Don't be fooled. This is not the face of sweetness. This is the look that says "I win" in no uncertain terms. It is the thin-lipped countenance of determined celebration; the knowing gaze of understanding.
The expression of delight in a job well done: she's successfully trained her parents, (*ahem, cough-sputter* read: mother) to acquiesce to her desire to keep her hair from EVER touching water.
Oh sure, she will get in the tub. Constant work and ample bribery have guaranteed her willingness to splash around with an ever-growing army of bath toys, combed from all four corners of our humble abode before each and every submersion.
By the time I've coaxed her in by telling her that I'm not going to wash her hair "right now," her mental time clock starts ticking. She washes between her toes and scrubs behind her ears, but when it comes time to wash the back of her neck she starts to squirm for the towel and an end to "baftime."
Obviously this is a "mommy matter ... a maternal failing," as I am routinely in charge of cleaning up the kid -- proof that I am unable or unwilling to deal with a struggling-soapy-squealy squidlet yelling 'I’m ALL DONE here!' as she scrambles out of my grasp.
The man in our life, after all, has it all down. He was even able to talk her out of taking home a pillow-shaped bag of Fruit Loops from the grocery store, averting a disastrous outburst by simple substitution.
When he handed me a happy toddler carting a box of plain-jane Rice Chex instead of sugar-packed puffs, I had to ask: "How did you manage that?"
"I said 'NO'."
3 comments:
thats one expressive face your little girl has!
I'm thinking 'bundle of energy'?
:)
That IS a cute picture. I understand your quandary, for it's a battle I forge every day. Not over hair washing, but whatever cause of Gabe's choosing he wishes to adopt on that particular day. Now, it's taking off his shoes. I could not take off his shoes for ANY reason and we battled. Oh did we battle, until I finally couldn't handle it diplomatically anymore and said, "No shoes ever again, if you don't let me take them off now for your bath and bed." It worked, even though it wasn't something I could really enforce (which I realized the second the words were out of my mouth). Luckily, he loves his shoes enough that risking losing them forever was too much of a risk for him, and he conceded bath and bedtime shoe removal. I wish you luck. Sometimes the stubbornness is so frustrating, but I find myself hoping it means that the child will grow up to be less susceptible to peer pressure. I'm hoping...
Uhg. ... Shoes. We go through that, too. She is currently sleeping in and refusing to wear anything other than her purple Merrills. ... She had a meltdown at the shoe store the otherday when "Ama" tried to buy her a new pair of summer sandles. She wouldn't even take them off long enough to try on a new pair.
I keep trying to tell myself this, too, shall pass.
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