Oh Anneliese

I know that each of our kids will fade in and out of easier and more difficult seasons (and I'm dreading the day when they're all three teenagers at the same time), but right now it's our dear middle child who's giving us a run for our money.  I keep alluding to our ongoing frustrations with this stage, and I keep getting sweet comments and emails and snippets of conversation affirming her wonderful cheerful demeanor (true), her good listening when she's in x person's care (true), and how she can't possibly be as naughty/frustrating/defiant/etc as we think she is (false).

I know full well that at preschool, for grandparents, at church, for sitters -- she's generally compliant and manageable and happy and, well, easy. But at home, every day, especially every morning when she and I are both barely awake, dang if she doesn't try my limits. Test them. Push them. Push past them.

I have tried a healthy handful of times to write a post explaining the madness, but none of them is exactly what I want to say. It's too critical of her yet too defensive of her. Also, too critical of me yet too defensive of me. I'm scared I don't know how to be blog-honest anymore. I don't know when it happened* but I don't like it. So while there probably aren't great (yet still guarded) words to explain how frustrating Anneliese has been lately, for some reason I sure want to try anyway.

She's just... into everything. Drawers she shouldn't be in. Grabbing things from other people's hands. Slamming doors just to make noise. Hitting siblings, seemingly just to hear them shriek. Emptying clothes from closets. Into everything.

But unlike Nathan before her (who was easily corrected with a warning, a reminder of the rules, and follow-up consequences), Anneliese is incredibly and proudly defiant. She doesn't care about consequences. Punishments don't upset her, and we can't seem to find a toy or privilege that truly bothers her to have taken away (even Hattie!).... likewise one that as a reward is enough to motivate good behavior. She just. doesn't. care.

It's maddening.

I tell her fifteen times to do any one thing. And I know, I KNOW, that's not good parenting. I know that telling her a hundred times just teaches her that she can get away with not doing it the first ninety-nine. But I also don't want to teach her that if she doesn't do it the first time, *I* will do it. So I find myself telling her to put toys away, to put her shoes on, to climb into her car seat, over and over and over again before she finally does it. And I don't know how to stop.

There's also the story of how she and I got locked into the closet in between the girls' bedrooms last week, for almost an hour. In the dark. In the heat. With a diaper full of poop. While I was glasses-less blind and post-shower naked. Which would be a funny story if it hadn't been so panic-inducing (no seriously, there were tears and panic) and if I weren't so overwhelmed by the string of naughties that led to the situation in the first place. (It involves lots of lock/door manipulating to try and foil her attempts to bust into Charlotte's room when they're both supposed to be sleeping which she does all the time; clearly our efforts backfired in a big ol locked-in-the-closet way.) (And in case you were curious, I CAN scream loud enough to wake a sleeping five-year-old through three closed doors, but I am NOT strong enough to break down even one of those doors on brute strength alone, nor am I crafty enough to pick a lock with random things I found in the closet -- pieces of my childhood telescope or the strings of a guitar. MacGyver fail. Sweet baby Nathan for the rescue-win.)

A sign of how far the frustration has come: when I wash my hands in the bathroom, I feel angry. Just the smell of the soap, which Anneliese finds and makes a mess of several times in any given week, triggers angry overwhelmed feelings. My hand soap smells like anger. This is so not okay, to feel like this.

Sure, I can remove the things that cause her worst offenses (remember the markers?) - but for everything we remove/take away/hide, there's always something else to get into. Aside from living alone with Anneliese in a padded room, I don't know how to prevent this particular into-everything brand of naughtiness.

She's stubborn and persistent and determined. I think this will serve her well later in life, but damn if it doesn't make her a difficult toddler in the meantime. Can she really not control her impulses? Because I think she can. She's almost three!  But I don't know if this is normal toddler stuff, or if she's acting out, or what.


Sometimes when the hard mornings have passed and she crawls in my arms and snuggles, and makes her thumb-sucking praying hands, like she has done since she was an infant, I just want to kiss her hair and cry a little.

Oh sweet Anneliese, I don't know what you need. I don't know what I need.

What I do know is that I hate it's so hard right now (for you too!) and that I love you more than life itself. We'll figure it all out somehow.

*Yes I do.