That’s what Skyler does to me on a daily basis. It seems amplified since having spent almost 24-7 together the last 12 days. I made it back to work yesterday, which was actually a much needed break for me, but then today had childcare fall through and had to stay home with her. Vacation was great and much needed for all of us to get away, but it definitely confirmed to me again that I am meant to be a working mother!
Every morning lately starts with a battle to get her out of her PJ’s and into day clothes. She has this obsession with pajamas (I get it, they are comfy!) and wants to wear them all the time, wherever we go. And I just can’t do that. She’s got a few PJ’s that fit her comfortably still, but are definitely a couple sizes “too small.” She’s so slim that width-wise she still fits in so many baby clothes. She even has a pair of baby capris, 6 – 9 month size, that she wears comfortably as little shorts. So it’s fine for her to wear them around the house but out in public I just can’t do. A 3-year-old in pajamas is not adorable like a baby in pajamas.
If it’s not the pajama battle, we have the “I do it MYSELF!” fights. She wants to do everything herself and is okay at some things, but pretty much slow at all things, and especially in the morning when I’m in a hurry, I don’t have time to wait for her independent accomplishments. And if she even remotely struggles at anything she is attempting by herself, she goes from zero to tantrum in 2.2.
And nowadays, every day is opposite day. Whatever I tell her to do she won’t do, and if I tell her not to, she goes full out at whatever it is. I threaten to take things away if she does “x” one more time, and she taunts me with the same threat.
Me: Skyler, if you don’t put your clothes on, I’ll turn Mickey Mouse off.
Skyler: Turn Mickey Mouse off!
She plays me pretty much every time, and challenges me constantly. And with such a spunky look of fun-loving defiance in her eyes. Until I tackle her and roughly force her in or out of her clothes while she is kicking me and writhing around in anger. It’s so tiring, and makes me feel awful. I don’t like being the bad guy but I feel like that’s all I am lately. It makes motherhood a total drag. I hope to God that these battles now will pay off later, but it’s possible she and I will be doing this for the next 15 years, and it won’t be over pajamas, but probably some other type of inappropriate clothing that she wants to wear in public.
As the story goes, since I just wrote about this, she’ll probably be a perfect angel the rest of the week, because things change that fast around here and always as soon as I’ve put it in writing. Let’s hope that’s the cased this time.