Have you ever seen two mountain goats on the same rock? One has claimed that territory for themselves and along comes another with the same idea. Next thing you know, the goats are butting heads. Real head to head, horns locked, no holds bard stubborn action. That is what having a strong-willed daughter feels like. Mom and daughter become two stubborn goats, occupying the same space, neither one willing to give up or give in to the other.
Now, toss in a mandatory shelter-in-place order and that head-strong goat morphs into a full-grown charging bull. My daughter is the bull. Strong-willed. Stubborn. Undeterred. And I, her mother who loves her more than life, have become her matador. With a great respect for the bull, I inadvertently manage to wave the red flags before her, spurring on her temper. I spend my time drawing her attention all the while trying to avoid impalement by her pointed temper.