I know why Rapunzel's parents locked her in a tower. Snow White's stepmother? She got a bum rap too. Cindy doing lots of chores? The parental units in these tales were dealing with little Princesses like my Sadie. If I had a tower handy, I might be tempted to lock her up there myself.
You see, if the bloodcurdling shrieks weren't enough to set you off, the mischief that small whirlwind of diva and sass and ornery could generate would be enough to leave you grateful for bedtime and when said child finally sleeps! Or make you wish for a quiet, state-run padded room somewhere far far away, and maybe in another galaxy.
Most of the time it is my sweet angel clobbering her little brothers. Now, why anyone would want to clobber those two sweet and sensitive little boys is beyond me. I could understand her taking a whack at the older two, but Adam and Nathan? Quite frankly, her behavior I would expect from the boys - not from my curly haired Princess with a capital "P". She started out okay, sweet little baby girl. Her hair started coming in red and curly, to go with her clear, clear blue eyes. Beautiful little girl. Then she turned two. She brought new meaning and extremity to the term "terrible twos". I consider myself a fairly patient woman (good grief, you have to be with half a dozen kids - either that or seriously sedated) but this pint sized wonder tries me harder than the other five combined - and I have a couple boys who are like 3 children in one. If she isn't clobbering her baby brothers - she's drawing on them. Yes, I mean literally drawing on them. With markers, crayons, pens, dry erase markers, marshmallow fluff . . . If something happens she doesn't like, like say, a time out for drawing on her brothers or painting the wall with red nail polish, she flings herself on the floor in a full body fit. Now, her older sister could throw a fit - one even lasted 3 hours over the wrong pair of pink socks once. Even at that though, she would have been no match for the ones Sadie pitches in volume or tenacity. Jessi grew out of them by the time she turned three. Sadie will be five in April and I am still waiting. Tonight she started crying because I told her to put her pajamas on for bed. Once she finally headed off to put them on, I caught her stopping by the mirror first to watch herself cry and carry on. Oh puh-lease!
We nicknamed her our little chemist. If it came in a bottle, tube, can or any type of storage container - she was more than happy to dump it. She liked to mix things together too. Usually on her bed. I threw out two sets of sheets thanks to her 'spearamentation. (She had promised me too, "No more 'spearaments mommy.") One that she managed to destroy with a full container of Cinnamon, hairspray and my favorite body wash. When she mixed them together, they hardened into something they probably could have coated the space shuttle with. Great for outer space exploration, but not so conducive for bed sheets. Parts of her rug are still sticky (and oddly cold), one part is completely bleached out, another part that is very stiff and crunchy and there is some kind of funky smell in there that I haven't been able to come up with a name for, even after a year. Though, the rug is very pretty and sparkly thanks to the gold glitter she dumped all over it. A princess just needs a gold sparkly rug I suppose.
Then there was the "Sybil Phase". I could fill a book just on that phase alone. There were at least three personalities with names - Fifi, Lola and Jasmine. Now, Fifi I could live with - she was generally somewhat pleasant, liked Shania Twain songs and fairly easy going. Jasmine was a bit of a drama queen, but there too - not too difficult to get along with either, though, she had her diva moments. Lola - now there was a girl I could happily have avoided. Lola could peel paint off the walls with her shriek. Lola was unreasonable, muleheaded, bossy and opinionated. Neither pleasant (unless she was getting her way) nor easy going. Lola was the one who also liked to run around naked. I know some kids go through a streaking phase developmentally - but Lola/Sadie did it with panache. I would run after her through the house - her doing her best Lady Godiva and me with her clothes in hand. Me yelling "come back here and get dressed!" Her "I'm sassy! I'm sassy!" One particularly trying morning I asked her "Are you Fifi or Lola today?" Her response? "I'm psycho." I kid you not. This girl has a vocabulary befitting a princess too. "Would you like some more mashed potatoes Sadie?" "Yes Mother, that would be luscious." When did preschoolers start using words like "luscious", "remarkable", "delightful", "scrumptious"? She uses words even I would have a hard time spelling, and I was an alternate for the State Spelling Bee in Jr. High. Fifi and Lola moved on at the age of three and left Jasmine behind. Jasmine hung around the longest, but eventually she agreed to being called "Sadie Jasmine" and then finally, just Sadie. I could not call her pumpkin, or Sadiebug or Ladybug, no pet names, names of endearment - that was NOT her name. Now we have to call her Sadiebug4 because that is her online name. Yes, her online name at the Care Bears and BellaSara websites. (Note, that is BellaSara as in the horse trading cards NOT the wine!) She refuses to wear pants and has not since the age of two. "Princesses, " she informed me, "do NOT wear pants."
I won't go into the pink phase - that involves personal public mortification in the women's restroom at Walmart. I think I am still trying to recover . . .
There was the tiara phase - she wore it everywhere - bed, bath and beyond. The first photos of her with her newest baby brother Nathan have her with baby in lap and crown on head. Then one day, it just disappeared, replaced by red sparkly shoes. Red, sparkly shoes go with everything - including your best church dress, so long as you wear them with fuchsia and blue plaid Care Bear anklet socks with pompoms on the back.
I had to call Poison Control on her more than once - she would eat anything, and I do mean anything - Deodorant, dish soap, lip balm, rubber bands, the list goes on. As a matter of fact, her latest infraction involves eating something one shouldn't, only this time she wasn't the one doing the ingesting. I was putting baby Nathan down for a nap and heard choking, coughing and gagging. Ran out to find Adam with both hands up to his mouth coughing and gagging rather hard. I pulled his hands out and watched to see if he would get it up or it would go down or I would have to perform some sort of maneuver on him. Whatever it was finally went down and I asked Sadie what he had in his mouth. She smiles sweetly and opened her fist to reveal several pennies and said in her best angelic tone, "a penny". "You're not supposed to eat pennies." I said in my best mommy voice. She gave me this look that seemed to say "I just GAVE him the pennies, it was totally HIS prerogative to EAT them." Sure enough, the ER confirmed by x-ray his net worth had increased by one cent.
Sadie turns 5 in April. All I have to say to her future kindergarten teacher is "Be frightened, be very, very frightened."
Maybe her teacher will have a tower handy . . .
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