Forget the complaining about the lies. My friend assures me that at two years old Addie doesn't really understand the concept of lying. Fine, I believe my friend, she's the mother of a four year old and expecting a baby boy the beginning of March - she must know something to have made it this far.
So forget the lying.
Let's focus on the attitude...or more aptly the Additude. Dear lord, there isn't enough wine, friends. Seriously, even if you offered me your stash of wine it wouldn't be enough.
Me: Babe, finish your meat and asparagus please.
A: I want pickle.
Me: I know that, but you need to eat your dinner first.
A: I WANT pickle!
Me: Addeeee, please finish your dinner.
A pink, plastic fork is thrown across the table, whizzing past my nose. Upon further inspection a pink, plastic tine is broken off it.
Me: AD.DI.SON! You broke your fork! And you almost hit Mommy. Time for the thinking stool.
A: NO THINK MAMA! I WANT PICKLE!
Me: Addie. Stool. Now.
A: PICKLE! (slamming fist into the puddle of ketchup on her plate)
Oh, don't worry she sat on that stool.
I moved it away from the window (because she kept blowing zerberts on the glass) to against the wall. In the new location she proceeded to prop up her feet and sing to herself.
House? Ahh, so quiet.
Will I survive the teen years?