Asserting Her Assertiveness

A friend of mine who keeps a blog on his daughter, who is five months older than Brigid (their daughter, not my friend), started using the term "assertive" to describe her after determining the word "bossy" is usually used for females, therefore making it unfairly gender specific. I applaud their efforts to neutralize their gender-based world because it has to start somewhere, and we parents are the first contact our kids have to understanding and changing the outside world. However, the word "bossy" is the best one I can find to describe what Brigid has become. I call her "Bossy McBossy," so, with an apologetic nod to Adina's dad, Brigid is one bossy broad.

She wants what she wants when she wants it. If we're just sitting down to dinner and she decides it's time for a bike ride, she'll announce in the loudest voice possible that "Brigid go for bike ride!" But once isn't enough. She'll repeat the order, over and over. If she decides something belongs to her, she'll scream at you "NO! MINE!" She has no concept of patience yet, and my own concept is truly being tested. If you interrupt her when she's focused on something else, she'll scream at you. But then in the blink of an eye she is happy and joyful and giving you lots of hugs.

Last night, after she announced in her very loud and persistent voice that she wanted to go on a bike ride not long after we sat down to dinner -- on the back porch so the neighbors could hear -- Jack did, indeed, take her when we were all done. When they returned, she insisted it was time for a bath and had a mini-meltdown. It was my intention to take the girls for ice cream after Jack went back to work, and that dissuaded her from her tunnel-vision tantrum about the bath, until we got in the car. Then she started again. When we got to the ice cream place, which is only open in the summer, she perked up and had some of her baby cone and then decided she'd rather have Patricia's. She proceeded to hit Patricia, who patiently was sitting beside her offering her bites. I told Patricia to sit in the far back of the van out of arm's reach. Brigid objected, but I calmly told Brigid no one wanted to sit by her if she kept hitting them.

I really pushed my luck by taking them all to Wal-Mart after because I had to pick up a couple things. She had a major melt-down that no amount of cajoling or fish viewing in the pet department or ultimate time outs would appease. I whisked her out of there and once we were in the car on the way home, she said (in that little-kid hyperventillating voice) "Brigid is so happy!" She had her bath, during which time she melted down again, only to perk up with the promise of the movie, "Babe," which she has really started to enjoy. It was obvious not long into the movie that she was just too tired. With very little opposition, I was able to get her into bed.

So Bossy McBossy may just need more sleep. But then, don't we all?? I know I'd be in a better mood.