Stubborn, much?

I simply must record this story for all of posperity - and for Briana.  Because one day, I am quite certain she's going to have a daughter and I'm relishing the fact that she will have one "just like her". 

Our daughters are both very strong.  Strong willed, strong emotionally, strong mentally, strong physically.  And really, strong willed is an understatement.  I'll own up to being a very 'strong' woman, myself.  And I have little doubt in my mind that I have been this way my whole life.  I'm sure my parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, sister, friends, anyone who has ever come in contact with me would confirm this.  And, truth be told - we all come by it honestly (I'm from a long line of strong women).  And, again, truth be told - these are spectacular qualities that I actually prayed for my daughters to possess when I was pregnant with each of them.  I want them to be strong, self assured women.  I don't want them to let people walk on them.  I want them to feel confident enough to stand firm for their beliefs and for themselves.  I remind myself of that very often.  Because (and I'm gonna let any of you mom-to-be's out there in on this) praying for a strong, self assured little girl quite often gets you said strong, self assured daughter.  Again, not at all a bad thing to possess as an adult (or, really, even as a teen).  BUT, I'm here to tell you - it is very trying on the ol' patience department to raise said strong, self assured daughter.  And, I feel I'm pretty well equipped - what, with my being strong willed myself and all.  Sooo, with all this in mind, here was the scene in our home yesterday morning around 7:10 am.

The girls and I had just finished eating our breakfast and I was proding them along to get dressed.  In an effort to speed up their progress, I offered to get their clothes out for them.  Brooke said yes and told me she wanted to wear jeans and a short sleeved shirt.  I asked Briana, "Pants or a dress?"  She shouted back "Pants!" very happily and politely.  All was well in my life and I swear I heard happy little birds chirping.  I came out with a pair of pink pants and a yellow & pink short sleeved shirt. 

This.was.my.fatal.flaw. 

The birds stopped chirping and I swear I heard the theme from Jaws playing in the background.  She screamed at me, "NOT SHORT SLEEVES!  I NEED LONG SLEEVES!"  Again, in trying to keep the peace and speed up progress, I returned to her closet and switched out the shirts.  Once again, my mothering skills had failed me and she yelled, "NOT THAT ONE!"  So I told her that I was done going to get her clothes, if she wanted a different shirt, then she could go get it.  "NO!" was the reply. 

From here, a whirlwind of screaming, kicking, flailing, dressing, undressing and time outs ensued.  

At first, I tried to calmly reason with her (I know, what in the world was I thinking?!)  She was standing in our living room in just her panties refusing to put clothes on.  By this time it's around 7:20 and we have to leave by 7:30 to get Brooke to school on time (and the child hadn't brushed her teeth or hair-she ended up with toothpaste IN her hair and no teeth or hair brushing done when we left).  So I sent her to timeout, with her clothes and told her not to come out unless she had clothes on.  At 7:25, I went in the room and told her she was getting dressed.  I proceeded to put the shirt over her head and put one arm in the arm hole.  As I went to put the 2nd arm in, she pulled the 1st one out.  So I thought I'd put her pants on.  While I was working against the kicking legs, she pulled her shirt off.  At this point, I spanked her (gasp!  yes, we spank on occassion.)  It did not hinder her determination one bit.  So, at 7:29, I told her she was going to school naked.  She put a jacket on and I made her walk to the car.  I called Roger and left him a voicemail asking him when he'd be done working because he was going to have to deal with her and we took Brooke to school.  The entire time we're driving, she's crying to watch a video in the car and I am reminding her that she does not get to watch a movie because she wouldn't get dressed.  Halfway to the school, I finally calm down and ask her, "Briana, you have two choices, you can ask me to pull over after we drop Brooke off and get you dressed and I will take you to school and that will be the end of it....or, you can go home and Daddy will handle it."  She immediately snapped back, "I WANT TO GO HOME!"  So I calmly said, "Ok, just so we're all on the same page here, IF you go home, Daddy will get you dressed and he will take you to school. And you will probably get a spanking or another timeout if you don't cooperate."  Brooke interjects, "Briana, I think I'd ask Mommy to get you dressed." And sweet, wonderful Briana shouts back to her calm sister (oh this SO reminds me of me and Jen) "YOU'RE NOT THE MOMMA!"  So we drop Brooke off and Briana is still adament that she is not getting dressed, but she has told me she doesn't want to go home.  So I drive to school, silently praying for Roger to call.  As we pull in to her school's parking lot and I park, I turn the car off and turn around to face her.  I say (in my very calm, "I mean business" voice) "Briana, I am giving you a final choice.  These are your only two options now.  You can politely ask me to get you dressed and I will dress you in the car and walk you in to school.  OR I will walk you into school naked." Then I tell her,  "Keep in mind that 3 year olds don't go to school naked and I promise you your friends will laugh at you if you do." 

This child. 

This strong, strong, daughter I prayed 9 months for sat there for a good 5-7 seconds staring at me.  I could actually see her brain working and weighing if the punishment was worth her winning the argument. 

FINALLY, she said, "Mommy, will you please put my clothes on?"

****No one tell her this, but I am terrified I am not equipped to win a battle of wills with her when she becomes a teenager.  I barely win now and she's ONLY THREE!****