Back to the shoes. She ended up wearing them, after some negotiating that resulted in no socks. Somewhat appeased, she returned to the great outdoors. But Jacob was riding his toy that she wanted. Another meltdown. More negotiating. She relocated to the sandbox and proceeded to toss bowls of sand onto the lawn. I asked (or commanded) her to stop. A meltdown or perhaps a tantrum, depending on whether you focussed on the crying or the stomping of feet. I brought her back inside. Clearly, the neighbours had seen enough. And they were trying to enjoy their own few minutes of peace on this lovely fall afternoon. That, and I really had to get dinner started. I can't even remember what caused the next series of meltdowns. All I know is that Hannah spent the next while in her room deciding whether or not she could behave in a way that would allow her to rejoin us on the main floor. Eventually she came down, but stayed in her time-out spot on the stairs. And then, at long last, she asked in a very quiet voice if I would lift her over the gate. We discussed her behaviour (meaning I highlighted its unattractiveness using language far too sophisticated for her, but she agreed to everything I said), she apologized and we began anew.
Until she asked for some juice. Right now! And we hadn't even had supper yet... oh, the hours before bed can seem soooooo long.
However, as Gretchen Rubin says, and as I often find myself repeating, "The days are long, but the years are short."
A Calloused Foot
13 years ago
Posts
I can just picture it! Isn't it awful how our reality falls short of our imagined idyllic after school reunions with our children?! I think about how excited I am to see my kids at the end of the day, and how excited they are when I pick them up, and yet as soon as we get home they fall apart. Hunger, exhaustion, or getting even for being away from them all day? Not quite sure.
ReplyDeleteAlso, when I read your quote from Gretchen I wonder why I didn't like her book more?!