Today Ivy was exercising her mastery of the art of cheerful noncompliance.

Giving any sort of direction she would cheerfully tell me “No thanks!” and dance off in the opposite direction or say things like “I’m writing a Christmas Card to Johny. How do you spell Love Johnny?”

When taking a shower with Clara she cheerfully washed Clara’s hair after I had to her not to, all the while telling me how helpful she was.

When told to get dressed she continued to turn a 70 sheet tablet of colored paper into confetti (also known as dinosaurs, sailboats, and trains) which she would give to Clara (the confetti spreader), while telling me she was putting her clothes on in “just a moment,” all the while turning our house into a colorful fire hazard.

When asked to sign her name on a birthday card under the writing, she smiles and says… “How about over here?”

The worst part is she knows what she is doing, as soon as she pushes things a bit too far she happily dials back down, right before she pushes a few more of my buttons with a big smile plastered on.

The girls are having a lovely time.

Ivy is skating the edge of getting into trouble and squeaking back out of it.

I’m beyond crabby.

Is there anything worse than a kid who cheerfully ignores all suggestions/commands/threats/demands/if/then statements and then at the last second happily complies?

It’s enough to make me want to throw that noisy-smiling-confetti-making little face out in a snow bank.

I think I need more Diet Coke.