Negotiating with Toddlerists.

I cringe at the words "negotiate", "barter" or "compromise". Anything really that suggests I need to go back and forth with someone until we're both happy. (I should state that when it comes to our marriage, I can handle some compromise here and there.) Knowing that it isn't in my skill set, you can imagine my surprise when I told Teagan we'd read 3 books at bedtime (the standard for the better part of her 2 1/2 years) and she counters with "5 books." 

Me: "No, 3 books."

Teagan: "NO, 5 books."

Me: "3."

Teagan: "4."

Me: "What is happening here?" We read three. But I'm bringing her to my next yard sale.

Much like those at the helm of The United States of America, I refuse to negotiate with terrorists, regardless of how adorable they might be. Let the record show that she has some work to do - the next time she tried it, she went the wrong way.

Me: "We'll snuggle for 5 minutes."

Teagan: "3."

Me: "You win this one."

She tried it again when we were in Canada and got my little sister in some hot water. My Dad likes to play a little game when we come home from dates and social events. He's the world's lightest sleeper, so he knows when the garage opens, he knows when a car is in the driveway and he knows when the front door opens and closes. Meaning, he knows EXACTLY what time you came home and when someone else leaves. But he always asks anyway, just to see if your answer coincides.
Dad: "So, Nicola, what time did you get home last night?"

Nicola: "2."

Teagan: "No, 5." Busted.

I must say that in the last several weeks, Teagan has finally grasped the concept of "If you do this, you can have that", which may fall under the umbrella of negotiating? Something I thought she should have been able to recognize a little earlier (hence not attempting potty training) but I'm just happy she's got it now. A few months ago, I made the mistake of insisting that she stay at the table until she'd eaten three bites of something. Longest meal of my life. Oh, how I wish I could snatch my words right out of the air and take them back. But I couldn't. And I didn't. And I didn't say them again for a while. 

Today at lunch, we had vegetable soup - "letter soup" to Teagan. And yes, it was just shy of 100 degrees. Basking in the glow of her feeding her body and mind (picking out letters and reciting them to me) I noticed that she was just picking out letters. I inspected her bowl to find a sea of floating vegetables and not a noodle letter in sight. Light bulb. I insisted that she eat a vegetable from her bowl in exchange for a letter from mine. And it worked! A far cry from the 5 servings a day she's supposed to be eating, I consider three green beans, two potatoes and half a carrot cube to be a victory today.