Oh my little button pusher!

This child is completely cut from my mold... this I know. My parents remind me with every phone call home. Paybacks a Bitch.

Last night I got home to a happy sweet little girl playing outside with Grandma and other friends. Bubbles were plentiful and so were smiles!

Then Grandma had to go home.

And we had to go inside to eat.

That's when it all began.

I knew Kinsley was getting tired to I skipped the BIG dinner and gave her what she really wanted, Gerber Pasta pick ups (seriously i would LOVE to plant a big ol' kiss on whoever created those!). After one bowl was gone she nicely asked for MOOOORE! So I made it and brought it to her. She was halfway through when she decided she was done. But, instead of telling me she's done (LIKE SHE USED TO DO) so decided to throw her fork across the table like she's in a knife throwing contest and dump out her remaining dinner onto the table.

I tell her very firmly that's a NO NO and we do NOT throw things. I put the pasta back into the bowl and go to bend and pick up her fork when she grabs the bowl again and this time tosses it contents into the air. It is now raining pasta (much to the Dogs fortune).

I'm at a loss right now (because this is the first of many other trials from this evening) and I grab her hand and "Pop" it and say NO MAME! We DO NOT throw our food! NO NO! So what does my spawn of Satan darling child do? Does she cry like a normal child would? OH NO! That would be letting Momma win!

NO, Kinsley plays in the pasta juice and then claps her hands like she's spanking herself. She's Mocking me!

After she grabs her milk and chucks that too (within seconds of spanking herself) I snatch her up and place her on the other side of the gate and tell her to get upstairs, it's time for nite nite. (I know, well done Erin, telling a 17month old to go to her room, riiiiight).

I grab the basket of laundry I still need to put away in her room and march past her, and her now tears of angst, up the stairs and start folding and putting away her laundry.

Eventually she makes it up the stairs (I know, mother of the year award here...but she's REALLY good at stairs now, really!), quite happily and bounces into her room like nothing is wrong.

She plays with her shoes for a while. Then, THEN she starts taking the laundry I just folded and FLINGS it around the room. "NO NO", I tell her again, "We need to help Momma, not mess up things". So she giggles and does it again. Now, learning from downstairs, I tell her that if she does it again she will go to timeout in her crib. She does it again, WHILE looking me in the eye the WHOLE time. Oh yeah it's the Okay Corale and I'm Wyatt Earp and she's one of the Clantons. And we all know who won THAT showdown!

So as she's crying off and on in her crib I fold laundry.  She'll stop, randomly scream/cry/grunt at me, then cry again. After like MAYBE 2 minutes i get her out, hug her. Tell her I love her but she needs to listen to Momma.

She then sits down and helps me fold laundry... while slapping my leg.

I think I won?

I'll tell you what though, if when she's ever bad again, I'll tell her she better stop or she's going to give herself a spanking!