M is for Misinterpreting Manipulation
So, last week the Lady was complaining about her stomach hurting before she went to school. To say that she has a laundry list of complaints and stalling techniques that she uses to try and manipulate her father and I into driving her to school would be an understatement.
We put her on the bus. Two hours later I got the call. "The Lady vomited." That is all the nurse said. I sent her father to pick her up and headed home after my appointment.
The Lady 1
Mom 0
M is for a Manic Monday
We took the kids out to my sisters for the Super Bowl. Instead of trying to put them down there and just waking them up for the ride home, we just let them do whatever they wanted. The Little Lady fell asleep on the couch around 10. Her sister and brother didn't even close their eyes in the car ride home at 11.
Monday morning wasn't so good. The Little Lady decided that she didn't want to go to school. In order to drive home her point she stomped up the stairs screaming "I don't want to go to school" at the top of her lungs, wearing only a pair of purple jeggings before slamming the bathroom door and locking herself in.
She didn't make it to school. I got a pretty good preview of her at age 16.
The Little Lady 1
Mom 0
M is for Missized
I have been meaning to get QT some new sneakers for a while now. I don't remember when I bought the one pair that he has been wearing, but it seemed to me that perhaps his feet might have grown in the last few months. I have been talking about bringing him to the shoe store for a while. But you know what? Things get in the way and I forget and we make other plans and the amount of time that he and I spend alone together is so small it is super sad.
Yesterday, I had some time before my appointment to get out and run some errands. I had the sitter meet me at the mall. I texted her to be there at 9:45. At 9:40, when I rolled in, I realized that the mall doesn't open until 10. We spent a good 15-20 minutes running around Barnes and Noble and then stood outside the gate to Stride Rite until the lady opened it for us.
QT has been wearing size 5.5 sneakers. One of his feet measured a 6.5 the other was closer to 7. Can you say bad parenting? The poor kid. My husband and I had been wondering why he was running on an angle. Probably because one of his feet was so wedged inside his shoe he didn't have proper balance. Oh QT, Mama is sorry!
Anyway, if you think that kid didn't leave there with a pair of well-fitting light up car shoes that he loved and that I spent double what I should have, you would be wrong. That kid made his way around that store like his sisters on a Sporty Shorty adventure, and ran out of the place twice.
I was just happy he had the correct size shoe and we had a couple of minutes together.
QT 1
Mom 0
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