Tuesday, September 9, 2008

All Hail the Queen

This morning, my 17 month old decided it was time to take the gloves off and deal with her older sister who up to that point, had a chaotic love/destroy relationship with her. If the baby had a cookie, apple or bottle she wanted, Miss Chief would march over and take it or illustrate "sharing." while coopting the lion's share if not the whole treat in it's entirety. If the baby had a toy she coveted, she'd lure the baby into the next room, grab the toy and run up the stairs where her sister could not yet follow.

Patrolling to protect the youngest from her more assertive older sibling wasn't deterring the older from these tactics. But today, September 9, 2008, the littlest one declared her autonomy and her authority. Putting a tierra on her head, she marched into the kitchen to demand breakfast.

I put her in her high chair and toasted a few waffles. Miss Chief had already consumed her toasted breakfast but saw that there was more food available and went to pounce on her sister's serving. The Queen was having none of it. She grabbed her food and called out. Miss Chief had never encountered true resistance before. Now she wanted that waffle. She reached again. Her sister bopped her hand with her tiny fist and began eating quickly. Seperating the utterly baffled Miss Chief from her triumphant younger sister, Miss Chief tried feeling hurt to get what she wanted. "She hit me! My little sister hit me!"

"You were stealing her waffle. You can't eat her food." Seeing she had no ally in me, Miss Chief stomped off to plot her next move. Five minutes later, she returned to try and take the crown. The Queen had finished her breakfast and was dancing in the kitchen, trying to grab the sounds of the French Horn from the air. (Rudy was playing on the CD). But the crown was even more important than the waffles, and the Queen ran faster than I have ever seen a 17 month old move to guard her finery.

Miss Chief considered this continental shift in power that had just taken place.

She went downstairs where we keep all the toys. For 20 minutes, I heard happy sounds of playing. Miss Chief returned wearing a crown and cape, her arm around the youngest princess' shoulder. They each held a barbie septre and the eyes were shining with the secrets that only two toddler sisters can share. Miss Chief had raided the pantry and procured a bag of oreos, the crumbs of which smeared their happy cheeks.

It was clear, an alliance had been struck.

My life just got exponentially more complicated. May have to outlaw collusion.

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1 comment:

Amy said...

Methinks they are plotting to overthrow the monarchy! Call for reinforcements.

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