Still here . . .

See? It hasn't even been two weeks, and I'm blogging already.
Not that I have very much to tell.

I think my sister's comment to me this weekend sums it all up:
Boy, I sure don't want to be around when she is a teenager.

Case in point-- Saturday.
Saturday afternoon my sister and brother-in-law and my dad, who were all in town, headed up to Temecula for a wedding. Jason headed to a friend's house to watch UFC. Casey, who was a weepy, whiny mess, fell asleep around 6:30 p.m. And that left me and Marcie. I was working, and she was playing on the floor by me. She dumped out a box of Uno cards and spread them all around. I had ordered in pizza, and when it arrived, Marcie wanted to eat (no surprise there). Until I told her she had to pick up the cards first. She complained that it was too hard and she couldn't do it. And I told her that she wouldn't get anything else to eat until she cleaned up the cards.

At first, I left the room-- but I could hear her calling out to me:
I hate you.
You're a mean person.
You're a bad mommy.
I don't love you. I just love Dad.

And then I told her time was up and she could go to bed if she wanted, and I set a timer.
After ten minutes, she still hadn't cleaned up the cards. So I walked her to her bedroom, where I told her she could stay. She said she just didn't want dinner. And so I explained that she didn't have to eat-- but she wouldn't get any breakfast until she had picked up the cards.

She spent the next 58 minutes in her bedroom. Crying. Screaming. Carrying on.
Then she finally came back out to the family room and announced she was ready to clean up.
And she did.

Talk about stubborn.