Mom Always Liked You Better!

The Smothers Brothers...I was too young to watch them, but I do remember their tag line.  In this case, I'm not talking about my own siblings, but my own little darlings. 

I've heard parents of 2 or more kids talking about how from time to time, they like one of their children better...that they prefer the company of one of their children over the other one.  Notice I didn't say, and never said that they LOVE one of their kids more--lest you think I'm some monster.  I never thought it would happen to me.  Not me!  I love both of my children the same!  They are both delicate and unique snowflakes that bring joy and light to my world.

Eh. Wrong.

Right now, I am having a really hard time being around Bay.  She is still the funny, goofy, adorable, smart little girl that I love with every fiber of my being...but ZOMFSM, she is a challenge.  She's headstrong and she's definitely hit her "threes".  She needs to do everything herself, gets ragingly pissed-off when she can't do whatever it is that she's doing immediately, but then won't let me help her.  However, if Babe attempts to step in and take over, she freaks the fuck out about that.  Her tantrums are of epic proportions--we're talking throwing herself down, screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking, punching, biting-type tantrums.  And, for the last couple weeks, she's been insisting that she sleep with her light on, which is fine, I guess, but I don't think she's sleeping all that well and the other night, she was up 5 times between midnight and 5, one of the times she asked for a fricking waffle. <insert WTF face>

Of course, I'm busy, and stressed, so I'm handling her behavior, um...not so well.  I get pissed because she's being cranky and frankly, I don't want to deal with her.

Which, of course, leads me to my whole point.  Boo?  He's been frelling awesome lately--he started Kindergarten, which he adores, he's stopped freaking out when he gets in trouble, he doesn't fight (much) about homework, he even woke himself up last week and got himself completely dressed.  It's like, "Who the hell is this kid?"  So, of course I find myself enjoying hanging out with Boo...he can tell me what's bothering him, rather than dissolving into a pile of tears and shrieks; he is, for the most part, rational; he doesn't feel the need to argue with me every time I say something.  It's just more pleasant.

What, you may be asking, is the whole point of this?  Not sure.  To assure others in the same boat that they're not alone?  To seek reassurance that I'm not a horrible mother because I feel this way?  Probably yes on both counts.

I just have to keep telling myself that we'll move past this stage, and about the same time Bay is over the threes, Boo will be hitting 7 and 8, in which he'll probably want nothing to do with his mom, and their roles will be reversed.

Which, of course, will be a completely different post.

Grrrl Power, What?

The few times in my young-adult life I actually imagined that I'd have kids (you know, when I wasn't spouting, "I take care of other people's kids all damn day, why would I want/need my own?") I figured I'd have a girl.

Being the former grungy, mosh pit-crashing, pierced, tatooed, Liz Phair/Alanis Morissette/Insert Other Angry Female Band and/or Singer-Songwriter Here-listening, knocking people over on the soccer field-playing chick that I am, I figure I'd teach my daughter all about "Girl Power".  Not this "Spoil me and buy me things because I'm a spoiled bitch and I deserve it," crap that the media is spouting as acceptable behavior these days, but the "I'm Courtney Love and while I'm drugged to the gills and I'm not wearing any underwear, I'm still gonna wail on this guitar and blow your mind and if you don't like it, fuck you!" kind of way.

So, I grow up (I guess...) have a girl, and while she does keep up with the boys in terms of wreaking havoc on the neighborhood...

She. Loves. Pink.

And princesses, and ballerinas, and Barbie. FUCKING BARBIE!!! I think I owned one Barbie growing up and I most likely cut her hair and colored it with markers.

What the heck do I do with a little girl like this?  Granted, I've gotten a bit more girly as I've gotten older--gone are the days of me wearing jeans and a t-shirt and calling it good.  However, I'm still not the frilly, lacy, princessy mom that knows what to do with my little girl when she tells me that she wants to be a princess when she grows up.

Of course, this is still the girl that smacked the crap out of Boo this weekend with a wooden sword, and more often than not, she's picking up a random stick-shaped object, waves it around and tells me that she's "fighting bad guys".  So, I guess I allow the pink-tinted dreams and hope that when she beats the crap out of some guy for pissing her off, she doesn't dent her tiara too badly.