April Fools

We're still waiting for someone to jump out and yell "APRIL FOOLS" at us.  See, the big joke is that someone took my Elisabeth and replaced her with a little miniature devil.  My mother has told me for years that four years old was the hardest, and from just this past week I can say she is correct.  I was minutes away from either slapping postage on the kid and mailing her to her grandmother or sending her to be raised by the foxes in the back yard.  

I think that it did actually all start with April Fool's day.  See, to a four year old, April Fool's Day is just a license to lie.  But Elisabeth didn't know when to stop - she picked a position and then argued it until she went down with the ship.  She didn't get that part of April Fool's is to eventually back off and say "April fools!!!"

Here was a particularly funny, and infuriating exchange at dinner last night.  To set the scene, I am sitting at the table with Elisabeth and Charlotte.  Every 15 seconds I have to get up to get someone something else because heaven forbid they either (a) eat the same thing or (b) pick one thing and eat all of it and not ask for a million things.  Anyway, Doug is upstairs on a conference call.  I was concerned about Elisabeth getting constipated - remind me to show this to Elisabeth's prom date.  

Me:  Elisabeth, did you poop today?

E:  Nope (concealing a smile, clearly indicating she is lying).

Me:  Really?

E:  Nope (same wry grin)

Me:  Are you telling me the truth?

E:  Yep.

Me:  So, if I go to the computer and ask Daddy if you pooped, he'll tell me no?

E:  Well, Mommy, you really shouldn't bother Daddy.  He's working.  He doesn't like it when we bother him when he's working.

Me:  Well, I'm going to go send him a message.  Do you promise me that he'll say that you didn't poop?

E:  I didn't poop.  And you shouldn't bother Daddy.

Me (IMs Doug and finds out that she in fact had pooped):  Well, Elisabeth, Daddy has a different story.  He says you did poop.

E:  (totally straight face)  Well, Mommy, Daddy is lying.

Me (infuriated, possibly raising my voice although my parenting pride refuses to actually admit it):  I will give you FIVE seconds to tell me the truth.  If you don't, then you're going to bed right now without any dessert!!!

E:  Um, well, um, yeah, I did poop.  But it was fun to tell you that I didn't.

ARG!!!!!!!!!!!

Now, you might think just the barrage of lies would be enough for any one set of parents.  But, no.  We're also having a renewed temper tantrum phase combined with a cry/whine whenever you can't deal with something.  For example, Elisabeth couldn't reach the salt on the table and melted down to tears.  Yesterday I had to leave the house without Elisabeth, without taking her to preschool as planned, because Elisabeth refused to brush her teeth without someone "paying attention to her."  So once the line is drawn in the sand, you can't give in and go pay attention to her merely because she's throwing a big fit.  Otherwise we'd be rewarding the fit and she'd be getting exactly what she wanted.  30 minutes of tantruming later, I left without her.  Doug ended up driving her later, but I'm just not sure how many more of those tantrums I can take!!!

In between the lying and the tantrums and the crying, there hasn't been much in the way of funny.  We're all too exhausted in the interim to have any sort of a sense of humor.

So, really, when is someone going to holler April Fools and give me my kid back?!?!?