Crabby Pants

Leila is so crabby today. Granted, I did not feed the child breakfast until, like, 10:30, because I was watching Four Weddings and a Funeral on TV. Then we went to the farmers market and waited in line for an ETERNITY for a Belgian waffle. She ate kettle corn while we were waiting, so, basically, that's what she had for breakfast. Mother of the Year? Right here, baby!

But this is what I've had to endure all morning: "I am NOT changing my shirt!" When it was pointed out to her that her shirt was on backwards: "I WANT it this way!" "I am NOT going to the farmers market, I want to have a PLAYDATE!" "My FEET itch! I want to go HOME!" "I'm sooooo HUNGRY!"

I had to hold her hand the whole time she was spewing her vitriol, and, I'm telling you, I wanted to drop her hand and lose her in the crowd, but not before I yelled, "I AM SICK OF YOUR BULLSHIT!" into her pretty little face. She was much nicer after she ate. Huh, waddya know?

She's been having a rough time lately. Second grade is a bitch. Every morning, I have to listen to her dramatic recitation of the age old platitude, "I am not going to school today." She hasn't bothered to make up excuses yet, she just informs me that, today, she's not going. Then I say she has to go or the police will come and throw her in jail, and she says, "I don't care. I'll go to jail, because I am NOT going to school." I try to be a nice mom and cajole her out of bed with tickling and music and jokes, and then, after fifteen minutes of threatening to have her arrested, my blood starts to boil and I say, calmly, "I am about to get really mad." That seems to do the trick, but it doesn't actually work unless I really am about to get really mad, which sucks for me because I hate to feel that way in the morning.

Next, if memory serves, she will not feel well every morning, and I will be mean because "YOU DON'T KNOW MY FEELINGS!"

After school, however, I have the hardest time getting her out of the classroom because she doesn't want to leave. On Friday, she was making a yellow star for Ms. Hancock to wear on her sweater that said, "you're my hero." Could she make up her mind?

Right now, fortified by a Belgain waffle and kettle corn, she is running through the house with a beach towel secured around her neck with a binder clip. She's super girl. Super crabby, moody, unpredictable, drive-me-to-an-early-grave girl. She keeps telling us to let us know if Super Girl can help us with anything, and when Rob asked if Super Girl could put her socks away, he was informed that that was beneath super girl. She added, "You could pretend that something is ATTACKING you, or something! Its a GAME, y'know!"