This week marked a change in Claire's adult aspirations. No longer is she seeking future employment as a "princess-doctor." Now, she's set her sights on piracy. The impetus for this change was Dan's introduction of Pippi Longstocking to Claire's visual diet. If you're not familiar with this character, let me fill you in. Pippi is the abandoned daughter of a South Seas pirate who lives on her own in a large house that she runs as she pleases. She has a couple of friends, several animals, and a horse that looks like she painted it. Basically, Pippi does crazy, destructive--and yet creative things in the house and the surrounding town. Pippi swings from chandeliers, skates through her house on mops, and generally causes an unapologetic disruption to the townfolks' mundane lives. But wait... this sounds a lot like the lives of some of my students at the school where I teach!! So maybe Pippi isn't so unrealistic. 
Pippi pretty much does whatever Pippi wants. Claire has asked that we no longer call her "Claire." We now must call her "Pippi Longstocking." Now, when you ask Claire what she wants to be when she grows up, she'll tell you that she'd like to become a pirate. My response, "dangerous profession." Hey, at least we'll save on college expenses. The upside of Pippi Longstocking is that there are series of easy chapter books that tell Pippi's stories. Dan bought these chapter books for Claire. Amazingly, Claire will sit for long periods of time, listening to Dan read these books without any pictures. If Claire's behavior is immature, her attention span in listening to these stories is truly advanced.
But, let's get to the abused Amaryllis. For Christmas we received the lovely and thoughtful gift of an amaryllis bulb with pot and peat pellet. What a wonderful idea! Let's teach the children about forcing bulbs!! Then we'll have a beautiful flower in the rainy month of March. That was the intent and my idea. We prepared the pot and planted the bulb. Within a few days, it started to sprout and grow. Two future amaryllis blossoms emerged from the bulb. This was truly exciting. That's when the crime began... One night at about 7:00 (when Claire does most of her bad things), Claire walked up to the amaryllis, grabbed one of the blossoms, tore it off at the base, looked at me, smiled, and ran off at top speed, squealing all the way. I gave chase immediately, calling her name. Claire threw the green evidence (just like the kids at my school), and hid behind the chair in the living room (yes, the destroyed chair). I dragged her out and interrogated her for the criminal act. She just looked at me and screamed a defiant battle cry. Quickly, I took several deep breaths and forcibly carried her to the bathroom. It was bath time, and I needed a corral to keep her from running.
Claire cried and angrily screamed. I thought that she was perhaps sorry for the amaryllis assault. I was wrong. I asked, "Claire, why would you ruin the flower like that?" She responded, "I hate flowers in the house. They are really dumb." I said, "it wasn't your flower to ruin. You can't just wreck things that you don't like." Claire remained defiant, screaming. My next move was to try to bathe her. She was tired, and in a really destructive, angry mood. Not good. Somehow I managed to get her into the tub, and washed. She took a couple of swings at my during the bath, and attempted to throw water at me. I decided that it was over. I wrapped her in a pink towel, and used it as a straight-jacket. I carried her like a pink sausage, up the stairs, with her protesting all the way. She even tried to spit on me. This was a new low. She was forcibly clothed and her teeth brushed. Kicks and swinging fists were attempted, but unsuccessful. I chanted my new mantra, "I am not going to spank you... I am not going to spank you... we don't hit... we don't hit..." My final words to her were: "You're done. I love you." and the door was shut. She was asleep in five minutes.
It's at these moments that I usually begin researching behavioral disorders. Claire fits the characteristics for oppositional defiant disorder... with one major problem: at the bottom of the disorder description it states, "These behaviors are considered normal if the child is three or four years old." So, this is "normal?" Well, that's reassuring.
At a recent birthday party, given by one of Claire's preschool classmates, I discussed the behavior with another parent. He said, "My son does that kind of thing all the time. He has absolutely no empathy for others at this point. He shredded a house plant for no apparent reason, just the other day." I felt like saying, "Oh good. I'm so relieved! That's great to hear." Fortunately, I held myself back.
Now, back to the amaryllis. Since the initial attack the amaryllis had made a nice recovery. The remaining blossom and leaves had grown taller... stretching toward the artificial light that summoned them. Then, the unthinkable happened. I came into the room, and noticed that the amaryllis and all it's leaves had been flattened... completely smashed. It looked a piece from the Salvador Dali museum: The Persistence of Memory. It was that flat. I hoped that perhaps the cat had done this. Or possibly I'd let the amaryllis get too dry, and it had just flopped over. Reluctantly, I asked Claire what had happened. She said, "I did it because I didn't like the flower. Flowers should be outside, not inside."
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