Two in row.

My daughter can be the greatest kid on the planet.

She's gorgeous, smart, and understands higher thinking. She "gets" sarcasm and can add double digit numbers in her head. She speaks in metaphors. She hangs out with all kinds of kids and stands up for the kids who aren't always included. She spends hours designing "stores" in her bedroom or inventing intricate play scenarios for us. She wants to rescue animals when she grows up.

However... (and you must have known this was coming, especially if you know Ella...)

She can also be the biggest brat on the planet.

Ella's first spoken word was "WHAT?!?" (with attitude). I'm not even kidding. We would joke about "oh no, we're in trouble..." and laugh. Little did we know...

She's moody, tempermental, clumsy. Oh, and did I mention STUBBORN?? When you ask her to whisper, she screams. When you ask her to help you out, she either refuses or spits on the floor in response. She plays the martyr to perfection. "You don't love me as much as you love Ben" is the constant refrain out of her mouth. She whines. ALL. OF. THE. TIME.

Today, Ben went down for his nap early, since he'd been up since 5:45 or some insane time. I told Ella I was going to take a shower, and she could watch something on PBS. This is our usual routine, and it works. EXCEPT...
I heard it coming up the stairs...the whine...a little bit of teariness in the voice...the two-syllabled "Mo-om" that makes me cringe....
Ella: "I'm hungry."
Mom: "Well, I can't really help you out right now. Look in the pantry for a snack."
A minute later, she's back up, screaming that she can't find anything. I suggest blueberries from the fridge.
Ella: "Don't you know anything? I'm not a fan of blueberries, reMEMber??"
Mom: "Well, I'll be out in five. Can you wait?"
Ella: "NO!" Leaves bathroom screaming.
Mom: (in a snake-like hiss) "Eleanor. GET. IN. HERE."
She screams from the hallway, outside of her brother's bedroom: "NO!"
In my deadliest whisper, I tell her that if she doesn't stop screaming/if she wakes her brother up, she will spend the rest of the morning in her bedroom.
Ella: "FINE. I DON'T CARE. YOU LOVE HIM MORE ANYWAY. AND YOU'RE STARVING ME." Then she runs back down the stairs "DON'T YOU DARE COME DOWN HERE MOMMY!"
I shrug, since the danger is passed and at least she's away from Ben's room.
Two minutes later, she's back in the bathroom, crying. Her bug bite itches, can I put some "carolina lotion" on it? Sure, I say, it's in my bedroom.
Ella: "MOM? I CAN'T FIND IT."
Mom: "Shhhhhh....it's right on the mantle."
Crash.

I end the shower, get dressed, and come down stairs. She's lying on the floor in front of the TV, quiet as a mouse. I throw the bag of raisin bread at her and leave her alone.

Did I mention she's my Doppleganger?