Monday, March 03, 2008
There's a Monster in My House
Two and a half. I don't wish it on anyone. Today, I've been screamed at for the wrong show, hit, kicked, ordered to jump on the trampoline, ordered to get up and jump higher while taking a rest on the trampoline, ordered to run faster around the perimeter of the trampoline 'till I was almost in tears (out of frustration, not pain... but it was pretty exhausting AND nauseating running in circles like that!), screamed at to come outside, screamed at to paint, screamed at when the TV "broke", hit when I was trying to offer grapes and grapes were not wanted, kicked while trying to hold the ankles extending from a poopy bum (which is NOT good--- poop+angry movement= bad news and therefore...), essentially pooped on, cannon-balled onto from the the coffee table while sitting on the couch (her knees landed on MY extended shins- felt good), screamed at for painting with the wrong paint brush....**
Cried on when she dropped her water cup on her little toe, kissed whenever I ask for it, snuggled with during 6 am toon-time, smiled at with the sweetest pride when I gasp at the beauty of her paintings, laughed at with the heartiest belly-laugh when I run so fast on the trampoline my feet slip out from under me... and then there's that thing where she cups my chin so soft and stares at my face. That's my favorite.
So maybe it IS all worth it. I didn't plan on writing paragraph number two. She's actually been driving me perfectly and completely and *incandescently MAD.
*Probably doesn't really work in this context eh?
** And yes don't worry... all sorts of time-outs, lectures, nice-mommy, mean-mommy, I'm trying everything to no avail. Or so it feels.