That's my nickname for my beloved 6 year old daughter.

Two weeks ago, she started the next level in swimming lessons. It looked like she did well in the lesson, but came out of the water crying.

We skipped lessons last Sunday because the weather & roads were too bad.

DD has been freaking out about swimming lessons ever since. She cries and whines and asks how many lessons are left, and then freaks out over the number...

Drag her to lessons this morning, and we are 20 minutes early, and I am treated to 20 minutes of I hate you mom, I'm going to hit you, I'm running away from home, I hate you, how many lessons are left, why won't you tell me, if you don't tell me I will hit you, why aren't you answering me (I don't answer when you talk to me that way), I hate you, she hits me a few times, and on and on with the I hate you talk.

I have to drag her by the arm over to the instructor, and she's freaking out and I walk away to the far end of the pool and hide.

I watch parts of her lesson. She's not crying. She's doing fine. She even jumps off the diving board together with the instructor, holding his hand.

She comes out of the pool happy.

I'm a wreck.