It is early morning and I am feeding two tired toddlers their breakfast. This particular morning I had to wake them up from their deep slumber. This seems to be happening more and more now that it is still dark when I have to get them up. While TheMonk seems to adapt fine once he’s awake. With Swee’Pea? Not so much.
Breakfast time, I have down to a science. We do a bowl of oatmeal followed by some fruit and, finally, yogurt. They know this. This is our routine and most days it is a welcome routine for everyone. Not so today.
From the very moment we sit down Swee’Pea begins to
whine cry scream that she wants yogurt. NOW.
In our household we do not encourage screaming by giving in. No, we keep politely insisting that Swee’Pea ask in a calm, nice voice if she wants something. Screaming will NOT get you want you want. (TheMonk thinks we’re crazy. It’s not uncommon for me to look over him while his sister is screaming and the expression on his face so clearly says, “Give her the damn yogurt, already.)
Today Swee’Pea is not going to ask for anything in a calm voice.
I pretend I’m in charge and I give TheMonk his oatmeal and try and help Swee’Pea get started on hers. Oatmeal, in case you were wondering, is NOT yogurt. This becomes evident to me because the volume in which she was screaming “I WANT YOGURT!!!!” is hard to ignore. She is right. It isn’t yogurt.
I do manage to calm her down enough to get her to eat her oatmeal but it isn’t easy. After every few bites of oatmeal (pronounced, in our house, “eatmilmull”) she screams again about wanting yogurt. You know, in case I have forgotten.
We finally get through the oatmeal and I give her a small amount of fruit in an effort to make this phase go by quickly so she can finally get her beloved yogurt. This plan works as she scarfs down a couple of sliced apple pieces.
FINALLY. We get to the yogurt. Swee’Pea knows this. She sees me pull out the container of yogurt and I can tell she is excited. Her eyes lock on to the container and she waits as I approach with spoon in hand. I dip the spoon into the container and come up with the… perfect bite. She knows this is what she has been craving since the moment she woke up that morning. She is finally going to taste the yogurt. After 15 minutes of screaming, I’m finally going to be able to make my daughter happy. I have done my part in being resolute but now I can revel in the happiness that this bite of yogurt will give my beautiful little girl.
I guide the spoon to her lips as I anticipate her ravenously swallowing the entire amount.
Except the girl won’t open her mouth.
“Don’t you want yogurt, Swee’Pea?” I ask.
She replies in a manner that suggests I should know what the answer is going to be.
“No.” she says firmly.
The teenage years are going to kill me, aren’t they?
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