The Wonderful World of Flamechick

We go through phases - sometimes she is very much "different", other times she is a happy lovely little girl and I am convinced I am paranoid and insane.

This week has been a me being insane week.

It started this time last week. She came home from school all happy (not firing her lunchbox at me and glaring about not being allowed to go to Gran's). She lay in my lap for 45mins whilst I debugged her.

She has had the odd strop this week, but nothing out of the ordinary. She hasn't even complained about having cheese sandwiches instead of pink butter (pate)!

This morning - she decided she was being a dog and Flameboy was her owner, then on the way to school she was the baddy and he was the policeman. She has very rarely done imaginative play of her own accord - it is normally another child/me/Gran giving the directions.

After school we went to Psycho's house. She normally clams up, refuses to talk to her, look her in the eye, clings to my leg, mumbles. Tonight she was the child she was as a toddler - she was happy, she spoke, she was fine about going home, she even gave a kiss and hug - I can't remember the last time she did that!

My happy little girl that I remember was back.

Then the clock struck 7pm and she turned into a pumpkin (or raging arguing tantrum machine). I don't remember what set it off, but whatever it was, she was gone. I didn't keep my temper

I took her dinner away because she refused to say sorry/acknoledge us at all instead of whimpery groaning. She then fought against getting undressed, washing, drying, putting her pjs on. I quit somewhere between washing and drying, and the much more patient Boy took over.

She went to bed without me kissing or saying good night.

Why can't I stay calm and handle it??? Why do I resort to her level, take it to heart and sob into my wine??

Why do I let myself believe that it was all my imagination?

Just "why?" really.