Money for nothin'

It's been a rough couple of weeks. We've been living in repetitious cycle, consisting of the following fun activities with our daughter:

Step 1: Refuse to do something (such as brushing teeth)
Step 2: Refuse 2nd request, stomp feet
Step 3: Refuse more loudly. Scream if necessary.
Step 4: Start the waterworks. Continue refusing, even when presented with potential negative consequence, such as possible time out.
Step 5: Scream, yell, and/or hit, as needed when being escorted to naughty chair
Step 6: continue yelling and screaming. Stand firmly, arms crossed, chin up when refusing to sit in naughty chair. Ignore various warnings that time portion of punishment will not start until properly seated
Step 7: finally sit. Try to play with cat, talk to /yell at parents while seated
Step 8: When finally released from punishment, behave for 3 minutes before finding another reason to repeat cycle.
Start again with Step 1.

In an effort to break the cycle, we decided to put in an incentive plan for good behavior - a star board. If she behaves (as she ought to without promise of recompense) she gets a star. If she gets 10 stars, she can pick a prize from a bowl of $1 target bin goodies we picked up this weekend. Stars do get taken away if she behaves badly. So far, so good. She's up to 5 stars, and is enthusiastic about earning more. Let's hope we've turned a corner!

I Statements

Ava continues to work on her "I statements" at home. These are phrases such as "I feel sad when I have to go home at the end of the day". Apparently, according to one of her teachers, this exercise is supposed to enable her to communicate why she is behaving the way she is, and so on. (Because all of you who have met Ava know that she's seriously deficient in communication skill.)
At our house, however, the I statement is a clearly manipulative tool, meant to garner pity and gain one's hearts desire. "I feel sad when you won't take me to a different park," and "I feel mad when you punish me for throwing the kitty".
Durr. Yesterday, Casey and I must have spent the better part of our day lecturing how the world did not revolve around Ava, and that how she was really barking up the wrong tree if she thought such blatantly manipulative statements would convince two parents who were both youngest children, and as such, were complete masters of much more sophisticated tools of parental manipulation.
Much yelling. Many many trips to the Naughty chair.
Finally, near the end of the night, after stories were read, and Ava was in bed, I thought we were finally having a breakthrough with the lesson. When I told her that she needed to care more about what other people thought or wanted, she replied: "I care about Daddy's feelings." Ok, I get a skip. I can live with that.
Then, after rubbing her back for a time in our nightly ritual, I lean over to kiss her goodnight. I hear her whisper, "I'm sorry, Mommy." My heart melts. Until she continues: "I'm sorry I didn't get to go to the park."