Button Coat

Last Friday, I was getting the kids ready to drop Charlotte off at school. Charlotte followed me to the mudroom as I gathered shoes and coats for everyone.

 I held up two coats and asked Charlotte, "Purple or brown?" (giving her a choice at which one she would like to wear that morning)

She replied, "Button coat."

Me: "Button coat?"

C: "Button coat." (pointing at the coat rack behind me)

I realized she was pointing to her denim coat; one she has only worn a couple of times this spring, as here in the midwest, we are still experiencing frigid temperatures requiring winter coats.

Me: "It is cold outside today, and if you go outside at school you need to have a heavier coat. Which one, purple or brown?"

C: "Button Coat" (stomping her foot)

I explained again why she needed to wear a heavier coat.

C: "I WEAR BUTTON COAT!"

Me: See above explanation...I repeated this to her about four different ways, knowing she knew exactly what I was telling her, but it didn't seem to matter

C: "I MAD! I WEAR BUTTON COAT! I MAD!" (running away and stomping her feet all the way down the hall, through the kitchen and into the living room)

I stood there for a second, giggling to myself. Charlotte's stubbornness and need for independence reminds me so much of Katherine's at times. A lot of parents may have been upset at this point, but I have got to tell you, I was feeling pretty proud. Charlotte had just thrown her first "big kid" temper tantrum. She didn't throw herself on the ground, and she didn't cry. She communicated with me what she wanted, and told me exactly how she felt when she didn't get her way. However, I couldn't let her see that I was proud of a tempter tantrum, nor could I give in to her demands.

I walked into the living room and laid both the purple coat and the brown coat on the floor. I told her I was going to put Jack in the van, and she needed to get her coat on because we were going to be late for school.

I fully expected to have to go and force a coat on her and carry her to the car kicking and screaming. Much to my surprise, as I was buckling Jack in the car, I looked up and saw Charlotte standing in the doorway. Her brown coat on, asking me to "helper me zip."

She never ceases to amaze me.

Oh, and the good news? The temperatures this weekend actually hit 50 degrees, meaning the button coat could be worn. We had one happy girl.