About Distracted Daddy
Distracted Daddy is a working father with a two-year-old daughter, a focused wife and a flatulent pug. When he’s not distracted he blogs about poop, parenting and other things at distracteddaddy.com.
Who's the Boss?
distracted daddy: baby for a boss canada
(Sep.15.11)
There was a time when the family was run by the man. He did the deciding. His family followed his orders. He was the boss. I’m not familiar with this mythical time, I’ve only watched it on Mad Men. And I’m certainly not the boss in this family. Times have changed.
Who’s the boss? Here’s a hint, it’s neither Tony nor Angela. Eh, oh. Oh, eh!
If you’re looking for the boss, look down, look way down. Look right at my toddler. My bossy little toddler. She calls the shots around here. She’s the decider.
She wears the pants in this family, and those pants are a size 2T.
Little miss bossypants appeared soon after our toddler developed language skills. With language came control. She could tell us what to do, and she does.
“Daddy, play.” “Daddy, look.” “Daddy, sit.”
When she asks you to sit, my daughter will tap the area of the ground for you to plant yourself. When she taps that area, she means that area. Sit six inches away and she will be forced to repeat herself. “No, here!” You must move to the correct spot.
If an activity is happening at our house and you’re not joining in, our daughter will call you out. Whether that activity is peek-a-boo or exposing your belly button or sticking out your tongue, my daughter demands participation. She will point at you and demand the task be completed. On more than one occasion she has even pointed at the dog and demanded that he participate in peek-a-boo.
Of course, lest you think that my daughter is simply a taskmaster assigning uh, tasks. That’s not the case. She also tells us what not to do.
“No, I do it,” she says. Again and again.
She has a very independent streak. More like an independent swath. My daughter could be singing by herself and if you join, she’ll cut you off. “No, I do it.” It was obviously a solo and not a duet. Back off Piscopo she’s saying.
Try to help her up the stairs. “No, I do it.” Try to help her put on pants. “No, I do it.” Wait for her to be frustrated when she can’t do it and you’ll hear. “Daddy, help!” Then I do it.
We have tried to instill manners into our Type A toddler, we don’t want her Bruce Springsteen-ness to run rampant. Now instead of rudely pushing people out of the way, she loudly says excuse me as she pushes people out of the way. Miss Manners wouldn’t approve.
Thankfully, this bossiness is just a phase. She’ll eventually grow out of it. Or at least she’ll eventually get married and have a different man to boss around.