Chateau L was full of tears and broken hearts tonight.

Tonight, there is a broken hearted almost four year old who is in bed without supper and who lost her t.v. privileges.   She decided, before I even put dinner on the table, that she didn’t like what I cooked and refused to eat.  I told her fine, but it was dinner time and if she wasn’t going to join us, then she needed to go brush her teeth, put her jammies on and go to bed.  She headed down the hallway and was given one more opportunity to join Will and me for dinner.  She did.  She pushed the food around and took two bites and acted as if it was killing her.  She pushed her plate away and refused to eat.  Will got her up, they went to brush her teeth and she was told to get in her bed.    In the beginning, she cried hard in hopes of us caving to let her back up to 1. eat something different and 2. watch television.  Absolutely not.

After listening to her cry for about 20 minutes, I went in her room and we had a talk.  I asked her why she was crying and she gave some lame-o something or another about her day at school.  When I told her to tell me the real reason she was crying she said it was because she wanted to watch television.  The conversation then went into privileges and special treats.  I asked her did she know why she lost her t.v. time and why she was in bed?  She answered me yes.  I asked why and she replied with, “because.”  Around these parts, “because” is not an acceptable answer. I wanted a reason.  So, we started the conversation over and I asked her the same question again.  She replied, “I didn’t eat my supper and I was ugly.  I lost my fun time.  Dems da rules.”   We did our night-night prayers and the rest of our bedtime routine.   I told her I loved her, she told me she loved me.  I told her it was time to roll over and snuggle up and I would see her in the morning.   She did.  She’s asleep.  A full hour earlier than normal.

Damn.  That was H.A.R.D.  Super duper hard.  She didn’t ask for a snack.  She didn’t ask for something else to eat.  She said, “okay.”  I wanted so badly to fix her something I knew she’d eat, but the rules are the rules are the rules.  The sweeter she was about it, the more I wanted to, but I stood fast and didn’t break. 

Usually, talking to Olivia works.  We’ve never really talked “baby talk” to her and have had conversations with her even before the days of her fully understanding what it was we were talking about.  I think tonight proved that it has paid off.  In a big way.  My girl knew what she did wrong. She knew what the consequences were for it.  She (eventually) accepted it.  Sis B said it best in the comments a few posts back, “4 is the new 15.” 

This parenting thing.  It’s a bit tricky, you know, but I think I’m doing alright with it.  I might make it until January after all.  Ya’ll, my baby’s gonna be FOUR.