Life with a drama queen...

And the Oscar for Best Leading Actress goes to...Pickles! The audience cheers and applauds as Pickles makes her way majestically to the stage leaving a trail of glitter and broken hearts behind her. Sweeping back the train of her gown, she wipes away a signature crocodile tear as she gracefully curtseys and humbly thanks the academy and everyone who has supported her in her life, apart from her cow of a mother who has just asked her to brush her teeth

This is what I imagine unfolds in Pickles head every time she flips her lid over something I consider to be trivial. I kid you not, a couple of weeks ago I asked her to please wash the felt tip pen off her hands and to please brush her teeth ready for bed. "URGH Muuuummm!!! I cant do everything you know!" was the immediate response. Trying to be patient I asked again, and again...and again. Each time the response was whining, a negotiation or outright refusal. She could have brushed her teeth five times over in the time we spent arguing about it. So I flipped. I lost my patience. I shouted and stood over her while her big blue eyes looked up at me slowly filling with tears. I immediately felt horrendous about it. I'm the adult, I'm supposed to stay calm, show her how to handle situations like this, how to suck it up and do the necessary, inconvenient chores we don't want to do. I immediately crouched to her level, apologised for shouting, hugged her and suggested we try brushing our teeth together. I could see this made her feel a little better, but it was too late. She had seen my guilt, my weakness, and oh my God was she going to make the most of it! The tears became free falling, the cry became high pitched, the speech became indeciphrable. Out of the sniffling gibberish I managed to decipher the words "frightened me" and "too scared to brush my teeth now". Nice try kid. She worked herself into such a state that the crocodile tears became real, the sniffling became hyperventilating, and the acting became method. I then spent the next half a bloody hour calming her down before I could convince her to allow me to brush her teeth and get her into bed.

I wish I could say that incidents like this are one-offs, but there was another recently, just before Easter. Pickles and Puds love a hot cross bun with jam, although in our house I suppose its more of a cold cross bun as a toasted hot cross bun is considered inedible by them apparently. Pickles was hungry late afternoon as once again she didn't like the school lunch she had chosen for herself and so hadn't eaten it. She asked for her cold cross bun with jam and after a few refusals from me as I was about to make dinner, and negotiations from her, she commenced one of her legendary tantrums. There were tears, lots of wailing, nose blowing, sobbing, cushion throwing, requests for cuddles, further negotiations, threats that I wouldn't be invited to her next birthday party, shouts that she doesn't love me anymore, and requests for any food other than dinner and hot cross buns. FORTY FIVE MINUTES that lasted! Forty five friggin' minutes! Dinner was getting cold on the table, but she was refusing to eat it despite apparently wasting away from starvation mere minutes before.

Despite this pain in the arse tendency of hers for the dramatics though, part of me is actually really proud of her. Forty five minutes of tantrum is an exhausting endeavour to execute, let alone experience as a bystander. The girl is only five years old and yet she has the stamina, focus and commitment to keep that going for that long! I'd get bored and tired after two minutes! And this isn't even her record. When she was two years old she threw her post office set across the living room for fun and then totally lost it when I asked her to tidy it up. That epic tantrum lasted two full hours with a half hour nap in the middle (she screamed right up to the point her eyes closed, and then immediately started up again when she opened them). Like I said before, commitment. No pressure Pickles, but I'm expecting great things from you in the future.

Oh and for those wondering, I totally won the battle of the cold cross bun. She ate every crumb of dinner and got her bun for pudding as I had originally suggested to her. Score so far: Mama 1 - Pickles 3987...I still have some catching up to do...