My Mantra Yesterday: I Love My Child, I Love My Child, I Love My Child

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????