That's what I get for being so high on my superb mothering skills. The first two days of the week went so well. Everyone was so well-behaved, things went according to schedule, and lots of hugs, kisses, and smiles all 'round. I was so pleased.
Today was a little different. I did all the laundry (I hate laundry) and had an annual at my ob-gyn (what could be more fun?). Sari was whiny all day, using baby talk, and doing things like spilling cupfuls of water on the floor and stomping in the resultant puddles. Time out did not faze her in the slightest. She is such a firecracker, that one. In a last ditch effort to salvage my self-image, I took the kids to the park which was okay. After I got Mordechai and Ada to bed and Sari was out of bed for the fourth time in as many minutes, I took her on my lap and relaxed a little. She really is such a mush and, as all you amateur shrinks are muttering, she was just craving attention after all. Who doesn't crave attention? Heck, isn't that what started this whole blog business in the first place? We played "If You're Happy and You Know It" inserting hugs and kisses once the claps and hurrays were exhausted. I felt a little better but I still made Dovid put her to sleep having no patience left for her inevitable antics.
Writing all this (with a glass of wine at my elbow) has really soothed my nerves a bit. Thanks, Internet. Good night.
4 comments:
I actually like the John Lennon song, lulei demistafina, "Nobody Told Me There'd be Days Like These"
I'm so glad you dropped by - what does "lulei demistafina" mean?
Parvus? Who the heck are you? And in answer to #2, White Zinfandel.
Lulei Demistafina is a mix of Hebrew and Aramaic used by commentators to express humility and caution when saying something contrary to earlier greater people. It literally means "if it weren't that I was scared [to argue]".
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