Napoleon

My daughter's nickname is Napoleon.

I think I knew, vaguely, that having a two year old is hard. I used to nanny and I have foggy recollections of temper tantrums and negotiations, but at the end of the day, I went home and didn't really have to deal with the parenting aspect of a two year old.

Now I'm a parent of a two and a half year old. And she is a dictator.

We started calling her Napoleon as a joke, just my husband and I. (For those of you not up on your history, while he was a tyrant, Napoleon also did alot of good for France. Just not for the rest of Europe.)

My daughter is small for her age, but she has personality in spades. And she is a natural leader. She runs around, ordering her friends, stuffed animals, baby dolls, brother, and parents, here and there. Our life has become a litany of: "No, you sit here. I sit there." "No, don't put pony tails in my hair." "You very naughty. You on TIME OUT!" "Guys! Come this way, guys." "No, don't touch that, brother!" when he has only looked at her crayon, juice cup, toy, book, and has made absolutely no move toward it. Yet.

I know I shouldn't feed the tyranical beast that she is becoming, but it's so darn cute when she puts her hands on her hips, with her pony tails askew, eyes flashing, and demands, "Not water. JUICE."

Still we are trying to break her of her dictatorial habits. She has to say "May I please..." before she asks for something. She has to move away from her brother, rather than ordering him away from her. She has to wait her turn. She has to learn that she won't always get what she wants.

I thought we were doing well with that too. We've gone four days without a major temper tantrum. And tonight, after I tucked her in, and just when I was ready to pat myself on the back for figuring out this whole parenting a two year old thing, she opened the door to her room, crept over to my bed, put her hands in mine, and looked up at me with the most sincere and loving expression on her face, and said:

"Momma, you so boo - u - ti - ful. Can I watch Sleeping Cutie in your bed?"

And then she put her head under my neck, patted my cheek, and said, "I love you too much."

So she is currently sitting in my bed, watching her movie, an hour past her bedtime.

Bloody hell. She learned manipulation at day care.