Maybe this one?
I remember thinking they were clever and hilarious when I first saw them --- I laughed my head off.
Lately, they've been brought to my memory in a different way...
In a toddler way.
Because I've come to an unsettling conclusion. My kid? She's a bona fide Sour Patch Kid.
Viv is officially three in a month. And you guuuuuuuuys....I thought 2 year olds were supposed to be bad. but no. THREE! I'm convinced it will be the death of me, for real.
As she gets closer and closer to turning three, the more threenager-y she becomes. (because threenagers are a thing, don't you know?)
Moody. Dramatic. Emotional. Mean. Sweet. Funny. Kind. Considerate. Bratty.
I mean, from one second to the next, we are taking major mood swings over here. She's playing the game, and she's playing it hard.
CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING:
The other morning we were in our usual rush to get breakfasted, bundled and out to the car to get to the gym on time. I was at the counter making a snack for Viv to take to her class while she sat on the floor doing a Mickey Mouse puzzle. Two times I had asked her to stop doing said puzzle to get her boots and coat on. Exasperated on the 3rd time, I snapped at her and gave her the choice of puzzle in the trash or boots on. At that finality, she glared up at me with her little signature stink face she has going on lately and slowly, deliberately says..."I......hate you.".
I spin around with an incredulous look on my face, asking her to repeat what she had just said.
And she did. "I hate you."
Demanding to know where she heard that, she defiantly says "myself!", and watches for a reaction from me. Literally, I have no idea where she heard that phrase, but I could tell as she said it that she was unsure what it meant and if it would get her in trouble. So she tested me, and she relished in it.
Anyway, After a talk about feelings and a time out until her little hard wall of pride let down enough for an "I'm sorry", I asked her to get her boots on again. She obediently walked out to the steps outside our door and proceeds to fly into the kitchen, yelling, "Mom!! you bring dees boots for me?! THANK YOU MAMA! You da best evah!!" and she gives my leg a big hug --
Just as I can't resist Sour Patch Kids, I can't resist this ridiculously, infuriatingly funny stage of sweet, bratty, limit-pushing sass face Viv.
V: "Mom, I don't like any people" *stink face, mean snort, violent head shake*
M: "Viv, You don't have to like everyone, but that's not a very nice thing to say."
V: "Oh! Oh! Mama, I just teasing, I wuv evybody. Ok? Ok!"
Lately we've been discussing a lot about how the things we say make other people feel - hurting people's feelings by saying mean things, or making them feel happy when we say nice things....and how it makes us feel when people say certain things to us (and, side note: she has manipulated these lessons severely with any discipline we give her. If we raise our voice at her at all, or if we tell her to do something that she doesn't like/want to do, she dramatically trudges to the other parent with a quivery lip, declaring that "mommy make me feel baaaaad!").
yes. we are definitely winning all the parenting awards over here.
ANYWAY, she's say stuff like:
V: Mom, I say dis a mean way!
M: ok, what's the mean way to say that?
V: NO!! I DON'T WANT TO! STOP. BUGGING. ME!!! *cue brattiest voice ever*
M: Ya, that's not very nice is it. What's the nice way to say that?
V: *dramatically sweet voice overhaul* oh, no thanks, I don't want to talk right now.
So this, in itself, proves to me that she does in fact know when she's being nice and mean, and that she very much chooses to do one or the other, and not only that, is very aware of the fact that these differing choices have consequences. She knows this! It blows my mind, because DEFIANCE!!
At any injustice or mistake on my part, I get this face:
and a, "MOMMY. BEARD!!! you in BIG TROUBLE! GO TO YOUR ROOM! I LOCK DA DOOR AND SET TIMER FOR TWOOOOOO NINUTES!
(let the record show that I do not yell at her as much as it must seem and I definitely don't lock her door...)
And one more winner from today after I told her she couldn't watch her beloved Mickey Mouse Clubhouse movie (but dad told her she could, unbeknownst to me...):
After crying to Dale and him telling her he would talk to me about it, she storms in my room with a bratty glare on her face, nose squished up, eyes squinted, throwing daggers my direction. She says loudly,
"I MAD! I SO MAD!"
I ignore her and keep playing with Mo.
She continues walking towards me, huffing and puffing, glaring all the way until she reaches Mo, and LITERALLY her whole demeanor changes. her eyebrows unknit themselves, a big grin replaces her scowl and she says in her special baby voice she saves especially for her brother,
"Oh Mo! Don't worry. I not mad at you, honey!" Pats cheeks. Gives him a kiss.
Jerks her head towards me, knit eyebrows, glaring eyes, mean face and says, '
"I MAD AT MOMMY." Grunt. Satisfaction. That'll teach her to deny me Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
A Sour Patch Kid.
I wish it wasn't so damn cute, then I might actually want to do something about it.