Getting ready to take the kids to school yesterday, I tried to put Brooklyn's coat on her.
"I don't wanna coat!" she screamed.
"You have to wear a coat. It's cold outside. It's snowing," I stupidly tried to reason with her.
"I don't want it!"
"Tough. Come here." I held up her coat and motioned for her to come put her arms in.
"Brooklyn..." I said in my warning tone.
"No! I don't wanna coat!"
I grabbed her and started stuffing her arms into the sleeves. As soon as I got her right arm in and moved onto the left, she pulled the right arm out. I jammed her right arm in and she pulled out the left arm.
"Brooklyn, knock it off!" I yelled. The kids were going to be late for school and here she was screaming and squirming around like I was torturing her.
This continued for a couple minutes until I lost it and swatted her butt. Of course, she didn't feel a thing because the stubborn girl still wears a diaper and probably will until she goes to high school. All it did was make her more mad and cause her scream even louder.
I ended up picking her up, her coat hanging from one arm, and carrying her kicking, flailing, wailing body out to the car. After a 5 minute wrestling match, I got her strapped into her car seat. She screamed her head off the whole way to school. On the bright side, her screaming distracted the other kids from fighting and calling each other names for once.
Then she screamed the whole way home. I unbuckled her and carrying her kicking, flailing, wailing body back inside. The minute I set her down, she kicked off her shoes, tore off her coat and ran back outside. It was 20 degrees and snowing. I let her sit there in the front porch for a minute thinking she'd snap out of it and come back inside immediately. I was wrong. Don't underestimate that girl's stubbornness.
Although I briefly considered letting someone call DCFS on me so they'd come take her away for a little while, I opted to drag her screaming butt back inside. Know what finally calmed her down? Bribing her with gum? Nope. Putting a movie on my little TV for her? Nope. Locking her in the girls' room? Nope. I didn't do any of those things. I picked her up, kissed her forehead and said. "I love you." She instantly stopped crying, looked at me, sniffed a couple times and said, "I love you more, more, more."
"Sheesh! That's all it took to calm you down??? Do you know this is why you're my last baby?"
"I not a baby!" came her indignant reply.
Oh great. Here we go again...