for a second and then narrow as her final battle plan has been conceived.
“Then I will eat my boogers instead.”
* The Husband’s only comments on this post were “So…what is the nutritional value of a booger?”