And the so the battle begins...

I had a long-overdue hair appointment yesterday after work, and my sweet husband was nice enough to take on the parenting responsibilities alone until I finished. He did a fantastic job, as he always does, but Blair didn't get a bath last night. No big deal, right? I'd just give her one this morning.

Of course that would mean that the Boog would choose this morning to want to sleep late. I had her bath drawn, milk warmed, vitamin out, clothes out...everything ready so that I could dip her in the tub, get her dressed, and head out the door. We try to leave between 7:15/7:20 each morning so that I can get her to daycare and me to work. So this morning, at 7:00, I finally woke her up. She was fine - talking, snuggling, laughing, even used the potty! Then it was time for the bath, which didn't go over so well. I knew it wouldn't - who wants to get up and go straight into the tub? We all need a few minutes to wake up, right? So I had mustered up an extra batch of patience, because I knew it would be a struggle.

And a struggle it was. There was screaming. There was splashing. There was crying. Finally, at 7:15, I had to take a stand. I informed her that we'd done it her way, and now we were going to be late so we had to do it Mommy's way. She didn't like Mommy's way. Not one bit. After wrestling with her to get her at least semi-clean, I got her out of the tub and was trying to dry her off. More wrestling ensued. I looked her in the eye and asked her as lovingly - but firmly - as I could whether she knew who was going to win this fight...

She stopped sobbing and flailing, looked straight into my eyes, and said as clearly and confidently as I've ever heard her say anything ..."Blair."

Bring it, Boog!