Mommy Dearest

My sister is doing a program to become an early childhood education teacher. She chose a Saturday-only class so that she could still stay home and watch the kids during the week, while Unka Rop worked. But eventually, the program involves classroom observations and internships, which kind of have to be done on weekdays. Right ow she's doing observations, or something, which are somewhat flexible, in that she has to do so many days within a certain time period, but she can double up on half-days, and she can do a day here and a day there, rather than M-F several weeks in a row.
Enter: Me.
So I can usually squeeze in a 2-day visit with an overnight stay, almost weekly, if needed. Apparently there have been a bunch of teacher job fairs (her program ends this summer, so she'll be hireable soon.) For the job fairs out in my neck of the woods, our mom watches the girls, or I come up and help. But this week she had a teacher seminar thing she was invited to on Tuesday, when schools were closed for the President's Day holiday, and needed me by noon. Since I was spending the night and staying the next day anyway, we agreed that she might as well squeeze in an observation day Wednesday!
So naturally, my almost-three-year-old was on her best behavior. Refusing to obey any request or command. Pushing, kicking and even one biting incident when having disputes with her cousins. [Great. I get the biter. *sigh*] Oh, and hoarding toys and screeching if anyone so much as looked at her. Yay.

On the plus side, I get a glimpse at how my mothering skills decrease exponentially with each additional rug rat. When it's just her and me, and she's having a fit, I say something along the lines of: [Identify] "I see you're upset. You sound sad and angry." [Let her know you're listening] "I'm trying to understand. Let me know when you're ready to talk." [Show you understand her problem.] "You want a chocolate right now. I hear you." [Empathize] "I want to give you chocolate..." [Explain, now that she's all calmed down and ready to listen] "... but right now it's time for lunch." [...aaaand distract] "I know! Let's go pick out one of my special forks to eat your lunch with!"
Me after a day with 3 kids, aged 4, almost-3, and 2: "Shut it! I'm tired of hearing you whine! That's it! Scram! Everyone in different rooms RIGHT NOW!"
Ah. Motherhood.