Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Tony sometimes jokingly refers to Bailey as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Sinister, yes, but sometimes her mood swings are so hot and cold it's hard to criticize him. I know I've said it before, but I am truly terrified of her teenage years.

Already, at age 5, she has learned to threaten things. I can't count the number of times in the past week when I have heard her say to Michael, "I'm going to tell Mommy to spank your bum if you don't stop." It makes me crazy. I keep telling her that's not how it works.

Just yesterday, Michael wasn't playing with a puzzle the way she wanted him to. She wanted him to pretend the pieces were cookies, and when he wouldn't do it, she said, "Fine. Then I'm throwing it away." When I wouldn't let her throw his puzzle away, she said that I just didn't understand what she was trying to do and that when she grows up she is moving in a different house that me and Michael won't live in and that she was taking the puzzle with her. It was all I could do to fight the tears, not so much about the puzzle, because that part almost made me grin, picturing her a grown woman carrying this toddler puzzle into a house with a spiteful look on her face. But it did hurt, and I almost cried.

There is also at least once a day this week when she has had to sit in her room for screaming, and I mean the neighbors-probably-heard-her type of screaming, at the top of her lungs at Michael to "STOP." Stop what, you ask? Anything. Getting too close to her, her toys, not doing what she wants him to do, dancing, playing by himself if she wants him to play something with her. She screams so loudly right in his face that he bursts into tears and runs for me. I don't blame him.

She may be getting the idea, though. Today, I heard Michael start running toward the kitchen, where I was, and then I heard her say in a voice that was just a little too high-pitched to be genuine, "what's the matter? Do you want to play? You can play too." I think he was coming to tell on her, but when she asked if he wanted to play, he nodded, turned, and ran right back to her. 

Then there are times when she is so sweet I am almost in tears for the completely opposite reason. One night this week, Michael was whimpering in the middle of the night. I didn't go in there right away because he wasn't really crying, and I thought he was going to put himself back to sleep. Then he started really crying so I got up to go in there.

I looked into Bailey's room as I passed her door but didn't see her in bed. I assumed I just hadn't realized she was in our bed. When I opened Michael's door, however, she was laying on the floor beside his bed patting his back. When I went in and kneeled down beside her, she asked in a sleepy sweet voice, "Why is he crying, Mommy?" and then laid there until I calmed him down again.

Last night we put up the Christmas tree, and anyone who has done this with children old enough to "help" knows that this can sometimes be a trying experience. There were a couple moments when they were a little too excited and got into some trouble, and it was getting close to bedtime anyway. When we finished for the night, Bailey ran around shutting off all the lights and just went and sat in front of the tree and stared at it. I went and sat beside her and she said, "we made a beautiful tree, didn't we?" And everything was right in the world.