I’m trying to remind myself that this is just a stage. This defiance thing. It is a stage. I know it is. It’s a part of developing independence and self-identity.
I walk into the kitchen to Fiona picking the leaves off of our baby plants. “Fiona, no! Stop!” I grab her hands and move them away from the plants. “No. Baby, you can’t pick the leaves. The plants need those to live. They need them to eat.”
“No! I could pick one leaf!” She insists.
“No. No leaves. Do NOT pick leaves.” I order.
“I pick leafs.” She juts her little chin out stubbornly.
“No. No leaves.” I have on my mean Mommy voice and face at this point. Eyebrows are engaged. Don’t mess with me voice is activated.
She reaches for another leaf. I stop her hand, “No!”
“Agghhhh!” She runs screaming from the room.
It’s taking all of my self control right now to just set limits and stick to them. And anytime I set a limit she pushes. And pushes. And pushes. I’m resisting the urge to put on my stompy boots and jump all over this new wave of independence.
This is when a local support network would be very handy. Or gypsies.