Time: just before 5:00 pm
After a busy day, I’ve jumped on the laptop to hit my favorite site (allrecipes) to figure out what to do with leftover chicken.
Belly enters the room and begins w-h-i-n-i-n-g about dinner. “I’m huuuuunnnnnnggggggrrrrryyyy!”, she wails. “I want a snaaaaaaaaaaaack! You are so meeeeeeaaaannnnnnnn!”
I put her off nicely for a minute, and then lose my cool, shouting, “I AM TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT TO MAKE FOR DINNER SO GO AWAY AND LET ME DO THIS!!!!!!!!”
Her face crumbles, and she runs for her bedroom where I can hear her crying upstairs.
My heart feels that little ‘pang’ as my anger dissipates. I walk up to her room and tell her I’m sorry for yelling, but that she should also apologize for being such a pest.
“Get out of my room!” is her only reply. Sure ‘nuff! No problem there.
A few minutes later, a sheepish Belly comes into the laundry room, where I am folding clothes. I tell her again that I feel badly for yelling, but I also expect her to speak to me with a little more respect.
Quickly changing the subject, she tells me a story about something that happened earlier in the day, something that was sort of funny and silly. I recognize that she is trying to build a bridge back to me, so I laugh with her. I feel better.
She turns and walks out of the room, pausing to say, over her shoulder, “I’m still not ready to say sorry”.
Sorry Seems to be The Hardest Word
Follow"I Miss Them Already!"
Lately, my days have involved waking up at 6:30am and sticking my cat with a needle to administer fluids under his skin. Hold on to him as he squirms and growls. Curse when he leaps off, causing needle to squirt fluid all over room. Repeat this sequence about 10 times until we are both exhausted.
Follow this excitement by then giving him three pills and an insulin shot.
Inevitably find a pill on the rug and have to find the cat again to get the pill back down his throat.
And don’t forget the older cat with thyroid disease! She needs her medicine too.
Ahhhhh. . . fun times. But, it is worth it.
In other news, we said a sad goodbye to friends who spent the night on their way to a family event (the title of this post? It is what Belly mournfully exclaimed as their car disappeared down the street).
The interesting thing about this particular friend is that I know that she can turn just about anything into a hilarious or poignant story. Last year, there was this post about a Cozy Coupe carjacking. This year, I was too entranced by her daughters to notice if anything was askew, or if my children were acting particularly strange.
Oh my God, her daughters. I think my house would fall down around me as I sat on the couch holding the happiest baby, while the sweetest little two-year-old asked questions like, “can we go to the playground?” (meaning, our backyard). Her delight in things we take for granted (grass, a driveway, the swing set) was contagious.
There was no repeat carjacking, as far as I could tell. Jilly didn’t shake her booty; D didn’t spit, bite or call someone “stupid!”; Belly was her sweet, “big sister” self. Other than some mad Guitar Hero II playing, we were a pretty normal family.
But, then I saw Liz taking photos of the many naked Barbies lining our bathtub and wondered what she might be thinking. . .
Yes, we miss them already. Just wait until we show up on their doorstep, bags in hand, ready for a good time.
“I Miss Them Already!”
Lately, my days have involved waking up at 6:30am and sticking my cat with a needle to administer fluids under his skin. Hold on to him as he squirms and growls. Curse when he leaps off, causing needle to squirt fluid all over room. Repeat this sequence about 10 times until we are both exhausted.
Follow this excitement by then giving him three pills and an insulin shot.
Inevitably find a pill on the rug and have to find the cat again to get the pill back down his throat.
And don’t forget the older cat with thyroid disease! She needs her medicine too.
Ahhhhh. . . fun times. But, it is worth it.
In other news, we said a sad goodbye to friends who spent the night on their way to a family event (the title of this post? It is what Belly mournfully exclaimed as their car disappeared down the street).
The interesting thing about this particular friend is that I know that she can turn just about anything into a hilarious or poignant story. Last year, there was this post about a Cozy Coupe carjacking. This year, I was too entranced by her daughters to notice if anything was askew, or if my children were acting particularly strange.
Oh my God, her daughters. I think my house would fall down around me as I sat on the couch holding the happiest baby, while the sweetest little two-year-old asked questions like, “can we go to the playground?” (meaning, our backyard). Her delight in things we take for granted (grass, a driveway, the swing set) was contagious.
There was no repeat carjacking, as far as I could tell. Jilly didn’t shake her booty; D didn’t spit, bite or call someone “stupid!”; Belly was her sweet, “big sister” self. Other than some mad Guitar Hero II playing, we were a pretty normal family.
But, then I saw Liz taking photos of the many naked Barbies lining our bathtub and wondered what she might be thinking. . .
Yes, we miss them already. Just wait until we show up on their doorstep, bags in hand, ready for a good time.
