Here it Comes...

I keep my expectations very low most of the time. That said. Last week Princess began talking about making a gift for Mother's Day at school and I started my deep breathing and vitamin supplements routine. Tuesday the gift came home. She proudly handed it to me and asked me to put it up high in a safe place. Wednesday the poo hit the turbine. At homework time of course.

She couldn't read the word "blew." It was literally the second word in the reader- the reader focusing on the "oo" sound. I pulled her into my lap and read the entire reader to her. That was a new trick, and no siree, she did not like it. It foiled the plan. My foiling the plan does not necessarily, however, foil the tantrum. She switched to plan B: "you won't let me read to you WAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

In the middle of the throwing and ripping and crumpling and screaming Buddy had to go to piano lesson. So we loaded into to Suburban. Yep. Trust me, every time this happens I get sooooo tempted to not go. At least, until I remember what having to power to pre-empt another child's activity would do to Princess's behavior. Plus, I hoped the change of scenery would break the fit. Not so. She picked right up again where she left off. When the hard objects started to fly through the air I said, "Princess, I gotta warn you: the next thing that you throw is going to be secret code for 'I can't do dance today, Mommy; it is just too much for me right now." Princess's response was to scream, "NO!!! I CAN GO IF I WANT TO!!!!" and whip me in the face with her leotard.

So. Long story short, we did not attend the last Watch Day and fourth-to-last practice before the recital. Princess enjoyed a solitary peanut butter sandwich and bananna (deemed "disgusting." I said to Josh, "geez! You'd think I gave her hot dogs or chicken nuggets or pizza or something!), and some needed extra quiet time in bed. It was 6:00. I told her that, unfortunately, there were some things other than her going on (ok, a little sarcastic. Sorry. Sorry.), and I would check back in with her in a hour.

("An HOUR? WAAAAAAAAAH!")

Josh and I scrambled around getting the stuff done that needed to be done that wasn't getting done because my face had been having leotards whipped at it for the previous hour. I went back upstairs at 7:00. Princess's eyes were closed and all nine hundred things that are usually on her bed were on the floor. I covered her up and her eyes opened. I got in bed.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl who had two moms. The first mom made the little girl in her belly and carried her around in there and had her born and took care of her for a little while. The first mom did the best she could, but it wasn't good enough for a little girl. The little girl got left with other people a lot. The little girl got left alone a lot. Little girls have to have more taking care of than that. One day when she and her sister and cousins were alone without a grown up, a police officer came and took them to Miss S and told her the girl and her sister needed a Forever Mommy. Miss S asked Mommy if she's be the girl's Forever Mommy, and Mommy said, 'yes please!'

"So now the girl has a Forever Mommy who never leaves her alone, but the girl still thinks about her first mom a lot, even though she never talks about her. Mother's Day is hard, because the girl has two moms, but she only has a gift for one of them. She might like to give the first mom a gift, but she doesn't know where the first mom is. Sometimes she doesn't know if she wants to anyway, because she is sad and angry and confused, and then she feels bad about that, too. But her Forever Mommy knows she feels that way, even if the girl doesn't talk about it. And the Forever Mommy loves her more than anything, even when the girl acts mean. The Forever Mommy knows.

The end."