Nothing like a late morning shit-fit to start a Saturday off right.
Natalie is 2 and a half and brings a new kind of terrible to the twos. She wants to do EVERYTHING by herself, even if it's not actually possible for her to do it by herself. Most of all, she hates being rushed.
Which brings me to this morning...
We were late to Lucy's dance class yet again, so of course we were rushing, or rather I was rushing. They were doing everything but rushing. Lucy was climbing the tree out front in her ballet costume, Natalie was running in circles around the van, then insisting that she was going to ride in the back seat.
Finally, I coerced her into her seat with promises of a new doll at Target. We were off! Once we entered the parking lot, all hell broke loose. She actually collapsed on the concrete behind the van and refused to move, due to some imagined slight. I resorted to grabbing her and carrying her into the dance studio, where she resumed her fit, in front of all the waiting mommies, whose daughters were, of course, already in class. There was shrieking and crying, all done in the most excruciating tone and volume, the likes of which I've never heard.
Lucy and I went on with business as usual, ignoring this scene, getting her ballet shoes on. Lucy, worried about her sister, said (at high volume of course), "Mommy, someone might steal Natalie from the front while we're in here".
All the other mommies were listening intently to hear my reply to her innocent concern.
"Oh, honey, I don't think any one's going to want her today," I said with a laugh. The other mommies laughed, too. What else can you do in the face of pure evil?
Natalie is 2 and a half and brings a new kind of terrible to the twos. She wants to do EVERYTHING by herself, even if it's not actually possible for her to do it by herself. Most of all, she hates being rushed.
Which brings me to this morning...
We were late to Lucy's dance class yet again, so of course we were rushing, or rather I was rushing. They were doing everything but rushing. Lucy was climbing the tree out front in her ballet costume, Natalie was running in circles around the van, then insisting that she was going to ride in the back seat.
Finally, I coerced her into her seat with promises of a new doll at Target. We were off! Once we entered the parking lot, all hell broke loose. She actually collapsed on the concrete behind the van and refused to move, due to some imagined slight. I resorted to grabbing her and carrying her into the dance studio, where she resumed her fit, in front of all the waiting mommies, whose daughters were, of course, already in class. There was shrieking and crying, all done in the most excruciating tone and volume, the likes of which I've never heard.
All the other mommies were listening intently to hear my reply to her innocent concern.
"Oh, honey, I don't think any one's going to want her today," I said with a laugh. The other mommies laughed, too. What else can you do in the face of pure evil?
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