My childish ways

I vowed to not talk about the family I work for very much on my blog. I know I can't be linked to it in anyway, yet I am still nervous. But tonight with my cell phone service being nil, I need to let go of some steam. It is no secret that 5 year old S and I don't get along all that well. Except for the past week and a half. We have gotten along famously. It had coincided with a week of no television (due to some unfortunate wetting of the pants incidents while watching and then sitting in her wet pants), coincidence? She has gone out of her way to be good, asking several times a day, "Am I being good today?" "Has this been a good day?" and rushing to put stars on her behavoir chart and show her mother the second she walks in the door. We have cuddled on the couch reading, baked cookies and giggled a lot. This spurt of goodness may also have something to do with the fact that I have been letting 7 month-old S2 cry more (she is always frustrated because she wants to sit up and crawl, yet can't do either on her own), because if I didn't, I would be soothing her 24/7, so when she is having one of her many fits, Sophia and I bond. I knew it couldn't last forever. This morning was not the best. I was running late because I decided to shower before taking Sophia to school, instead of after like I usually do lately. She thought it was in her best interest to play instead of making her bed, eating or brushing her teeth. But I chalked that up to us already being late, not her defiant behavior. After school was going pretty well, not as great as last week, but not bad. Then it happened. Her dad (P) came home early, only to work more in his office here. When he does this, that means I am still working too. S just got done with a bath and was asking to go outside in the rain (yes, it's raining again). I told her no and she accepted that. Then her dad snuck up behind us and scared us both, and the second she saw him, she put on her shoes and was out the door. After that, it was one thing after the other. Stop standing on the chair, "I am almost standing, almost, I am on my knees, now my feet". No eating in the living room, "Look, one foot in, one foot out, one foot in, one foot out." Get down from the counter, "just one more second". I tried to ignore her, but she would literally stand 2 inches from me, just pushing my buttons. It took everything I had not to reach out, grab her and just shake whenever she was that close. I started to realize that I was playing along. She would try to see what I was writing on the board of daily events, I didn't want her to (she can't even read, so I am not sure why it mattered), so I would pull it away, turn it upside down or walk away with it. She would chase me in laughter, I was doing it out of anger. I would try to take her juice bottle away because she was bringing it into the living room, she would run away and I was trying to get it from her; again, she was laughing, I was angry. Both times I won the battle, I would threaten to erase her star on the board and she would stop; I took the bottle away and put it in the dishwasher. I realized how childish I was being; I had reached my breaking point. Finally, I told P that I was going upstairs. I didn't care if he was working, I needed to get out. He reluctently said okay. I wish it would have ended there, but it didn't. S decided to chase me all the way up to my bedroom on the third floor. She does this sometimes, it annoys me but I play along and act pleasant towards her. Not tonight. I knew the only way to handle this was to just ignore it. She kept on saying through her giggles, "I am right behind you." I got up to my room and she tried to follow me in. I shut the door and locked it with her outside. She kept trying to open it, then said, "Fine, I will just go in through your bathroom door, ha" (I have 2 doors to my bathroom, one into my room, one into the hallway). That door was already locked, so she pushed and pushed. She said how she could see under the door and she put her fingers under. Then she started with, "Can I pretty please come in, with hot fudge on top?" It didn't make me feel bad. I opened the door, she tried to walk in and I pushed her out, got down to her level, looked in her eyes and said, "You were being mean to me and not listening because your dad is home, so I don't want you in my room right now. I will see you in the morning." and I closed the door. I could here her fake cry as she was walking down the stairs (by this point, I can tell the difference between real and fake). I stuck my head out the door again, and said "See you later, Alligator" and she replied, through her fake cry, "After awhile, Crocodile." And then she was okay. We say that every night before I go upstairs. Sometimes I forget to say it and she will come and knock on my door, remind me that I forgot, and we say it to each other. After writing this, the anger has subsided. I know I was being childish, I came down to her level. That is the worse thing you can do, I know this from experience. Yet, I did it anyway, I couldn't help myself. But at the end of the day, she still loves me. And no matter how crazy she drives me and how much of a brat she is, I guess I love her too, the Alligator-Crocodile exchange every night reminds me of this. She wants me to live here forever, she told me this last week. She told me she loves me more than her mom and dad, second only to her baby sister. I told her I love my sisters more than anyone else in the world too. She asked, "what about me?" I told her she is second.