Dinnertime is testy and bath time is awash with tears. Assuming I even bother. Z refuses to wear pajamas (and most clothes, for that matter) because they're so uncomfortable.
I can't get her to sit on the potty before bed for love or money. The whole nighttime routine has, for no apparent reason, become a high-stakes battleground. My sweet 3 1/2 year old household ally has been transformed into a whiny, defiant little rogue nation intent on challenging me at every turn.
Why has my daughter declared war, and where exactly is this leading? I can't exactly draw up a peace accord with a tiny irrational dictator (who really shouldn't be doing any dictating). But as tempting as it's been, I refuse to go George Bush on her ass and exert my power with force. As tempting as it may be.
Anyone want to come and practice some mother-daughter diplomacy? Supernanny, I'm looking at you.
