Plus, I pretty much had a knock-down, drag-out fight with every single one of my children today. Mostly because they're sick and extra for ornery, and that was okay until lunch time. But when said short people refused nappage, it got ugly.
I, in my meanness, decided to purge Blayne's stuff. Yes, the precious stuff was completely out of hand today. She had dumped out the dirty laundry, taken the basket, then filled it up with her things, PLUS a backpack, PLUS her suitcase, PLUS she was holding a purse in her mouth. No Joke.
So, I decided a purge was in order. She cried for three hours because I took the following:
a straw
a Go-gurt wrapper
a dirty burp cloth
Danny's silky
Tad's silky
Taylor's silky
a comb
a tuft of hair from DadGuy's haircut this morning (no, I'm not kidding)
my shoes
a sock
a rotten apple
some more garbage
plus other icky stuff that she tends to collect.
So, Blayne's not talking to me right now because, as she told me, "Mom, you're so rude to me." Then she burst into little two-year old tears and threw herself on the floor amongst the remaining "stuff" and cried heartily. . . for three hours.
Meanwhile, it's a holiday weekend and since we've been poxed, pretty much nothing fun is happening. Unless I want to be THAT mom, the one that lets her kids play at McDonald's for three hours while she reads a book, (and if anyone asks, they were playing with ants...) hmmmm... Not that I've thought about that at ALL today... Nope, not even a little bit... sigh. It's hard to be responsible.
