Even an Angel Can Be a Devil

I stand by my statement that my daughter is the absolute best. I love her more than anything. Well... put her next to a humungous cheesecake, and I may have a harder time making a decision. But I suppose she would say the same about me when faced with that same situation.

I want this blog to be real though. I don't want everyone out there thinking that little miss Helena is the picture perfect image of a well-behaved, intelligent, cooperative child. She will cooperate most of the time, if it fits in with what she wants at that particular moment. Sometimes, what she wants is to make me happy and that's why she won't hesitate to organize her laundry for me or put her shoes in the closet. But sooooometimes... you can do EVERYTHING for her, and it still will not be good enough. I chalk it up to "Only Child Syndrome".

You see, Helena has been conditioned to getting her way. Between grandparents who love to spoil her, an auntie who will entertain her ridiculous requests, and a mom (yes, I'm guilty too) who doesn't always want to be the bad guy – she's become accustomed to late bedtimes, dinners of her personal selection, toys or new clothes upon every visit to a store. The list could go on and on. The problem with this is that the older she gets, the more entitled she becomes. The more she thinks she deserves without having to do anything but look cute in order to get it. Most of the time, it works.

But because I am trying to raise a decent, appreciative, productive member of society and not just have a kid that likes me, sometimes I have to adjust my perspective. And last night was one of those nights.

The evening started nice enough. She cleaned her room easily, with promises of baked macaroni & cheese for dinner (her choice) and quality time playing Little Big Planet on Playstation. Dinner only encountered a minor hiccup, when she scoffed at me mixing broccoli in the macaroni. The problem isn't that she dislikes broccoli, she LOVES broccoli. She just didn't want it mixed together. My solution: "That's the way I made it, so that's the way you're going to eat it." Commence eating dinner.

After dinner, we began playing Little Big Planet (which is a game Helena adores and always asks Jordon & I to play with her). First Issue: Jordon puts a big flower on her dress while making her character. She didn't want a flower on her dress. Cue irrational crying. To appease her crying, Jordon removes the flower from her dress. But that guy, the ever-constant joker that he is, put the flower sqaure on her face. "Whattt?!?! I took it off your dress!" Of course, we both though this was hilarious. Helena did not agree. She proceeded to walk over to him on the couch and punch him on the arm. Immediately after doing this, and knowing it was the absolute wrong thing to do, she apologized... to me!

When I told her it wasn't ever alright to hit someone or get so worked up over something that should have been funny, she didn't seem remorseful. Instead, she tried to justify why she had done it. What he did wrong that caused her to act in that way. To be honest, it was hard to not think of her dad and the way he would react to certain situations when they weren't going his way. I don't want her exhibiting those kind of habits. Luckily, Jordon is very forgiving and never angry at anything, and when she finally apologized to him, he told her to come sit back down and play. To have fun with us. And we did have fun... until it was bedtime.

I read a story to Helena called "Fancy Nancy Sees Stars". Of course, she had to make a comment that the illustrations were "a little boring". But I continued to read anyway. When I tucked her in and kissed her good night, she asked for another book to look at to help her fall asleep. I grabbed a book and gave it to her, but it wasn't the book that she wanted. So, what did she do? What any rational person would do... she threw the book across the room. (Could you sense that sarcasm?) That was the third strike for her and I told her she needed to learn to appreciate what she gets. That she was allowed to stay up late and play video games, I made what she wanted for dinner, we had had fun, right?

But after all of these unnecessary outbursts, I realized. I'm not the fun one. I am the parent, and this is my job. And my job is to teach her to appreciate the good things. To not complain when people do nice things for you, just because it may not be exactly what you hoped. To not resort to hitting or whining and crying just to get your way. That we don't always get our way all the time. So, to teach this lesson, I had to take something away. And I took away what is most precious to Helena when it comes time for bed: her light. She hated it. She screamed and got hysterical for me to turn on that light, but I didn't falter. If I had given in, it would have further cemented why she has this primary issue in the first place.

Now, this story probably paints the Hellcat out to be a horrible excuse for a child. Most of you are probably wondering how I can sing her praises. Be sure, this isn't the norm. This is what kids do though. This is why we have to teach them how to NOT be spoiled, selfish, entitled brats. And you know what? This morning, she was pleasant and responsive and apologized profusely for how she had behaved. We had a long talk about why those things were wrong and she understands. I can't say nights like that won't ever happen again, but she promises they won't. And I could tell this time when she said she was sorry, she actually felt bad. She wasn't saying it to get anything. She wasn't saying so she wouldn't be in trouble. She said it because she didn't want me to be disappointed. And that makes me feel like, maybe... just maybe, I'm doing something right.