This morning began just as every Monday begins.... my alarm clock goes off and I groan, Dean groans, and the dog nestles deeper under her blankets and snores. The process of getting five people dressed and out the door starts despite the protests. We like to let Blair sleep as long as possible to avoid the morning drama that goes along with her just waking up. Today we didn't have to wake her, she got up on her own. I was in the kitchen cleaning up after Layne's breakfast when I heard, "Hi Mommy. I had sweet dreams last night. I love you.". Music to my ears. There she was, blanket in one arm, rubbing her eyes and smiling. These are the sweet moments that I have to remember while we are in the midst of a showdown. She then inquired about what she was going to wear to school today (my cue to brace myself). I told her it was hanging on the ironing board, and off she went skipping (skipping = GREAT mood) down the hall to check it out.
And it begins......
Within minutes, I hear stomping feet coming down the hall accompanied by a pouty whimper (pouty whimper = nails on chalkboard to Mommy). This child's moods can flip as fast as someone can turn on and off lights using a switch. With her hand on her hip (head shaking) she looks at me and says, "Are you (pause) serious? I don't like that outfit and I tell you that EVERY time you make me wear it. Are you trying to make me look like a lollipop?". "No Sweetie, I just thoroughly enjoy torturing you with poor outfit selections." My sarcastic response won me the "Blair look". (If you know my child, you know this look and I am often of the receiving end of it whereas others are just mere witnesses.) This outfit is a white fleece jacket and bottoms with different shades of pink and green lollipops (very warm and comfortable). I tell her to get over it I lived through my mom torturing me the same way and I survived. (I again received her signature look) She stomped back to her room mumbling something about her friends laughing at her, at which point I tuned her out so I wouldn't feel so guilty about sending a lollipop to school. The protesting subsided (highly unusual for her), so I continue cleaning up the kitchen and packing the girls' school bags. Then the sounds from her bedroom start, not wailing and screaming but talking, almost like cheering. In my foggy state of mind (I am only functioning with three cups of coffee at this point), I am secretly holding out hope that she has decided to be happy about the clothing selection (see, still somewhat delusional too). I head to her room to see if things are okay only to find her waving her outfit in front of our dog's face, saying "Come on Livvie, get it, get it girl. You know you want to play. Please help me Livvie. I don't want to wear this. I'll give you a cookie.". Oh yes, my crafty child was trying to bribe our innocent cocker spaniel into eating her outfit so she wouldn't have to wear it today. Thankfully, our dog isn't that stupid.
We made it to school this morning, wearing the outfit that caused such issues (Mommy-1 Blair-0). My 5 year old "teenager", with her dramatic flair, walked into school telling me what a bad decision I had made for her but still gave me a hug before I left and told me how much she loves me (she may be trying to soften me up for tomorrow morning). I guess I should start getting used to this because I have a feeling that it is only going to get worse.
Disclaimer: I was informed over the weekend that I am being far too kind in the way that I portray Blair in these stories. I will chalk it up to 1) Mommy amnesia (maybe) and 2) I want this child to marry some day and move out of my house. If I divulge too much, I may scare off any potential mates.
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