There are no words for yesterday. Or even the last few days in general.
I can't bear to go into detail, so I will be forced to paint large strokes for you and you will need to use your imaginations. Ok,
medium strokes. Large strokes aren't that much fun. You need a
little detail.
Adjoa was mad because I told her 4 pancakes was too many and she would be sick {
I need to post about the food issues we have been experiencing as well}. I caved a little, and cut one in half so she ate 3 1/2 pancakes. I had two. Robert ate three. Really, she should have been full. But she was mad. She ate the half pancake and wanted more. I explained again that she would be sick if she ate more. She started licking her plate.
I asked her to stop and explained that it's bad manners and "gross" to lick your plate like that. I took the plate away and set it down. She glared at me. Pick up the plate. And started licking again.
Adjoa, I asked you not to do that.
I took the plate away again and set it down. She glared. She picked it up. She licked it.
Adjoa! I said no.So I took the plate away and put it in the dishwasher. I turn around and she is glaring at me, licking her knife and fork. I take them away and put them in the dishwasher. I turn around and she is glaring at me, licking her cup.
Robert is aghast. This is pretty much the first time he witnessed her deliberately disobeying me.
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It was time to take out
Adjoa's hair and re-do it. The day before, I really talked it up. Told her we could watch princess movies and she would get beads and braids and all that jazz. She was excited.
I put her in the tub {
much easier to take out the old 'do when the hair is wet}. She starts with being silly. Then it morphs into obnoxious. And suddenly, I have this child who refuses to cooperate with me. I warn her that she won't get to play in her bubble bath while I take out her hair if she keeps it up. She keeps it up.
I drain the tub. She stops the drain.
I ask her to get out of the tub. She lays down.
I had my fill. I pick her up, sopping wet, and carry her to her room. I was holding her away from me because I didn't want to get wet. She started fighting me. She was so slippery. I dropped her. I felt terrible. She was mad at me. She began again with her fit-throwing.
I left the room and told her I would come back when she was ready for me to do her hair. I few minutes later I hear her in the bathroom. I walk in and she has this totally guilty look on her face. I figure it's because I caught her out of her room. I pick her up and carry her back to her room and begin taking her hair out.
She had cut off two of her little ponies clear down to the elastic!!!I was horrified! 9 months of growing her hair out wasted! The hair is like 1/4 inch long! The section is 1 inch wide, and 2 inches long. I wanted to cry. I was beyond words. She had school pictures the next day.
I think we are going to have to basically shave her head. 9 months! No more cute beads. No more braids. We are back to headbands. I am distraught.
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More fits, crying, fighting me while I try to do her hair. She refuses to talk to me. She just suddenly starts crying and stomping around. 20 minutes of tantrums.
I called Robert and asked him to come home early from work.
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I Love My Child. I Love My Child. I Love My Child.
When are those scholastic books going to get here????