Seriously, I do not think I'm going to make it until this child starts kindergarten. I suppose I have created this monster, but I don't know how. This morning, I was sleeping when Maria came in at 7:04. She was yapping away, "It's 7:00! I know it's after 7:00, but it's so dark, isn't it so dark? It's so dark but it's after 7:00. It's after 7:00, I know, but it seems dark". I lifted my head, just barely, to check my phone and it was 7:04. I guess it's a little overcast but whatever, it's not like it was really dark. I was just mad because I thought and hoped she was wrong and it was 5:00 and I could make her go back to bed. I was up late because we had dinner late and then Anthony was up until 1:00, banging away in his room so anyway, I was tired and grumpy and I am SICK of Maria getting up so early. She gets up so early and has for so long that I feel like I should be GRATEFUL that she sleeps until 7:04! What the hell kind of world is this?
Then she started talking to Mike. Can anyone guess what she wanted to talk about? Anyone? I bet you can guess. She wanted to know where she was going today. It would be funny if...well it would be funny NEVER or maybe if it were happening to someone else. But it's not happening to someone else, it's happening to me. Every day of my stupid life, some jerk store crawls up my ass and starts honking away about what she is doing today, ORDERING me around and I can't take it. Mike took her downstairs, he knows I am dangerously close to losing my mind and I don't know what kind of help I could be from the loony bin. So he took her downstairs and she stayed down there for about 40 minutes and then she came up and started up again, where is she going, can she go to Target, where will she be going later, why can't she go to Target, she wants to go somewhere, can she go? Where?
Yesterday after swimming, we went to play in the play area at the Y. I didn't break the normal POUNDS of food that I bring for after swimming because we were heading home right after, but that didn't stop them from bugging me for food. We're HUNGRY!, Maria yelled at me, in front of everyone. I'm hungry! What do you have for me? I said let's go home and we can eat every single thing in the house, the pantry, the cabinets and food drawer, let's do it! Nooooo!, she yells back! I WANT SOMETHING FROM THE BENDING MACHINE! We started to walk out and this woman in front of me held the door, she said what everyone always says to me, some variant of 'you look like you could use some help!', which is humiliating but whatever, she was holding the door. She said her daughter was eleven and she was horrible too, I said I admit, I'm scared of how this girl is going to be as a teenager. Keep in mind Maria was YAPPING away this whole time, doing her litany about how was she hungry? Yes. Was she going to get food from the bending machine? No. Did she have any money? No. Did she need money for the bending machine? Yes!, Did she have money for the bending machine? NO! Would her mother give her any money? NO! On and on and on and on and on and on and ON, Lord, GOD I consider it to be a remarkable accomplishment that I don't just spend all day smacking her mouth.
Here's a picture of us walking out:
Mike took them to the fair this week, just Maria and Veronica, I stayed home with Felicity. They had a great time, rode ponies, went on rides, played games and won prizes. Then when they got home, Mike threw the balls that they won over the fence and Maria went insane, crying and screaming. I had just laid Felicity down for a nap and started coloring my hair, so I ran downstairs to see what was wrong. She was mad that Mike had thrown the balls over the fence because now she couldn't see what was hers and what was Veronica's! Screaming! Actual screaming and crying! I go out and look and I see two identical pink balls. She cried for 15 minutes about it. I told her, Maria, Daddy took off from work, drove you there, paid all this money, pushed you in a stroller around the fair and really? Really you are going to scream and cry because he threw the ball over the fence? YES!, she told me. I do not even know.
We've decided not to have her buy her lunch at school, not regularly anyway. We might just have her buy it on Mondays but we will see. I did find out last night that they only get 20 minutes for lunch, isn't that crazy? Not 30 minutes for lunch? I mean, we don't spend 20 minutes eating lunch, so I'm sure it will be fine but it doesn't sound like a lot of time.
Anyway. My head is killing me from the pure torture of being home with Maria when we don't have plans. It's 10:36 and she has already gone to her room twice this morning, and I'm not counting the time that she tried to carry her table up the stairs. In closing, I want to say help me, get me out of here, what have I done to deserve this, etc.
Post Labor Day Post
2 weeks ago