In spite of the weekend's pictures, it's not all sand and sunshine 'round these parts. Last night, for example, after that glorious day at the beach full of swinging and playing in the sand, and after dinner at Butch's Beach Burrito and eating ice cream, and after watching unlimited Magic School Bus DVDs on the way home, Annie had an epic tantrum because I wanted her to . . . get out of the tub. And she was cold (though initially the tub had been Too Hot), and I was standing there, telling her to get out of the tub, actually holding a towel two inches from her and waiting to wrap her in it - you know, to warm her - and instead she stood in the tub and cried about how cold she was.
I tried three separate times to get her to step out of the tub, but she was deeply committed to her naked crying, and my patience ran out. I threw the towel on the floor and told her unkindly to go to her room and dry herself off and get her own pajamas on and OF COURSE SHE WAS COLD; SHE WAS STANDING UP WET AND NAKED IN THE TUB. Ahem. And THIS resulted not in Annie realizing abruptly how insane and irrational she was being, but in her resorting to her go-to response in these kinds of situations, which is to insist, "You don't love me!" There were tears, there was stomping, and there was eventually a note of apology pushed from under her bedroom door.
Then today, Jemma got gum stuck in her hair because she was taking the gum out of her mouth and stretching it even though I have told her 24943204 times not to ever, ever do that. When I catch her even touching the gum that is in her mouth, I make her spit it out and throw it away. But today she somehow got it in her hair, on her forehead, on her right arm, on her cheek, and below her lower lip. And even though the peanut-butter-gets-out-gum thing was floating around in the back of my brain (the way back, though), I cut it out. I just couldn't bear the idea of googling peanut butter home remedies and making a huge mess and getting her into the shower and washing peanut butter out of her. So I cut it, and I did a pretty good job, too. (The damage was limited.) Then I made her go to the drawer, get the brand-new-minus-one-piece package of gum, and throw it in the garbage. Wasteful? Yes. But I was going for high-impact deterrent, so I think it was 99 cents well spent.
I am the only person in the house who regularly flushes toilets or turns out lights.
Jason left at 7:30 for a work-related meeting with the understanding that he'd be back in time for me to run. That was over two hours ago.
The girls were arguing with one another so ridiculously and continuously tonight throughout dinner and afterwards, during getting-ready-for-bedtime activities (at one point, I told them to "stop fighting" for the tenth time, and Annie responded sassily that they "weren't fighting, cause I'd be using a sword against a villain"), that I announced that I was leaving the house to go take a short walk. This led, predictably, to Annie wailing, "She doesn't love me!" to Jason.
The big, old tree in our front yard is sick or possibly dying. I have an arborist coming over tomorrow morning to tell us if it can be saved. I may cry if he says no.
I burned a pot of brown rice for tonight's dinner, and Jason has left it in the sink "to soak." We all know what that means.
There are only three and a half more days of school until I have to call Annie a second-grader. Also, until both girls are together all day, every day for three solid months. HOLD ME.
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OH my. I'm sorry. And THANK YOU.
ReplyDeleteI love all your posts: the beautiful photos AND the truth-telling stories. Both pierce me right through.
I wanted to say thank you for the 110% spot-on comment you left on my blog, and that I really, deeply get your statement about the rice in the pan, and also the lights. Oh yes.
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