I love herJuly 25, 2007
I really do.
With all my heart.
But why is everything so difficult?
Why does she fight every move I make? Always up for a challenge.
Is it 3+ year old, only-child syndrome? Too bad, because at the rate she’s going she will be an only child forever.
She has to counter every statement I make?
What do you want for lunch?
I don’t want lunch, I want snack.
Lets go to the mall to buy panties.
No, not now.
You need to go up and nap, it’s been weeks.
No, I’m not tired to nap….(as she’s rubbing her eyes and yawning)
Don’t bust the dog’s chops.
Mamma, RT is biting me!
Don’t touch/do/eat/wet/spill/push/tug/yank/say that.
I’m ready to scream. Actually I did scream.
Did you hear us yelling at each other in the parking lot at Target today?
She wouldn’t get in the car.
She wanted to walk around the mall in her stroller.
So I went to the car to get it and she said she had to pee…So we went back into Target and she didn’t want to sit on the pot. So we went back out to the car to get her stroller so we could trek to the toddler bathroom across the other side of the mall and she made me practically drag her to the car. She didn’t want to walk the way I was walking to the car. So we finally get the stroller and she wants a pretzel. So I buy one but I forgot her water at home. She didn’t want store water, she wanted her water in her purple cup with flowers. So I bought water anyway for myself. She was mad. So we finally get to the ‘family room’ in the mall and she won’t go in. So I go back to other side of the mall again to the car to go home because if she isn’t gonna pee in the mall, we have to leave…the sooner the better to avoid an accident…
She stiffened up and wouldn’t get in the seat. I practically threw her in it. She wouldn’t let me buckle it.
She’s yelling she’s gonna pee…I’m yelling I don’t give a fuck!
We gathered our shit and calmed down just enough to try one more time in the potty at Target because she says she’ll do it and she fucking refuses again.
At this point, my head is spinning and I’m spitting green shit outta my mouth. Plus, I’m cursing like a drunken pirate hooker.
We get back to the car and I strap her ass in the seat the best I can….
…I want my burpie….
Where the fuck did the fucking pink lovey go?
I search the entire car and all the bags in it from front to rear axle.
Gone forever…Probably somewhere in the noisy Target cart I had. Being used by that strange old man with more hair on his back than on his head.
I’m speeding home in a fury and she fucking has the balls to ask me…”Mommy, why am I crying?
On a side note. If you are here you are probably using Firefox…Apparently anyone using Internet Explorer is having issues viewing Blogger Blogs…Blogger help group shows others with the same issues. Any suggestions? I should have switched hosts shouldn’t I? Oh Well.