The other day, as Sofia moved on to her newest phase (climbing up on the furniture), I found myself uttering the words "Sofia, we don't stand on the couch." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I was an idiot. The look I received from her can be likened to those eye close-ups in old Westerns at the beginning of a duel. I swear, if she were older and slightly better equipped, the next scene would have involved her blowing the tip of a smoky pistol.
Sofia likes to rebel. She has this hallmark devilish grin that simultaneously makes you want to hug her and scream. She's a tricky one, for sure. Whether we're talking about climbing on furniture or coloring the couch, touching the outlets or trying to open the knife drawer...our girl is cunning, and totally frustrating. I've tried many a tactic: time outs, calm explanations, ignoring her, the dreaded even-your-father-says-it's-not-ok. She's not having any of it, at least not yet.
The positive thing is that she's not hyper-sensitive, so while she kicks and screams like bloody murder, 3 seconds later she's already onto something else, cooking up her next plan of attack. She never stays mad for long, and she totally gets the joke: when we're in a good mood and the only response we have to such shananigans is to laugh like heck at how screwed we are, she laughs right back.
As she gets older, I'm sure I'll feel way more frustration at her rebellion - though, a part of me has hope that it will wear off as soon as she hits her teens (ha - denial, you say?). For now, though, except on those really awful days or when she puts herself in dire danger, underneath I kind of like it, I like that she's testing the waters and has a mind of her own. And in those moments, when I realize that I like it, I also realize who she probably got such chutzpah from.
Bring it on, little lady!
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