Oh, how the mighty have fallen

another blogging mommy

It seems I have been laboring under what has turned out to be a misguided impression of my daughter's personality. Based on my observations of her past interactions with her toddler peers I assumed she would be the quiet one in her class, preferring to hang back a little and watch the others rather than diving in to the action. And I absolutely would never have pegged her for a ringleader. At least not right out of the gate.

But she has proven once again that I don't know quite as much about this whole parenting thing as I like to think I do. Which brings me, sheepishly, back to the conversation we had with her very first teacher at our very first meet-the-teacher conference two weeks ago.

Mrs. B: As you know, they are always better for someone else than they are for you.

Me (aka: Misguided Mommy): Oh yes, and she seems to be very well behaved, as toddlers go, so I'm sure she won't cause you any trouble.

{Egad. What in the world was I thinking? How obnoxious must I have sounded?!!}

It seems J was listening. After her first day Mrs. B called to solicit our impressions of the program and to ask whether J was saying anything we had questions about, etc. The message also included the obligatory, "I enjoyed having J in class today and am looking forward to a great year," with an extra bit of praise over how well J handled herself despite the fact she is the youngest and one of only two girls in the group. So I called her back to ask if J had, in fact, done her "doo-doo" (this is what she picks up on day one... it's going to be a long year) on the potty as she reported. Um... no. But Mrs. B did recount the very charming anecdote in which J sassed her beloved teacher on the very first day:

Mrs. B: She's so funny. I asked her to do something and - I probably shouldn't be laughing at this, but - she looked right up at me and said, "No."

Me: {oh, mon dieu}

Mrs. B: You just don't expect that to come out of that little face!

Me: {Well, I have come to expect it, but not towards anyone other than me!}

I was a little concerned that J may be wrapping Mrs. B around her sweet little finger if she thought that was funny - adding to that the fact that on meet-the-teacher day she had to take J around to all the other teachers so they could gush over how much she reminded them of some adorable little girl from two years ago. And she is exceptional in her adorability :-) but I'm not so sure I want her learning to use those powers for evil at the tender age of two.

So today when J was being re-deposited into my car at the noon hour Mrs B informed me that J had been banished to time out for THROWING TOYS. What happened to my meek, mild people pleaser? I know, I know... she turned two. But I wasn't quite ready to let go of the fantasy that she would be the one, shining exception to the terrible rule. How many play dates have I left smug in her seemingly preordained gift for sharing, her patented look of confusion followed by dignified resignation when some cretin playmate snatched a toy from her hand. Rise above, J, rise above.

I guess I always knew she would succumb. I used to worry about how I would teach her to stand up for herself without turning her into the snatcher. I don't worry about that anymore. She has a firm grasp of that familiar toddler concept: what's mine is mine and what's yours is mine.

Still, it seems the time out her hurling dervish act earned her has made a - hopefully - lasting impression. All day today, when any reminder of school cropped up, like the sweetly scribbled red apple (the first artwork I pulled from her elephant backpack and proudly posted on the fridge(!)), she would state, in a low, serious tone, "throw toys, time out." So hopefully it's been J's turn to learn a lesson and she won't be the bad kid after all. I've only had to put her in time out a couple of times at home and now the threat of it is usually enough to put a stop to the ill behavior du jour, but I think the realization that someone other than Mommy has that kind of power has given her sufficient pause. And I'm hoping the 400 times we talked about it this afternoon will serve as adequate reinforcement.