June 17, 2008

Sorry I'm not home right now, I'm walking through the spiderwebs...

Trying to figure out the way a three-year-old's mind works is like trying to solve Rubik's Cube without the instructions (which, by the way, is how my husband mastered the geeky art). I've thrown my hands up in defeat, brought to my knees at some of her nonsensical antics...yet I feel like slamming my head in a drawer multiple times daily.

She's recently figured out how to ask what we're doing, where we're going, what that is, etc. I really wish she'd figured this out a year or so ago when her little mind wasn't so demanding. Now, when she asks, "What's that?" what she really means is: "What are all the items in the picture/on the TV/outside the window, what are their names, how many are they, what kinds of clothes are they wearing, what are they doing, and how long will it take them?"

Each. And. Every. Time.

It's enough to drive a woman to pick up a pack of Marlboro Lights at the 7-11.

[For the record, I quit smoking on March 3, 2004; haven't lit up since]

And then there are the countless meltdowns over excruciatingly simple things: tuna fish instead of peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, we don't have On Demand yet and Dora isn't on right now so the world's coming to an end, she can't have a snack because she didn't eat her dinner, I need to re-ponytail her hair and she's in a mad dash to get to the other end of the house to pick up a stuffed animal, we were on our way out the door but mama forgot something so we have to turn back for a second...the list goes on and on. And I do mean meltdowns.

Exhibit A:

Then there's the Miss Priss attitude she's recently developed. Everything is HERS. When she goes to the bathroom, we are to STAY. [Meaning: She does NOT want our help. She'll do it herself.] That is, until she's done and wants help guidance putting her underwear and pants back on. Getting silverware, brushing her teeth, picking out clothes: "I do it."

Exhibit B:

Now multiply that times two and you'll have approximately NINE HOURS of my day, every day, Monday through Friday. And you wonder why, after four years of being smoke-free, I'd consider picking up a pack???


The Mom said...

I am so understanding this post...I never was a smoker, but might consider it after the summer is over. Exhibit B sounds like my Exhibit #3!!

template by suckmylolly.com : background by Tayler : dingbat font TackODing