The Kidling has had a rough few days. The tiniest things set off whining, fits, complaining, and the throwing-about of a certain someone’s tiny body. She is self-propelled, I promise.
As you might guess, The Mama has been in similarly less-than-stellar form. Parents, you know the story (Non-parents, shove it. Go pee in peace or do some other smug, non-parent thing).
By way of illustration, we have the events of Monday evening. Alice never watches television in the afternoon. I don’t know why, but we simply don’t. But Alice has had The Mama so tuckered this week that I actually suggested turning the television on. That never happens. Ever.
As all good(ish) parents do, I gave Alice the “last call” warning when Curious George came on PBS (Non-parents, this is an insurance policy against temper tantrums. It doesn’t really work, but we all do it). Curious George is a two-shows-in-one show, so I told Alice she could watch the first one, but then it would be dinner time.
When the time came, I told Alice to turn the television off. This, as you might expect, did not go over well. At all. The Kidling threw an outsized fit, yelling and screaming and writhing about. I let her blow off steam for a few minutes before trying to talk with her. Just as she started to settle down and move from fit mode into pout mode, I made my move. Swooping in to perform the firm-but-kind routine, I began by gently wiping away Alice’s tears.
Alice was positively incensed, and growled at me, “Hey, don’t wipe away my tears! Now I’ve got to start whining to get some tears.”
Sigh. How many more days of this?