Friend or Enemy?

We're loath to admit it, especially after bragging about our little angel for so long, but we have a terrorist in our midst. She may look more darling than dangerous, she may prefer dresses over full military attire, but she's becoming shockingly well-versed in tall tales, subterfuge, and defiance.

We have no way of knowing how Clara would have developed in a normal home, but with an older brother molding her during these formative years, she is afraid of absolutely nothing and no one, loves nothing more than starting fights (that she can definitely finish), loves to taunt and tease, and seems to be losing her grip on the difference between reality and her active imaginary world. Sometimes I wonder if we have a little sociopath in the making.

Of course, we still see flashes of our old Clara, especially when she's at school, where she's quickly become a teacher's pet. A trio of little girls flock to her side when she walks in the door, and she shares, cleans up, and cooperates like a model preschooler. She is probably the only girl in class who knows all of the boys' names, and she addresses them as "my Henry," "my Peter," and "my Ian."

But as soon as we're buckled into the car on the way home from school, her darker side emerges.

"MOOOOMMY, my boo-boo hurts!! You punched me in the face! Remember, last Thursday??"

Or, after fighting like a she-cat to fasten her own carseat straps, she leans back contentedly, and announces,

"Joey, I didn't go to school today."

or,

"Joey, today is not Tuesday. It's Sunday!"

Comments like these are expertly designed to enrage Joey, leading to a pitched battle of wills, until Clara finally catches my eye in the rearview mirror, and admits with a sly smile, "I know. I'm lying."

She had her first classic, ridiculously dramatic public meltdown this week after dance class, and had to be carried to the car kicking and screaming, tutu'd rear end in the car.

She has a love-hate relationship with the baby, often smothering her with kisses and proudly showing her off to strangers. But she loves to poke her head into her carseat when she's sound asleep, and roar like a lion. And she's quick to blame the only non-verbal person in the house for all sorts of transgressions, including errant crayon marks, crumby messes, and toy explosions.

Her list for Santa Claus is a disturbing snapshot into her terrorist-in-training mind. All she apparently wants for Christmas is a pogo stick and a real frog. I shudder to think what evil plot she's cooking up.

In a desperate bid to get a handle on this behavior, I'm ordering this...

Any other parents of a three-year-old want to place a bulk order for a volume discount?