Girls… Maybe, We’re Just Born This Way

I recall a conversation I had with another mother while still pregnant with Man.  I already knew that I was having a boy, and she already had both a boy and a girl.  We began discussing which was the more difficult sex, “Girls, girls are much harder, S just sort of goes with the flow, but I can cream cheese A’s bagel wrong and it’s as if I have committed a crime.”  I silently thanked God for giving me a boy.

Flash forward about four and a half years and her statement rings so true that I’m ready to stop buying cream cheese.  Man was challenging in his own way and certainly had his toddler tantrum moments; but Lady, Lady is like nothing I have ever seen before.  Suddenly, she turned two and decided it was time to start losing her shit over nothing and everything.  It’s almost as if it were genetically predisposed; one day I said “no” and she just dropped to the floor, little hands and feet banging, while she screamed at the top of her lungs.  My husband and I just looked at each other and laughed, wasn’t this behavior only seen in movies?

I guess art imitates life, because we’re not really laughing anymore.

She's so fancy

She’s so fancy

Here are just a few things that can send her into tantrum mode:

Man has a toy in his hand.

Man flushed his poopy before she got to see it and give it a proper farewell.

I dried the peach I just washed for her.

She wanted the clip on the other side of her head.

She didn’t want the clip at all.

I wouldn’t let her touch Man’s penis.

I wouldn’t let her put random objects in her vagina (rocks, toys, food, etc.).

She wants the entire jar of vitamins, not just one.

She wants water from a “Cars” cup, not a red one.

I won’t let her dump the bubble mixture out on the kitchen floor.

I won’t let her hit other children.

I make her wear clothes.

She doesn’t want hugs and kisses from Man.

She is in desperate need of hugs and kisses from Man.

I won’t let her eat raw food.

I won’t let her paint the couch with her ice pop.

Her banana broke in half.

I won’t let her put lipstick up her nose.

I won’t let her pee standing up.

Her polka for jammies just won’t do, she needs the flamingo ones.

Her dog pooped on the floor at the vet.

She wants to wear her “pack pack” (back pack) but it’s too heavy because she insisted on packing six outfit changes for camp.

I won’t let her pee on the kitchen floor, carpet, my bed, Man’s bed…

She’s not allowed in the Gorilla enclosure at the zoo.

She’s ready to leave for camp but it’s only 6AM.

No one is coming over and she has to play with me all afternoon.

The dog won’t lick her.

I tried to help her.

She wants to eat dinner off of the floor and I insisted that she sit at the table.

She’s not allowed to “dot dot” her naked body.

She’s not allowed to take her friends clothes off.

The oven is on.

She disagrees, it is not nap time and she is not tired.

"I NOT TIRED!"

“I NOT TIRED!”

Does this stage end?  Will she once again be the obedient little angel she used to be?  God, I hope so, if not I’m going to have to stock up on wine and ear plugs!!

What throws your daughter into a frenzy?

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