The battle is won, the war continues

I would like to document, for prosperity and the good of my brain, the events of the evening of Tuesday, April 1. And while this is a long frickin' story, it is no joke people!

The family was having "catch-as-catch-can" for dinner. AKA- when your hungry, eat what you want. At approximately 6:15 pm, Brianna decided it was time to pick her dinner. This is no easy feat when mommy won't let you have plain noodles (because it takes to long to cook). So Brianna stands in the door to the pantry. And she swings the pantry door. And she hangs on the pantry door. And she bangs the door into the refrigerator. And she accidentally bangs the door in to Grant. And she hangs on the door some more. All while muttering "hmmmm".

Mommy is getting annoyed so I calmly got down on one knee, held Brianna's shoulders gently to get her attention, and said "Please stop playing with the door".

Brianna says "OK Mommy."

Within 3 seconds flat, she is playing with the door. Now, rationally, I know she isn't doing it on purpose, she probably doesn't even realize. However, she knows better and I am getting really annoyed now.

I again took her by the shoulders and asked her to repeat after me. "I won't play with the door". She silently refused.

I tried to explain that mommy has already asked her once and she knew better. Silent refusal with some wiggling.

I explained that if she says the words I will know she heard me. I explain that I need her to be a "good listener" and say the words. Enter lots of wiggling and angry face. She says angrily, "I'll say it if you let go of me". I let go, she runs away silently.

Perhaps I will summarize a little here... I am pissed! I take her shoulders again, progressing to a baby like cradle hold when squirming becomes thrashing. For about 10 minutes I hold her and repeat calmly that she can get up when she says " I won't play with the door". She cries. She screams. She makes the angry grunting noise and shoots daggers with her eyes. (Meanwhile Grant thinks this is alternately fun and wants his turn, or he screams because I am not paying attention to him.)

From the kitchen floor we progressed to the "time-out" spot. I instruct a crying Brianna to think about being a good listener and I'll be back when she's ready to say the words. Every 2-3 minutes for the next 30 minutes, I check on her. She does some fake crying, she sneaks out of time out to see the TV, she says shes ready and then refuses to say it, she says it in her meanest voice and yells at me.

People, this was not fun. This was torture.

Eventually I won. She said the words nicely and around 7:15 settled in to some Cheerios for dinner. Holy *&%#.

I think I may start researching boarding schools. If this is 4, I am not looking forward to 14!