The Scorned Woman

Tuesday was literally my day from hell. It started first thing in the morning and rode me hard until I locked the kids in their room at bedtime.

I mean... until I gently closed their door at bedtime.

I'm just posting the highlights. It will span a couple of posts. No need to rehash everything. It'll just give me hives to relive it.

The theme is: Malia.

Get used to reading about her. There will be many posts about her. She's coming into her own and she's hell on wheels. The first thing I want to say is I can't wait for springtime. Our first morning battle always center around her wardrobe. She can pick something to wear but it must be appropriate for the weather. Meaning: rain = long sleeves and pants. Not a tank top and skirt. Not a tee shirt and shorts. You can wear a tee with another long sleeve shirt over or under AND pants. And definitely NO PRINCESS GOWN TO SCHOOL!

After wrestling her to the ground, pinning her down and forcing her arms and legs into appropriate clothing, we move onto the next battle: breakfast. She gets choices: cereal (and there are choices within this), waffles or pancakes.

What does she ask for? Eggs.
Me: I didn't offer eggs. I offered cereal, waffles or pancakes.
Malia: Scrambled eggs with bacon.
Me: Cereal. Waffles. Or. Pancakes.
Malia: Easy up eggs and bacon and buttered toast, Momma.
Me: OK. Bowl of cereal it is!

She sees the bowl of cereal and of course starts picking at it. 30 minutes later, it's still there. I go upstairs to take care of Taede and get myself ready. When I come back down, ready to load up the kids in the car, the bowl of cereal is empty. Not because she ate it. No. It's empty because she took out the soggy cereal and hand painted the table with it.

Cereal chunks and milk were smeared on the table, her chair, the ground, and of course on the weather appropriate, long sleeved outfit she's wearing.

She was punished. No need to get into what sort of punishment was doled out. Just know that she was mad at me for the entire car ride to the school. And I leave her there, mad.

Fast forward 3 hours later. I pick her up, hoping that she had a better day, but knowing that she probably held onto her mad like a mother holding onto her baby. And I was right. Mrs. Lerma said that she was mad all day but still had a good day. Malia sees me and runs over. She tells me that she's not having a good day, that she's sad. I ask her why. She tells me she's sad because Aman (her favorite boy) didn't want to play with her. He didn't want to play with me, Momma! And the look on her face: eyes wide open, brows pinched up, downturned lips. Indeed, it was very sad. Her first heartbreak. Aman saw her leaving so he came over and said good bye.

And what did she do? She tipped her head up and looked at him down her nose. I don't know how she managed it since Aman's taller than her, but she did. He said bye again and she turned her head, refusing to acknowledge him and gave him her patented F--off cold shoulder, while doing the nose up in the air move.

He said good bye for the 3rd time, and this time he added a hand wave. Just in case she didn't see him since her head was turned to the side. And Malia simply tossed her head to the other side, nose up in the air, still ignoring him.

It's scary that at 2.5 years old, she's got all the moves down. I feel sorry for all future boyfriends. She's going to totally work them over.