Z is usually a sweet kid. Who loves her sister. And listens to reason.
But not tonight! From the moment I walked in the door until 10 minutes before bed, I played mother to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde...in platinum blond curls. Mostly Dr. Jekyll, what with tear-streaked face, the screaming "I don't want you to nurse Baby A! It takes too long!" and "Put her down, hold me!" and the "Put me to bed first!" and the "Read me stories! Now! No, on this couch."
Throw in some not-so-gentle squishing of her baby sister's head, kicking of mommy's shins and excusing herself from time-out before she'd cooled off, and you'll know why I'm doubly thrilled that at least she didn't protest bedtime.
I don't know if she was overly hungry, reacting to something she ate, or just in a foul mood, but I'm hoping she'll behave better tomorrow. Someone once told me that kids tantrum for their parents because they're comfortable losing control with them. Cold comfort indeed.
Perhaps it's time I read Ask Moxie's recommendation: Your Three-Year-Old: Friend or Enemy.
