Nora really is full of sugar and spice and everything nice. That is, most of the time. This weekend (probably due to her new-found ability to say pretty much whatever she wants and the crankiness induced by still-yet-to-be-seen two year molars) her sugary self took a hiatus and her mean girl side emerged full force.
Nora isn’t exactly Miss Friendly when it comes to her classmates. I know she likes her “friends”; she talks about them at home and tells us of their many adventures, but when it comes to warming up to them in person, she’s not so into that. Each morning we arrive at daycare and a few of the toddlers yell, “Nora!” when she enters the room. They run over to her when I put her down, smiling and offering toys. She stands there, thumb in mouth, finger twirling her hair, head slightly cocked to one side. “Who me?” she seems to say, and walks away without even acknowledging them. It’s sometimes embarrassing if one of the other parents is there to witness her obvious snubbing.
So, from these morning encounters, I knew there was a mean girl somewhere inside her. At a daycare friend’s birthday party on Saturday, a father told me, after finding out that I’m a teacher, that he could see Nora as a teacher too. He commented that she likes to organize and show others how to do things. I think this was his nice way of saying that Nora can be bossy. Later, when Ken was trying to put her down for a nap and that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, she snapped, “I want a new daddy!” Today when I was trying to put her down for a nap and, again, it wasn’t her idea of fun, she said, “Where’s my daddy? I love him.” When I asked if she loved me too she said no. Her mean streak even extended to her grandparents. When my mom suggested it was time for her and my dad to leave, Nora started saying goodbye and announcing their departure. It would have been rude if she wasn’t two. And, then, just to make sure we didn’t mistake her for her usual sweet and cuddly self, she announced to Papa on his way out, as she leaned in to kiss him, “Papa, you’re pink.” Which he is – a typical fair skinned former redhead. She did make sure, however, to not be all mean girl. She donned her sympathetic voice and told Papa, “You’ll be all better later.”
I guess I need to brace myself now for the teen years.
My favorite Mean Girls Quote:
Oh, I love seeing teachers outside of school. It’s like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.