Sorry I have not blogged in a while. Sadly, I have a lot of blog worthy material but have been busy either writing for work or arguing with Bridget about my need to write for work.
But, since my sister Michelle is in pain and my sister Nicole is working on graduation plans, I have decided to try to give them a laugh today…here goes.
Bridget and I were eating lunch today and had the following conversation. Before you read it, I want you to have a clear picture of her in your head. She is wearing a bright pink hooded sweatshirt with multi-colored stars and jeans, no socks, and her favorite new PINK! Flip flops. Her hair is in 2 low braids and her long bangs are neatly (or were neatly) clipped back. Her chin and cheeks are covered in pizza sauce as this conversation ensues.
B: When you and Dad get tiny, you can take canned bacon and pepperoni off yous pizza. And when you and Dad and da boys get tiny, you can all get in my bed and sleep wis me.
Mom: When will we get tiny?
B: Maybe I get my wand all sparkeley and make you tiny (while giggling). And then I can turn Dad into a guel (girl) and da boys into guels.
Mom: Why do you want to turn Dad and the boys into girls?
B: Because then we match and we’s can all be Bridget!
You might be thinking that she is a super sweet little girl at this point but let me try to dissuade you of that crazy notion with the story of yestaday morning, which coincidentally is when everything happens in Bridget-land.
She refused to eat breakfast so I refused to let her watch a cartoon while I worked out, which is our normal routine. She cried in her bed for a while, then appeared downstairs to tell me she was eating her breakfast and wanted a cartoon when she was done. I agreed and sent her back upstairs to eat. Less than a minute later, I heard her crying pitifully and yelling, “Mom, come to the stairs, I need a tell you somesing!”
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw her standing at the top holding one leg at a weird angle while she cried. I hurried to the top asking her what was wrong. I didn’t need her to say, “I peed” once I stepped in the giant puddle of piss at the top of the stairs. She was wearing feetie jammies, to top it off, and was very squirmish about taking them off. I refused to help and let her struggle out of them because I am a very nice mom. I cut my workout short, we took a shower to get the awful pee smell off of both of us, and thought our day couldn’t get worse. Wrong.
I helped her look through all of her toys and suggested some nice things to play with and settled in at my desk to get some work done. Whiny McCrying Pants had a different agenda so I sorted through the toys with her again. Eventually, she settled on the Zhu Zhu Pet track which I set up for her. I put new batteries in her little pink rat, found Sam’s pet’s battle armor and left her to play…for about 45 seconds. This is what I heard “I’m never gonna play wis this again. Never never never,” in a loud screechy voice. It was great.
She continued her campaign of irritation by standing right next to me, leaning ever so slightly on my leg, whining and crying. For a long time. Almost an hour. I tried completely ignoring her, suggesting toys to play with, rubbing her back, and then ignoring her again. I resisted offering her food, which I knew would calm her down, because she hadn’t eaten breakfast and I wanted to stand firm on my eating policy. I also refused to let her go to her bed with her lovey cow because she has been using that as an avoidance technique and I don’t want her to simply lie in her bed all morning because she refuses to play with a toy.
Our standoff finally ended (and I won!) when she got her own little laptop, placed it close to mine, and started to work as well. We then had a lovely discussion about what each letter of the alphabet says and what words start with those letters. I’m hoping that someday she will learn that I am happy to play and visit with her when she isn’t whining! Until that day comes, I may invest in some ear plugs.