Seriously?
I am still bitching about Fridays?
I should have blogged last Friday when I was in a good mood. (for once)
We are attempting to do our taxes this weekend.
Won't that be a good time.
Little thumb sucker pushed me to the I-will-make-good-on-my-idle-threats moment yesterday.
She has been trying, just a little, to stop the thumb sucking. ONLY because she wants to go to Chuck-E-Cheese with her cousins next month. We have told her that we would take her there as soon as she stopped sucking her thumb. We didn't necessarily tell her that she wouldn't be able to go with her cousins, but she is assuming that is the trick, so we must play along....
But, she has started this hair twirling and sucking bit. I really don't want her to trade one bad habit for another substantially gross habit, so the husband and I have been telling her that if her hair keeps going in her mouth, then we would have to chop it off.
(No! No! I will stop sucking my hair! I want big hair) (yeah yeah)
She has twirled effing dreadlocks into her hair. Top that with some sucking and she has these strands of squirrel hair that are stuck in wacky-dried positions. Gross.
I know. I know. Some people could care LESS if their kid does gross things.
I AM NOT ONE OF THESE LAID BACK INDIVIDUALS.
I tend to be a little high-strung
So, after B ran away from the house as she was walking home after the school pickup last night, I went to go herd her home about ten minutes later....and when I find her she is bawling....just turned on the water-works because she knew she was supposed to be at home. Not running amuck through the neighborhood in the 30 degree weather without a coat on. (What kind of mother am I?) She also has hair in her mouth. Blubbering, telling me something unintelligible because there is HAIR IN HER MOUTH.
So, instead of going home after dropping S off at dance, we went to the hair cutting place and got her hair chopped off.
It's adorable. Absolutely adorable. It makes her look like my baby and a big girl all at the same time. Don't ask me how that works, it just does.
The lady cutting her hair asks her at the end.
Do you like your haircut?
No.
Do you like getting your haircut?
No.
Somber as a statue.
I got my caterpillers waxed while she started on B and the ladies sitting around her cooed about how sweet and quiet she was.
Oh. If those people could take a 30 minute trip to Ikea with this kid and a pencil, they would see the devil-child in action.
The long blonde curls on the floor were a little sad and I had to hold myself back THREE times from bending over and snatching up a handful. Like, where would I put them? In her "I was bad and got my hair chopped off book"?
I guess I shouldn't say bad, it's more like strong-willed to the point of making a mother scream.
Love the kid. Love her. Can't wait for a little cooperation. Can't wait for her to tell me the truth when she is eating treats and not "Crackers, mom. I'm eating crackers."
Friday, March 6, 2009
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