Dear Jo Frost

Dear Jo,

Can I call you Jo? I don't have to call you Supernanny do I?

Jo, have you forsaken me?

I remember those days, watching you on TV as I judged those other families.

What is so difficult about putting your kids in their own beds? Just don't give them anything else to drink. Close the door and walk out of the room.

Oh, Jo. I wish I had known that it wasn't that easy. I wish that I had known that the colorful chore charts only work for so long, that the tough love can take its toll when you've only seen your kids for two hours and all they want is you.

What is the harm of a 2-year-old eating Kix in your bed at 9:30 while watching a DVR'd Top Chef episode?

I need you back Jo, we need a little order in this household. Momma needs some quality time with the kids that doesn't include barking orders and trying to do laundry in the background.

We need more dance parties, more yoga moves in the living room, more reading for pleasure and less for reading log, we need more veggies and less Fruit by the Foot.

We need a little structure, a little support and a little more room in the house!

I know we can do it Jo, but it would be nice if you could just stop by, gaze at me with your piercing blue eyes, invite me into a warm hug against your ample bosom and whisper in your British accent that I am super too.

Cheerio,

Bean

Oh. . . The Lady

The Lady is so two.


Everyday I am not sure who is going to meet me in the morning. Will it be the "No, I want Daddy!" or "No change my diaper, I want milky," shrill-voiced little crank pants, or will it be my sweet little girl who gives me a big smile and an even bigger hug.


Will we start the day wrestling over putting on clothes, because she insists on either wearing only her pajamas or wants to "just be nudie?" Or can I distract her enough to slide on a pair of leggings and get out the door with her velcroing her own sneakers and helping me put her sweatshirt on?


I realized that my kid is now the one that is acting out. That she is now the one that we are trying to bribe, threaten, punish, or ignore into completing our simple requests.

Eat your breakfast. No.
Put on your shoes. No.
Stop touching the computer. No--its mine, or my personal favorite--"I'm doing my e-mails!"

Some days I don't know if I should just ignore her completely or lock myself in the bathroom and cry. I know she is just asserting her independence, and it is important to me that the Lady be able to assert herself in life, to stand up for herself and to make her own decisions. I just wish she wasn't doing it at the same time that I am trying to get her dressed and out the door.

I know that eventually, the outbursts will subside a bit, that the tantrums won't seem so bad and that maybe, sometime soon, she will actually allow me to put pants on her body without wriggling around like a greased monkey, but until then I will try to use every single parenting tip I got from watching random episodes of Supernanny, hope for the best and remind myself that I am still in charge.