Why there are days when I could kill my daughter

I know I have gone on and on about my Taylor and how she drives me absolutely mad. Alot of this may be repeat of past posts about her. It's just that it is the same thing over and over. Bear with me please.

She's a whinger. A conversation can not be had with her without whingeing and whining. Not on my part, but on hers. I am not a whinger, I am a yeller but even when I am at my most calm she whinges which eventually causes me to lose all patience and start screaming.

Example: On Saturday morning she was getting ready to go to the library with her friend Zack. She came into my room wearing her Girl Guides shirt and yoga pants. I said her shirt was for Guides only and not going out. "But I nevre get to wear it!" Whinge, whinge. "That's because it is for Guides, you are meant to wear it once a week." Very calm. She next comes into my room with a bright orange Halloween shirt on. "It's not Halloween." says I. "But Liam wore one and never got in trouble. Why can he do it and not me." On and on she goes. I explain that I did not see Liam dressed like that and had I, he would have been asked to chnage. Halloween shirts are for Halloween, St. Patrick's Day shirts are for March 17 and so on. Right over her head. She nexts come into my room in a jumper that can only be described as burnt orange. With navy blue yoga pants. There was a fit over me asking her to change pants. This was nothing over the argument that took place moments later when I saw her bedroom which not did have a single inch of visible flooring. This argument continued while I ripped a brush through her hair. I shan't get into it, but suffice it to say that if Social Services had been a fly on the wall I might currently be daughterless.

She's a stubborn wee thing. She has been stubborn since birth. Prior to it actually. After 36 hours of off and on labour she finally decided to make an appearance, forcep scars and all. She must have known was she was in for, poor girl.

She's lazy. This child hates to clean, hates to do homework, hates to do anything that is not for herself. And even things that are a benefit to herself come to think of it. That would include a reasonable clean room and completed homework.

She's a liar. I hate to say that, but it is very true. She lies about absolutely everything, from her brother picking on her to schoolwork. Liam could be in the next room and she would tell me he has hit her. She once accused him of bothering her while he was in the basement and she was in her room. Two full floors away. She lies almost everyday about her homework using the tried and true excuses of "I left it at school", "I finished it in class", "I forgot my agenda." And oh, that agenda. I was going through it the other night and saw a note saying that Taylor had two incomplete math assignments and the next step would be a conduct report. Now, Taylor does realize that she is on the verge of being kicked out of the gifted programming she does. Apparently, this does not bother her at all. She has had since November to improve and has not done so at all, not one iota. I could let everything else go, the poor sense of fashion, the messy room, everything, if only she would take school more seriously. I often say to her only chance of a higher education is via scholarships and with her smarts she would be able to get them if only she applied herself. Not in Grade 10 or 12, but now. She just doesn't care.

Our new rule is that the moment she gets home she does her homework and leaves her agenda and the completed work on the table for me to sign. This was to start yesterday. I was due home by quarter after 5, my mum was to meet them all at the house just after 3.30. A few other rules were given, as this was the first time neither William or I would be there. These included no going into my room to watch T.V. with her friends and to clean their mess in the entryway. When I got home the entryway was a mess, coats on the floor and all, including a bag with the agenda still in it. Taylor and her friend Ashley were in my room. "I forgot" she whinged to me. "Isn't that convenient," I said "that you can forget everything you are asked to do and yet you can remember that you want to have a sleepover?"

Typical, I suppose.