No Use Crying Over Spilt Juice & Day 46. 319 Days Left.

“Mommy, I’m going to time out!” I turned to look at Addison, whose juice cup spilled all over and under the sofa and side table. She looked back at me defiantly. “I made a big mess,” gesturing toward her juice cup that was now laying on the floor (while Jackson happily splashed in the puddle). “I am going to time out,” she reiterated. “You…you can’t have a time out,” I stammered “it’s MY job to say when you get a time out – you don’t get to tell ME when you are having one. (By this point Addison already placed herself on the time-out mat (which is really the dog bed), along with her dinosaur and Jackson (who follows behind her every move and I am sure he had a part, other than splashing, in the spilled juice). “Addison, you are not getting a time-out. We need to go wash your hands, rinse off Jackson and you are going to help mommy clean up this mess.” As I am holding Jackson and she is following along to the sink she begins screaming “I want my time-out, I spilled my juice.” I tried to explain the mess was an accident and she did not deserve a time out for an accident-“we all have them“. Well, this made matters worse and she was now in a full fledged meltdown.

I thoughtfully considered what the hell just happened? The spilled juice, the request and her attempt for punishment, my response to her bold demand, all orchestrated by a barely thigh-high child who thinks a snowman is called a “nu-sa.” Meanwhile, I am cursing myself for giving into a three year old by allowing her juice in a cup with a crazy straw rather than giving her a sippy cup. This was my fault; I knew what was going to happen the moment I handed her the juice. Did I really think she was going to listen when I told her “Addison be careful and do not take it to the sofa.”? Why did I give into her request for the lady bug cup? Was it because she was so sick and finally feeling herself or because I wanted to be a “good mommy”? But I am certainly not going to give in to her demand for a time-out. What kind of push over does she think I am?

She is a firecracker. I get it; she is three. She is trying to find her way and establish a sense of self. I like that she’s trying to run circles around me; the key is to not let her know when she has succeeded, or let her see my slight smile of "you-go-girl"approval as I turn away from yet another Addison mini-meltdown.
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Day 46
"Mommy, We Ride"