PJ’s first poem

The sun is up.
It is day.
The sun is down.
It will come back another day.
Thank you very much.

CT was nice enough to tell her that it is not a real poem because it doesn’t rhyme.

How many adults does it take to swab PJ’s throat?

Today we took a trip into the doctor’s office for a “quick strep test”. CT and PJ both have had fevers with sore throats and upon closer inspection this morning, white spots on the tonsils.

PJ wanted nothing to do with this and started to panic while still in the comfort of her own home. After trying to reason with her, without any success, I just picked her up and plopped her in the car seat and off we went.

She made it very clear that she was not going to get swabbed. Even with her big brother telling her it only tickles and the bribes of donuts and movies, she wasn’t budging.

So the next three minutes of my life looked like this…

CT sat nicely and got his throat swabbed. I kept trying to calm PJ as the hysteria started to set in. The nurse asked her if she wanted to sit on my lap or the table. Unable to hear any response through the high pitched sobs, the nurse mouthed to me “put her on the table and hold her arms down”. PJ starts screaming “I hate this place” and “I hate all of you”, the nurse calmly says, “just open your mouth”. PJ yells “NEEEEVVVVVVEEERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!” One set of swabs goes in, PJ clamps down and keeps them in her mouth too long for them to be any good. So the nurse has her pull them out since her jaw is locked in place and she is unable to do it.

The doctor turned to me and said, “I don’t like doing that, I’m going to have nightmares about this one.”

My little Molten Lava Cake

I thought it might be tough to get her back on the bus to camp this morning since the first thing out of her mouth yesterday when I picked her up from all day camp was, “I’m not going there again, thank you very much.”

It didn’t seem to matter that she made new friends, created a fort that her group hung out in all day, went swimming, sang songs, did crafts and even got to take the bus for the first time in her life. When looking down the dark isle of that bus, she did an about face and ran straight back into the car. When I went after her, her terror filled eyes where stairing back at me like a wild animal about to be attacked, like I was throwing her to the dogs to be left for dead.

Tears and hysterical screaming ensued as I tried to pull her little body from the car, the counselors even tried to talk her off the ledge. But no…she wanted to stay with mommy. She was scared. She did not want anything to do with the bus, her friends, canoeing, songs or anything else they could throw at her.

And it is at these precise moments, where as a mother, I am at a loss. I know I want her to go but should she stay? And then the questions start bouncing around in my head…Is she just not emotionally ready for camp? Do I make her go? Do I let her stay? Did something happen she didn’t tell me about? Am I pushing her too fast to grow up? Is she just being stubborn?

And today, after we watched the bus pull away, we drove down to the next bus stop. We took a little more time. We talked more about the bus and the day and how she was going to get on the bus and who she was going to sit with. Then we walked up the big scary bus stairs together and found her friend, who was just as scared as she was, saving her a seat.

Laying down the law

Over the past week, PJ has been taking the liberty of running away from me at the pool. Where does she run you ask? Anywhere the hell she wants, I answer. Ok, let’s see…she runs to the bathroom, to get her towel, to the sand, to the other end of the pool, to say hello to the lifeguards, to see floating discarded Band-Aids, get my drift?

Just so you know. Rule number one on our list of three pool rules is, “WE MUST ALL STICK TOGETHER and if you want to go somewhere else you MUST ask permission”.

This morning on the way into the pool I made it very clear to all three children that if anyone, including PJ, ran anywhere without permission we would pick up and leave immediately. Everyone knew what was at stake and on this 90 degree day we all were hoping for the best.

Suddenly, she turns to me and says she wants to go home. I look at the clock, it is only 12:15 and we usually don’t leave for a good hour or so. I tell her it is not time yet but we will leave soon. And then she does it, like a bolt of lightning…gone across the pool to places visually unattainable until I am running with child number three in my arms after her.

Once I nab her little arm, stop her and ask her what she’s doing, she looks me straight in the eye and says, “Well mom, you said we would have to leave if I ran away…so I did.”

AARRRRRRGGUH!!!!

Kid quote of the day

Mom, there’s a bug trying to make a home in my nose.

Birds and the bees

As I was stepping out of the shower yesterday, PJ walked in to go potty. And the following conversation ensued:

PJ: I neeeeeeed aaaaaa wiiiiiipe.

Me: Walking towards her buck naked and then completing the wiping process. Here you go.

PJ: Mom, can you please keep that fuzzy away from me?

Me: Ahh, well sure.

PJ: Why do you have that fuzzy hair and I don’t?

Me: Well, adults grow hair there and when you get older you will too.

PJ: Oh…waaaaaaaay cool.

Introducing…

PJ’s favorite doll of the week.


She named her Snow White.

Princess P turns FOUR

Dear PJ,

The following is an email I sent to your dad four years ago today.

May 2, 2002 10:10 am

Adam,
FYI…I am still contracting. They are about 7 minutes apart. The shower slowed things down a bit. I am trying to pack-up just in case. I can still talk through them but breathing heavy. Sara (the backyard neighbor and doula) is on alert and so is your mom. I’ll keep you posted. Be ready to bolt, you may need to. I love you…what a beautiful day to have a baby.
Love,
M

Four years ago today, just like today, it is beautiful out. The sun was shining, the crab-apple trees were in full bloom and you couldn’t wait to make your entrance. Two hours after I sent that email, you were here.

You, my little sweet P, are something else. You are able to conjure up more white hot rage in me than any of the other kids, yet at moments when you find are right, you love deeper and softer than anyone I know. You are filled with spunk and hootzpa and sass, and for that alone I will and do enjoy watching you navigate the world.

You like what you like. You hate what you hate. You will give things a try. You are strong in will and spirit. You are intelligent. You are filled with curiosity. You are lacking in patience. You love to color with thin markers. You still love pink. You love to swing. You love the crab-apple tree that blooms in your name, on your birthday, every year.

We love you, I love you…my sweet n’ strong little girl.

Happy 4th Birthday!

Love,
Mom

The Princess Party

This year I made at least one good parenting decision. That decision was to follow the age old rule of inviting as many kids to the birthday party as is the age of the child.

That meant four for PJ. Then, one did not show, so we had a total of four.

This party was delightful. These girls did nothing but giggle, giggle and then giggle some more for two solid hours.

Happy Birthday Party Day Princess PJ…her “real” birthday has yet to come.

And the white flags are a fly’n

I just…I just…I just don’t get it. Why on earth some days are like torture. Why wee little ones prefer to push and push and push until there is nothing left of me or them.

Today I have had the misfortune of having to “follow through” with a whole slew of threats that I doled out and all for not listening, the first time. I’m honestly done with my kids ignoring me or dismissing me.

PJ is the one who seems to be having the hardest time with this new concept of listening, the first time. Today she has missed out on a swim outing and milk and stories before quiet time. If things continue down this path, she will lose her TV privileges for the day. And to tell you the truth, that is all I got left. There is nothing else to take.

Even though I am not the beating type, days like this one make it hard to find balance in the rage. And now as I sit and try to write away my anger I find myself thinking of her fortitude and her strength and her stubbornness and her will power and how she is forging her own way and making it her own, standing out from her brothers and taking her own stand.

Someday, when she is older and wiser, she will take all that makes her maddening to me, bundle it up, use it to her advantage in life and be a VERY strong and beautiful woman.

And people…mark my words, you all better watch out, because if you get in her way I have not doubt that she will cut you.