The lass is going through a phase. I recognize this phase because the boy went through it long ago. We survived his assault, I reckon we’ll survive her assault.
That doesn’t mean it will be more enjoyable the second time around.
Clearly there comes a point in a young child’s life where they really start to assert independence. Or at least the attempt to. Right now, the lass wants to control every aspect of her existence. What she wears, what she eats, which car she sits in, what games are played, who she plays them with, whether she gets ready for bed before her brother… Think of something and she has an opinion on her role regarding it.
Woe to the people who foolishly choose to stand between her and her desires. Her brother is getting ready for bed first? Tears and screaming- “I want to brush my teeth first!” Wear socks with that outfit? Screaming- “I HATE socks! They never go on my feet right!” (Because, you know, socks aren’t inanimate objects- they are living creatures that go on your feet and then purposely bunch up in her shoes and make her shoes uncomfortable, or worse yet they won’t LET her put them on right.) Eat dinner? Tears and screaming- “I don’t LIKE that MOMMMMMEEEEEE!” She can’t watch TV? Screaming- “You’re the meanest Dad EVER!”
And so it goes. The assault chips away at my sanity. Generally speaking, my decent proceeds in stages. The initial fits I can graciously repel with good humor. But then she’ll continue- same MO, different topic. Usually, I’ll be trying to do something else at the time so my response is more intemperate- not screaming or yelling, but a frustrated kind of “Go deal with this problem yourself.” Eventually she’ll descend to pulling her brother into the fray by pushing his buttons. Now I’ve got them both on me, telling on each other. “He did this Daadddd…” “No, she started it Dadddy…” By this point, I’ve had enough and proceed with a scorched earth policy. Both to their rooms for the rest of their lives- forbidden from speaking, walking and leaving their rooms until otherwise notified. Oh, and stay on your beds- you’re not allowed on the floor.
Ugh.
Of course, by the end of this process, a new more wiley child will have emerged. Hopefully it’s one we can deal with.