I keep a separate journal for cute Victoria stories out of consideration for my friends' saccharine tolerance. However, many people said nice things about my mad mom skilz in response to my recent awful day post. Who am I to argue? Instead, I offer this illustration, a snapshot of my morning.

She is asleep.
Me: Hey, time to get up. Do you want a dress or pants today?
She opens her eyes and doesn't move.
V: Where is my clay? I want to read the doctor story, how come you didn't read the doctor story?
She is currently obsessed with the book, What Do People Do All Day?. Last night I read up through "Firemen to the Rescue" and she was fast asleep. I even poked her to make sure. The next story is "A Visit to the Hospital."
Me: You were asleep. We'll read it tonight. Here's a good dress. Do you need to go to the bathroom?
V: I NEED to READ the DOCTOR story!
Me: Ok, I can read one quick story.
I turn to the doctor story, she grabs the book.
V: No, this one instead.
Me: You want me to read "Everyone is a Worker" instead of "A Visit to the Hospital?"
V: Yes
I read the first story in the book. I shut the book. She wails.
V: Nooooo! I want to read TO the doctor story!
Me: Listen, we don't have time. I have to get to work. Let's go.
V: Waaaaaaaaa ....
She continues to yell unintelligibly as I take off her pjs and put on her clothes. I stomp downstairs and get all of our junk together. I brush my teeth. She comes downstairs, crying.
Me: Let me brush your hair and we can go.
V: I want the little chocolate chip cookies in my lunch.
Me: Super. That's what I did put in your lunch.
I brush her hair. We move to the kitchen, gathering stuff to go out to the car. I am supposed to be at work in 10 minutes, which is hopeless. But I was SO CLOSE! And then...
V: How many cookies did you put in my lunch?
Me: Six.
V: I wanted more.
Me: No, I've already packed everything. We're leaving.
V: No! I want more cookies! Waaaaa .....
I grab the big tub of cookies from the cupboard and slam it on the table. I yell in a very mean voice.
Me: FINE! Take all of them! Let's go!
She cries very loudly. I herd her out the door and into the car. She is screaming/crying.
V: I want ONE COOKIE. I want ONE COOKIE. I want ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE.
Me: You need to put your seatbelt on.
V: I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE.
Me: If you don't put your seatbelt on, I will put it on for you. We need to go.
V: I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE. I WANT ONE COOKIE.
I start to buckle her into the seat. She pushes me away and screams even louder.
V: I WILL DO IT. I WILL DO IT. I WILL DO IT. I WILL DO IT.
She does not do it. I do it.
V: AAAAAHH!!! I WANTED TO DO IT! I WANTED TO DO IT!
I start the car and turn around. She shrieks hysterically now.
V: I WANT ALL OF THEM. GO BACK! GET THE COOKIES! I WANT ALL OF THEM!
She screams about the cookies all the way down Carroll Avenue. I mean, she is screaming so loudly that her voice is trembling. It's making me squint. Since my window is stuck half-down, everyone at each bus stop feels compelled look in my car. Finally, she notices that I haven't said anything.
V: ANSWER ME! MOM! MOM!!! ANSWER ME! YOU HAVE TO TALK! MOM!
Me: I will talk to you when you stop shouting and speak reasonably.
She quiets immediately. She uses a regular speaking voice now.
V: Mom. I would like all of the cookies.
Me: That was a bad idea I had when I was angry. We're not bringing all of the cookies to Ms Salim's.
V: When you drop me off, you can go back and get them.
Me: No, when I drop you off I am going to work.
V: WAAAAH! I WANT ALL THE COOKIES! I WANT ALL OF THEM! I WANT ALL OF THEM!
I get to the babysitter's, remove the screaming 4yo from my car and walk her into the house. I race back to the car and enjoy my chilly, breezy, but quiet ride to work.