I'm an enabler.

I've got a serious problem. And it's only going to get worse with time. Somebody stop me! I keep giving in to Emma's demands. That girl is opinionated! She knows what she wants and won't accept anything else. I've heard about little kids who from age 2 or so will pick out their own clothes or have a favorite outfit. Not my oldest three. But it's happening with Emma. She'll go get herself dressed and then when I question her fashion choice, she'll say, "That's the way I like it," or "See, it matches," while pointing to two colors that the pants and shirt have in common. To me, it's just not worth continuing that conversation. She wins.

This morning she got juice in her Curious George sippy cup. Sure, on the surface it doesn't sound bad, but when I tell you that it is after refusing to drink her requested chocolate milk, because I used Nesquik powder instead of Hershey's syrup, I sound like a whimpy mom. And I am. I was not like this with my first two children. No sir-ee! I demanded perfection from both parent and child, but I guess now I'm in survival mode. I've been a mom for over 11 years now, and I guess the "newness" has worn off. I'm just not into the baby thing anymore. It's time for new challenges. Been there--done that! Don't I just sound terrible?

Now, about the picture. I had to capture her contentness. She knows she reigns supreme, and that's the way she likes it. In the mornings, our routine is that when Jake goes down for his first nap, I put on TV for Emma and I read emails and take a shower. She knows she's at least got 2 or 3 full episodes of whatever she wants. So she gives me her order. "Mom, I want to watch Dora." Emma doesn't remember life before DVR. She always has 5 episodes of about 4 different cartoons at her disposal. So I put on a Dora, usually the oldest episode because it will be erased as today's episode tapes. I go away and read emails and my friends' blogs. A little later I hear, "my show's over." I go in and ask what she wants next. "Caillou." As I open the episode menu, she precedes to tell me what episode she wants. She wants "Caillou goes to the doctor." We don't have that one. I read her the episode titles, and she thinks for a moment and picks "Starry Night." This is pathetic.

I hate using the phrase, "When I was growing up..." , but when I was growing up, my dad called Saturday "Cartoon Day" because that was the only day cartoons were on! You watched what was being offered. No choices. Well, Caillou is over, and it's time for my shower. Now she wants to watch Curious George. I'd better find out which episode.