Maybe she should be in charge...
I once read a blog post that made me want to laugh and cry in recognition, all at the same time.  The mom described a half crazed trip to the home improvement store with three small kids in tow and an upset stomach.  She had to make a mad dash to the bathroom, then negotiate how to manage the situation.  She describes sitting on the toilet with an infant on her lap, another child holding her hand, and the four year old holding the mom's purse over her shoulder and watching the whole scene with disapproval.  The mom in question reported feeling (besides generally sick and miserable) sort of disoriented, as though she had become the repentant child and her four year old had become a tiny, angry parent.  I sometimes have moments like that with Mariel, where I wonder if maybe she is (or should be?) the one in charge.   Sometimes these are moments of borderline insanity, others are more heartwarming. 
Tonight we had one of the funny, warm times when she suddenly morphed into the miniature adult.  She, Noella and I sat down to dinner (Patrick was not home yet) and Noella descending into a bad mood. She shoved her plate and cup away and started screaming NO when either Mariel or I spoke to or even looked at her.  I said to Mariel "Lets just ignore her for a few minutes.  You and I can have a nice conversation of our own."  "OK, Mom," said Mariel.  She put her fork down, sat up primly in her chair, crossed her legs and took a little breath.  "So, Mom, how was your day?" she asked in her best tea party tone of voice.  "Can you tell me what your favorite part was?"   She smiled and folded her hands to wait for my answer, looking for all the world like an elderly church lady at a very proper luncheon.
I think my favorite part was that precise moment.