Bossman 2 caught me listening to Christmas music today. He probably thinks I've gone off the deep end. But, is it really too early to start listening to Christmas music? Probably, but I refuse to bend to society's silly rules.
Today is picture day at school. Luke and Evie picked out new outfits at Target last night. I love that place. Evie has grown quite particular in what she will and will not wear. I finally convinced her to wear this really adorable pink dress with brown polka-dots. Now, trying to explain what polka-dots are was quite a feat. I thought it would be easy to explain, but Luke kept asking, "Yeah, I know what a dot is, but what is a polka." He has a good point. Anyone know why it is called a polka-dot and not just a dot?
So this morning I wake up my bright, shiney, cranky kids and start getting them ready for school with their special outfits. As I'm dressing them, I ask if either one needs to go potty. I get an emphatic "no" from both parties. I continue to dress them and then send them to the bathroom to brush their teeth. They both share a little stool to reach the sink. I put a dab of toothpaste on her Hello Kitty toothbrush his Power Rangers toothbrush. They proceed suck all the toothpaste off their brushes and then reload their brushes with water that they suck down as well over and over again. They are doing all this while I make their beds and tidy up in their room (remember - perfect house in case of a showing). Then I hear the faint (and then not so faint) crying of Evie. I rush around the corner where I see her grabbing her dress and pathetically and desperately crying as pee trickles and then begins to stream down her legs. No wonder - the sink water probably would have done it for me too if I hadn't peed first thing in the morning (remember, I freakin' pee four times in the middle of the night these days).
I feel so bad for her and repeat over and over, "It's okay, it's okay." I quickly rush over and strip off her new dress as she continues to pee. Is it bad that I go to save the dress instead of getting her on the potty? Then I let her continue to pee and I stick a towel under her so that it isn't just leaking onto the wood floors. She is still totally freaking out about the accident and is sobbing as I continue to tell her it will be alright. She finally stops peeing. I wipe up the puddle, take off her panties and send her to my bathroom for a quick bath. (So much for getting into work early.)
I give her a bath. Luke decides he needs to help because, in his words, "It'll be a lot of work to get her clean." Whatever. I wash her hair (why not, since we're already in there), rub her down with some bath wash, rinse it off, get her out, dry her up despite her complaints, put on the only slightly damp dress and a fresh pair of panties and proceed to dress her hair in a sweet bow. She, of course, complains the whole time.
What amazes me about these events is the fact that she pees all over and is horrified by it, but I'm completely calm and collected. We go to take a bath and she is no longer crying or upset by the fact that she is dirty. Like my dog, her attention span is quite narrow, and now she is totally ticked off at me for making her wash her hair and have a bath. I think I'm frustrated that I was able to keep my patience about the peeing thing, but I couldn't keep my patience with her unreasonable whining about the bath. She loudly whined that I was drying her wrong, or I wasn't washing her hair right, then I used the wrong hair dryer. I couldn't maintain my calm when she was totally pissing me off with her normal child whining. I admit it - she's a kid and kids whine - about everything. But what is wrong with me that I let the everyday whining get to me? More hormones?
My frustration gathered and finally exploded when both Luke and Evie suffered a new bout of temporary deafness. I ended with a "LUKE! GO GET YOUR SOCKS ON! EVIE! LEAVE THE CAT ALONE!" Luke, not bothered by the raised voice, and still ignoring my commands, responded with, "Why are you angry, Mommy?" This would be sweet normally. I'm glad he doesn't break down into tears at my raised voice, but this morning I just couldn't take it and I said with eyes wide, "I'm angry because you won't go put your socks on even though I've asked you sixteen times already!" He is still unbothered and continues to play.
The only thing that seems to really get their attention (although I know this is a temporary solution until they call my bluff) is "Okay, fine, I'm ready so I'm leaving without you." The truly believe I'll leave them behind. They're sufficiently smart to grasp the fact that I'm not actually going to leave them, but apparently they haven't figured it out yet.
So after all that, these pictures better be great.