Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Four the Love of God

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, Mini Me is now four. She's so excited, she's been telling everyone from long-lost cousins to the mailman about her new age.

She's quite excited about being four.

I am not so excited about her being four.

Four so far as been pretty sh*tty.

The first week after her birthday (days from her birthday, mind you) I had to take a Mommy Time Out in the cart corrals of two different grocery stores. She had informed me, both times, that since she was now four, she didn't have to ride in the cart.

I asserted my belief that she still needed to.

She countered with an arm cross and a glare.

It went down hill from there.

The Saturday after her birthday, we all piled in the Limo (ha! I found the name for my new van!) to run some errands, and MM did not like her shoes. So, she did what any logical and rational four-year-old would do. She threw a two-and-a-half hour fit. With a 45 minute nap in between to rest up for the second half.

Oh no, I do not like four.

This is the look I get quite often. Only it's with her arms crossed and a lot of whining and foot-stomping.

I don't remember it being like this with the boys. Larry Potter was a good toddler and pre-schooler, it's only since elementary school has his attitude been something to be desired. When Hoover turned four, I was mostly relieved and optimistic that our days of screwdrivers and Poison Control were over. (And they were...for the most part.) I don't remember any truly horrible fits or battle of wills. In fact, I remember four being quite pleasant with them.

And then I had a girl.

And I am now thankful I did not have more girls.

I feel like someone has either flipped a switch or changed my normal, every day brand of daughter with a new brand for some sort of survey from hell. I'd like to keep my original brand, please.

This morning, we had a fight about her clothes. And after that was over, we had a fight about her walking into pre-school by herself. I'm sure when she gets home, we'll have a fight about where to put her backpack or what choices she has for lunch.

I'm tired and it's only 9:30. And she's not here.

Is five going to be any better? Should I start the countdown now? Only 352 more days.

Why didn't anyone warn me about this? Or (please God, no) is it just my daughter?

Moms of girls...help me make it through this year. Because if I can't get a handle at 4, 14 is going to be a real B.

4 comments:

  1. I have 3 daughters and 1 son...I'm just heading into the last 4 year old. I will never have another:-) There is the terrible 2's, which are bad enough...you somewhat get a break with the 3's and then there's, what I like to call, the F'in 4's...Good Luck! Let me know how it turns out for ya:-)

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  2. It is definitely not just your daughter! I have three of them and, unfortunately, it only gets worse. Yesterday, My 9 year old actually packed a suitcase and attempted to run away because she said "You always forget about me anyway!!" Wish I had better news!!! ;)

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  3. Sorry. No. It gets worse. My oldest is 7.5...and while her snits are not like a 2.5 year old tantrums, they are pretty ferkin close. Except her snits set me right off...let's just say now I know why I spent so much time in my room growing up...cuz she is spending the majority of her time in her room these days...

    But hey...take comfort that I am closer to the teen years than you are. And I am terrified.

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  4. More often than not, my daughter and I didn't get along from the moment I could feel her kicking until about the past year or so. She'll be 12 in a couple weeks. We just have such fundamentally incompatible personalities (we're both domineering and bitchy).
    I think it's different with every mom/daughter combo, but for us, it's been REALLY tough sometimes. I find it curious that we only really started to get along after she started displaying tween angst. Remembering the tortures of becoming hormonally unbalanced has made me more patient with her (and made me apologize profusely to my own mother!). The scary changes she's going through have made her more clingy with me than she EVER was before. We snuggle more now, we have actual conversations, we eat junk food together and argue about which guy on Criminal Minds is cuter. I split the car stereo time with her, and she can blast her music if I can blast mine (she now sings along with 'Crazy on You' by Heart! HELL YEAH!) & I actually now sing along with Ke$ha. Strange. We're actually bonding... it's weird!
    I hope it doesn't take as long for you as it has for us, but if it does, just hang in there and remember that it will get better... eventually. (I hope?) Then again, she isn't actually a teen yet, so we may be going for each other's throats like wild dogs within the next couple years. I'm just enjoying this while I can!! I know your time will come too. :)

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