I need to calm down. If I could spit fire, I would be right now.
Emily
The girl drives me insane. It began this morning with getting dressed. I did all the laundry yesterday so the only pair of shorts dirty were the jean ones she wore yesterday. Ally wanted to wear her own pair today. I entered their bedroom trying to understand Emily's wailing, "I wanna wear those shorts" (Ally's jean shorts) "because I need to but I don't want to! WAAAA!" Huh? To diffuse the situation, I told Emily to go eat breakfast because technically I want them to eat before they dress. "I wanna get dressed first! WAAAA!"
Fine. I pulled out a nice white t-shirt with butterflies and her dark green khaki shorts. "Those don't go together! They don't match! WAAAA!" (We have this fight a lot, she think nothing ever "matches".) After a few minutes of trying to discuss how white goes with everything, ("It doesn't match! WAAA!") I told her if she was going to act like a baby, she was going to get dressed like a baby and I put the shirt and shorts on her and sent her downstairs to eat breakfast.
She didn't like any of the cereal. She didn't want to pour milk on her cereal but she didn't like all the crunching of dry cereal. She didn't bring home her lunch money change from yesterday which made it trickier to dole out today's lunch money. WAAA!
I went off to find lunch money and help Zach put together a few supplies for school. When I came back she was standing in the middle of the kitchen wailing that she couldn't buckle the strap of her overall jumper. What happened to the white shirt and khakis? "We only have white shirts" (as I glance over at a pile of at least 10 colored shirts folded on the coffee table) "and where are all the colored shirts and white doesn't match! WAAA!" Are you confused? I was confused.
To save the last scraps of sanity I had, I walked away to help Ally tie her shoes and make sure she had everything for school. Emily was still wailing in the kitchen that she hadn't eaten breakfast and she can't buckle the strap and they were suppose to be out at the bus stop. WAAA!
Finally I had had it (Not Proud Mommy Moment coming up). I buckled the strap of her jumper, shoved her out the front door, tossed out her shoes, socks, and backpack and shut the door. I couldn't take the crying and whining anymore. You can't reason with the girl. She drives me freaking insane.
I need to start lobbying for school uniforms. Or start putting vodka in my morning tea.
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