Recently she's begun overcoming this - as I say and have said before, she's finally hit the terrible twos.
And for the most part, this is a good thing. She doesn't let Ana walk all over her anymore. If she wants to play Princess and Ana relegates her to the role of the baby, she doesn't just say "Okay" about it. If Ana decides something is gross or ugly or stupid, she doesn't just agree and put it down. For that matter, she'll now occasionally pick something without waiting to just copy what Ana picks! (That was the source of 18 months worth of consternation on Ana's part, who took to whispering in my ear.)
She stands up for herself, and for the most part, I'm happy to see this.
Of course, she's also started occasionally throwing tantrums. And when I say this, you have to understand that she basically never threw tantrums at three, or four. The only event I can even remember stands out because of how pathetic it was - she said she didn't want to nap, and then she took her mouth close to my hand and pretended to bite me. It was the most inept tantrum I've ever seen in my life, and she was all done in half an hour anyway.
I mean, she did throw tantrums before, occasionally, but not many and they were over quickly and almost always when she was extremely tired.
She actually threw two tantrums at the Y this week. The first one, after swimming, she refused to get out of her bathing suit and refused to get back INTO her bathing suit, so she just sat there half naked and screamed (until somebody came in and told her they could hear her outside. Then she stopped.) She also held onto her chair with all her might, and after determining that it'd be really hard to get her to stop without hurting either her or me (and hurting a little half-naked child in the locker room of the Y has got to be the worst possible ending to a tantrum EVER) I resolved to just wait her out (I didn't know they could hear her outside either) by sitting as far away as possible.
That ended fairly well, once she realized they could hear her outside. (And to her credit, she didn't scream today either.)
Her tantrum today started when she realized that her outfit for Tae Kwon Do was too big. I sympathized, but once again she refused to either take it off or keep it on. (Plus, you don't get your way by STARTING with a tantrum.) I managed to wrestle her into it, but then she neither wanted to leave nor go to class. So we stood at the door while I tried to convince her to just make a choice already. ANY choice.
While she's there whining (no screaming at the Y!) a woman comes up and asks "Do you need help?"
I figure she means, like, help manhandling her or bribing her to behave, and I go "No thanks". As she elucidated later, she meant psychiatric help, but we'll get to that.
After this comment followed what has to have been the worst-timed conversation I've ever had.
Busybody: Well, she's clearly upset about something!
My thoughts: No duh!
Me: Yes, well, she can't just whine about it. Evangeline, are we staying or going?
Busybody: Well, if she doesn't want to go to class, you shouldn't force her.
My thoughts: Aside from the fact that I'm NOT, I'm glad you have money to throw away like that.
Me: Well, I can't stay here, her sister is out in the waiting room with her homework.
Busybody: There must be something wrong.
Me: Her outfit is too big, but there's not much we can do about that. Evangeline, which is it?
Busybody: No, something in her life.
My thoughts: Well, I sure the hell am not about to talk about the recent changes in her life to YOU, random stranger!
Me: I don't think so :) Eva?
Busybody: You need to talk to her doctor about that.
My thoughts: About tae kwon do? Or sewing?
Me: No, I think she might just be a little tired.
Busybody: Then you shouldn't come here! You should go home so she can rest!
My thoughts: Right, I'm going to make Ana suffer so Evangeline can refuse to take a nap at home.
Me: She's five. She hardly ever naps anymore.
Busybody: You need to talk to the doctor then. Or YOUR doctor if you can't see there's something wrong.
Me: There's nothing wrong. She's five. They throw tantrums.
Busybody: MY child never acted like THAT. (Like "that" is whining and clinging to my leg. It was the quietest tantrum you ever saw.)
My thoughts: Well, bully for you! I'm glad to hear that your child is perfect, your life is perfect, and that YOU are perfect!
Busybody: I mean, if you're not feeling up to taking care of -
At this point I gave up on manners, as she clearly had none, and told her the truth, which is that I was feeling just fine and had no problems until some busybody started sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted.
And then I managed to unstick Evangeline and drag her off to the waiting room, where Ana convinced her to stop the whining portion of her tantrum by asking her to be quiet so we wouldn't have to go home and Ana could make it to her class.
A few minutes later Evangeline had calmed down enough to consent to take a piggyback ride to pick up her shoes from the gym. Along the way we passed one of her teachers (who had come looking for us) and the busybody, who - hilariously - was tattling on me to him!
Busybody: She was one of those women who looks like - oh, there she is now!
I have no IDEA what I look like, because I was there now.
Once back inside the doors another woman told me I was doing nothing wrong, which I knew, of course, but it's nice to hear. I wish I'd been thinking a little faster, I would've sent her out to counter-tattle.
Oh well. My diabolical plan was to convince Evangeline to rejoin her class, but that didn't work. Still, after she got over her embarrassment of the whole situation she was cheerful and chipper right up until we got home and she had to take a shower. We read a few books, and the second chapter of The Penderwicks, and we ate dinner and all, and she was asleep by 8:15... sadly, before her mother came home. She really was a little tired.
I swear, though, I meet the most judgmental people on Thursdays! It was two Thursdays ago, en route to the Y on a bus, that I met Mr. "Control Your Kids", who apparently objected to the kids existing. It was a crowded bus, and their behavior wasn't quite up to my standards, but he would not have even NOTICED they weren't behaving (fidgeting a little, that sort of thing, except that when every inch counts you can't have fidgety children) if I hadn't been reminding them! He apparently felt that "Control your kids" was the necessary refrain to every statement I made, statements such as "No, I'm sorry, you can't look out the window, sweetie" and "Ana, you're crowding your sister there". (There were a few "Don't kick!"s in there as well, but not very many.) I told him what I thought too, in the end. You can think whatever you like, *I* certainly do, but nobody really wants to hear it.