Not so "mellow"

Daddy is hard at work on an end of semester paper so Brother, Little Bitty and I met him for dinner at a spot near campus because this would be their only chance to have some good Daddy-time for the day. It was a dinner like you read about from parents of young children. Except - we weren't reading about it - we were living it. It really just went from bad to worse. It started off with a crying toddler standing in her high chair refusing to sit, ramped up with a shattered pepper shaker on the floor (done mostly on purpose because someone was told not to suck on it), climaxed with a large pepperoni pizza flying off our table and hitting the floor and window next to us, and then came to a nice end with a trip to the (BOYS) bathroom that required a plunger and twenty minute delay (won't go into details on that one). All we could do was laugh. But Little Bitty cried like she lost her best friend when the pizza hit the floor. It was not a mellow evening.


Little Bitty is teething and is a bit like a hormonal woman right now. She had another hearty cry this morning when she brought me a huge, dead mosquito-esque bug and placed it next to my face as I snuggled with Daddy (for like 5 minutes on the couch because he stayed up most of the night writing and I hadn't seen him). She cried because instead of praising her on bringing me something so cool, I screamed and shouted "PUT THAT IN THE TRASH - YUCK!" I know, not the gentle mothering that I normally try to employ - but it startled me. It's like when your cat shows up with a dead bird - all proud and feeling generous by sharing it with you - but it's really just disgusting.

Later this morning I could actually be heard saying "[Little Bitty], you may not play the pouring-juice-from-cup-to-cup game anymore! It wastes juice and ruins our rugs. That little mess just probably cost us $100. DO YOU UNDERSTAND??" "Yes," she replied sweetly. Then I took a breath and realized that I had just lectured my 21 month old on financial waste. At least I didn't drive her to tears this time.

But to show what a complex and dichotomous character I am - I actually hope to spend part of my day making bows for Little Bitty with some fancy ribbon I found on sale at the local craft mart and plan to tackle an adorable bandanna dress later this week as soon as all the materials arrive. It makes me laugh (as much as the lecture I gave this morning) - because this southern-type craftiness doesn't feel like me - and is a far cry from the person lecturing on wasting money this morning. But, it should be fun and a good change of pace from clinical system analysis... right? However, friends - if I start sending you hand-made, "stamped" cards on your birthday or dressing Brother in anything that involves smocking (not that there's anything wrong with that) - send in some sort of help, because it will mean that something is off balance in my world.