Written @ 9:10 a.m. on 2007-05-14
All The Little Rascals in ONE
Well, the universe has spoken. I mentioned a book that really helped me, The Depression Workbook, here in my diary, and a person who reads my diary bought it, and it is helping her and her family. Isn't that awesome? Ok, so got the message, Universe. Keep writing.
Today is the first day of the rest of my summer (heehee! You thought I'd say life!). I have let the babysitters go and I am now...(cue scary music) home. fulltime. with the kids. Yesterday was stressful for me with the girls. I was beginning to stress whether I'd be able to handle this. It's going to mean changes for everyone.
B. woke me up with earrings to match the necklace he gave me last week. That was awesome. Pablo played a couple of rounds of Guess Who with the girls, and then was on his merry way. P. made bisquits for breakfast out of the can that goes "Pop", and drew me a hot tub, and N. colored me a lovely Mother's Day card.
Then an evil monster visited our house, INESCAPABLE SINUS HEADACHE. I retreated to bed with the New York Times Magazine and stayed there most of the day. I tried without drugs, with drugs, standing up, laying down, going outside, going inside, ("putting my left foot in, my left foot out, and shaking it all about...") couldn't shake the pain.
B. made shishkabobs on the grill for his parents and invited us.It would have been a lovely evening at B's family's house, but I was grumpy and P. decided to completely disregard anything I said for the night. She wouldn't stop eatting potato chips after I said no. She looked me right in the eye and took more. She asked me for a drink, and ended up making mudpies while I was getting her juice. She was black with dirt, head to toe. I'm usually very cool about dirt, but not at B's mom's house, you know? When everyone sat at the table, she refused to eat dinner, of course, because she ate a whole potato chip factory. I ended up taking P. for a drive, and telling her I was taking her home for the spanking of her life unless she wanted to be good. Sigh. AFTER that, she asked if she could watch cartoons, and I said no, she should go outside and play. She went to B's mom and asked her! And she, of course, said yes, and then, my darling, sweet baby, looked over her shoulder and gave me the snottiest look ever created in history. OH MY GOD! Who stole my baby and gave me BRAT-ZILLA!? B. and I had to have a little conversation on the porch to talk me into actually bringing the kid home with me and not leaving her on someone's doorstep.
"It's a kids' job to challenge rules," he said.
"I JUST disciplined her! Five minutes ago! I just! Gasp! Choke!" (Insert redfaced puffing).
Out behind the house P. and I go.
"I am so upset with you that I want to cry right now. Do you know what you did?"
"No, Mommy."
"I just told you no TV! I JUST TOLD YOU! Why did you ask B's mom if I just told you no? You are making me so mad I don't know what to do with you! Ahhhhh!"
"I'm sorry, Mommy." She was genuinely shocked at my near-heart-attack.
"Really sorry?"
"Yes, Mommy, I am really sorry. I'll be good."
"We could have a nice time if I wasn't yelling at you all night. Be good! Just stop trying to be the boss. If we have two bosses we will never get anything done. I am the boss. You are the kid. You do what I say. You are embarrassing the hell out of me in front of B's parents. I want them to know how sweet you are!"
"Ok, Mommy. Sorry."
"Ok. I love you. I don't like yelling."
"Love you."
N., in contrast, was perfect. She played Chutes and Ladders with B's mom, ate dinner with good manners and was generally good. I swear she does it on purpose. If P. starts acting up, she is real good in order to collect all brownie points available. Sheesh. Kids! They are so fun to make!
I know P. is going to grow up to be a fiesty go-getter, and it will take her far, but right now she seems to be the whole pack of Little Rascals all by herself!