I yelled a lot today. Would you like to hear about it?
The morning was fine, which was good because for some reason I was OUT OF IT all morning. I remember having some intense dream (all my dreams are intense lately, ugh) and then suddenly I had this thought: there are brownies! in the kitchen! Yes. I thought this. SUE ME. Then it occurred to me if I got up RIGHT THEN, I could eat brownies for breakfast without the children catching me. Possibly I need to go to Carbs Anonymous?
So anyway, I stumbled out of bed, half awake, for BROWNIES. Although honestly, is there really a better reason? But either I woke up too soon or too fast because I was only halfway present in the real world for a good solid hour or two. I managed to get the kids breakfast and all that, and thank goodness they decided to have one of their great big imaginary games instead of bickering at each other all morning because SERIOUSLY, I was SPACED OUT.
So I don't think the yelling started until lunch time. I gave Molly some yogurt, and as she is wont to do with yogurt or anything drippy and wet, some of it plopped on the table. No big deal. But by the time I got to the table to clean it up, Molly had smudged it EVERYWHERE, with her PALM and was looking at me like, "No biggie, Mom, I'm just furthering my creativity" and I was mad. MAD. The child is nearly three. She's been eating yogurt on her own for a LONG TIME. She shouldn't have it smeared all over hands and face and my TABLE.
Then, as I am wont to do, I barked at her and harrumphed and carried on and roughly wiped her up and ordered her to her room. Whereupon, of course, she started to cry. And that just made me angrier.
"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"
And she shuffled off (Molly always makes certain you know that she really doesn't want to do whatever you are ordering her to do) and I fumed and raved to myself and then I hear her crying take on a different tone. A tone I am quite familiar with, yet one I still don't manage to tend to in time. The cry that says, "I'm really upset! So upset I'm going to PEE MY PANTS!"
Which she did. All over her bed. And you thought I was mean and yelly BEFORE.
Oh man. I am just DONE with this potty training thing. DOOOOOONE. I swear we've been doing this for a year. I am totally willing to say it's my fault, that I started too early, that she wasn't ready blah blah blah. But you know what? I would have sworn she WAS ready.
I have to say that 90% of the time she uses the potty. And ever since we started using Miralax on a regular basis (SORRY FUTURE MOLLY) we haven't had to deal with days on end of, well, TRAUMA. But she is MOST unwilling to use the potty for THOSE occasions and then there are her random... spells. The times when she gets upset. The times she forgets. The times it just appears that she doesn't CARE.
I know you aren't supposed to go off on a kid who just wet her pants but BY GOLLY I WANTED TO. I just feel like: YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! YOU KNOW! YOU KNOOOOOOW! And I am SO SICK of cleaning up! GAH!
I also know that potty training is one of those things even super bloggers choose not to write about, but I'm just gonna say that this is all YOUR fault, Molly. You are KILLING ME WITH THIS.
The other night I turned to Phillip and said, "Remember when she just wouldn't walk? Like she knew what to do, and she knew that we knew that she knew what to do, but she just WOULDN'T? And when she wouldn't go to bed before midnight? No matter what we tried? She just WOULDN'T? Do you think this is the same kind of thing? IN WHICH CASE WE ARE SCREWED?"
I was so furious and yelly and because I KNEW I was furious and yelly I gave myself a time out. I flopped on my bed and my kids started playing nicely again and I just laid there. Dead to the world. DEPRESSED.
Eventually I got up and sent Molly to bed and decided to be a half decent mother and play puzzles with my boy, who is quite good at puzzles and everything was okay as long as I mentally turned his voice down and concentrated on matching the dress pieces to the Disney princess face pieces. Eventually Phillip's parents came over to visit and I left the chatty kid with them while I went to, wait for it, HOME DEPOT to buy, yes you're right, MORE SPRAY PAINT OMG I HAVE A PROBLEM.
(I decided to paint my espresso-colored West Elm desk white. Just go with this. And don't freak out like my FIL about the pregnant and spray painting thing because I bought myself a MASK and I do it on the deck and I take frequent breathers on the far side of the deck and really I think I am QUITE SAFE.) (But I do love how FIL didn't say anything DIRECTLY to me, but kept nudging MIL to lecture me instead. Which she did not. Ahem.)
I don't know. It just made me feel LESS depressed to have a PROJECT.
And everything was going fine and the kids were happy and FIL and MIL were occupied. But then it was time to meet Phillip at the restaurant and the kids went downstairs to put on their shoes while I headed to the bathroom to put on my third or fourth application of undereye concealer that day I hear my darling little boy say, "Ye Ye, you're STUPID!" Giggle giggle giggle.
I waited for Ye Ye to haul off and dropkick the child to the moon, but Ye Ye just mumbled something or other. Then I heard my sweet little boy say, "Nai Nai, YOU'RE stupid!" Giggle giggle giggle.
And Nai Nai, being Nai Nai, just said something like, "Oh Jack, that's not very nice, here, let me tie your shoe," and suddenly I realize I am standing there with my undereye concealer while I obviously need to go do the dropkicking myself.
So I threw my makeup in the drawer and stomped down the stairs and YANKED the precious boy away from his grandmother and half-dragged him into the guest bedroom and in my best imitation of my dad's you-are-dead-meat voice I told him that under NO circumstances was that an appropriate thing to say EVER and if I EVER heard him say that again I would find a nice Dickensian orphanage for him to live in and OMG I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT TO YOUR GRANDPARENTS!!!!
Jack, at least, was properly horrified, mortified, terrified, all the appropriate -fieds. And you know, I'm not even sure he knows what stupid MEANS. I've been trying to think of any time anyone has used that word around him and I'm realizing that I often use it in reference to, ah, other drivers. Like, I will make some Frustrated Noise and Jack will say, "What's wrong?" and I will say, "That other driver is being STUPID!" (Which is always true, obvs.)
So at the very least he knows it's not a NICE thing to say, which, honestly, is enough grounds for selling to gypsies. His GRANDPARENTS! I wanted to die. Die! Although I'm sure they thought I blew it out of proportion and when I brought him back they were all about wanting him to stop crying and I was still all "NO! STOP BEING NICE TO HIM!"
SIGH. After dinner I came home and put another coat of white paint on my desk while Phillip dealt with the Pee-er and the Stupid-er.
I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Phillip and I are leaving on Thursday (Thursday!) for a little two-night jaunt down to Portland. BY OURSELVES. We originally planned to go to San Francisco, but dear God have you seen plane ticket prices? Then we were going to drive to Vancouver BC but oops, someone's passport expired. Portland, quite frankly, did not sound all that exciting to me, but then we decided to take the train and suddenly I am all I WILL HAVE HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS TO READ AND NAP AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. Plus I have this foodie friend who sent me the biggest list of restaurants in the WORLD and the top one is a Thai restaurant and maybe you do not know this but I am Vegetarian Pad Thai With Deep Fried Tofu's biggest fan. We're pretty excited about it.
The BAD news is that the day after we get back, Phillip is going on a week-long business trip. SOB. Obvs I will need a REALLY big project for next week. I'm thinking about painting my bedroom, but don't tell FIL because when I told him I'd have to use the big ladder he nearly fainted.
(P.S. I KNOW FIL is right, I do I do, but I am 1) getting all NESTY and 2) in possession of a new house and I swear it's impossible not to visit Home Depot every single day. It's like my new Target. HELP ME!)