Win-Win

Remember back in Quandaries when I explained the game Ella and I play where she thinks she's clever by sneaking out of her room at nap time and magically standing within three feet of me without me knowing, and I think I'm equally clever by pretending I don't see her so I can go about my business without having to parent her back to bed? She used to only come out when she knew I was in my room and she wanted to play in the hallway, but over the months she's become emboldened by what she believes is her success and has taken her game to the downstairs level where she more brazenly "sneaks" around. Whereas she used to slink downstairs and play while I did yard work and couldn't possibly see her, she now goes so far as to tip toe into the playroom and attempt to invisibly screw around while I'm working at the kitchen table. The playroom is supposed to be a dining room and so is fully visible from the kitchen, making her fully un-invisible. She'll make all sorts of clatter by tripping on toys and dropping stuff that she's trying to get down from high shelves by herself (because she couldn't possibly ask me), and somehow believes I don't hear what is happening ten feet away. She even crawled under the kitchen table once while I was sitting at it writing and thought she had actually gotten away with it. And I let her think that because, like I said, she was supposedly not even downstairs, which left her stuck under the table. Talk about a quandary. She didn't think that one through too well.

Sometimes Ella actually does pull off the deception, though, and really will make it to freedom without me knowing it. She'll color quietly color in the corner of the family room while I make dinner or type away in the kitchen and I don't see her until I get up to go to the bathroom or something. She freezes and I'll pretend not to have seen her, and in that way we can co exist happily for another half and hour or so.

The other day Ella came downstairs loudly and actually approached me for a snack, and there's no ignoring that, so I sent her back upstairs. After that, she came into the kitchen about every ten minutes and asked me if it was time to come downstairs yet. And I kept sending her back upstairs to take her nap. She was crabby that day and I thought she needed one, even though she insisted she didn't. I actually thought she was going back upstairs in between appearances, but I was wrong. She was hiding quietly in the family room, biding her time.

As it turned out, I was right, she was tired, but she was too stubborn to admit it and this is where it landed her:

asleep in her hiding spot.

She sure showed me! And in a way, I guess I showed her, too.