I'm having trouble getting Juliana to willingly do her homework, and even if I get her to start it, she loses interest. GAHHHHH this has to stop. She's already in the frame of mind that "homework is boring" thanks to older kids at school.
I'm sooooo tired lately. Getting up in the morning is really hard sometimes, even if I've had enough sleep the night before. I think it's because I don't really let myself get into a deep enough sleep because I'm listening for the girls in case they call out for me.
Last night, I almost had a heart attack, I swear. Grace is the one that is shy and sweet... on the surface. She has a tendency to pick up cuss words and store them for later use, and when she uses them, it's always used appropriately. Remember that this child is going to be 4 yrs old around Thanksgiving. It was bed time and she was refusing to go. She just wasn't ready. She decided it was time to play dress up and insisted that I put on her shoes. I said no, it's time for a bath and then bed. She threw her shoes at me, then asked me to put her sneakers on. This time, less nicely, I told her NO, it's not time to dress up, it's time to get in the shower and then go to bed. She looked me right in the face, squinted her eyes at me and said through clenched teeth "You're a bitch." Bitch came out sounding like "bit." My eyes got huge and I said "WHAT did you just call me?" She smiled and said again "You're a bitch." "Did you just call me a bitch?" She giggled, excited that I understood her, and said it one more time "You're a bitch." Yes, I popped her on the mouth and told her, up close to her face "You will never use that word to me again or you will be punished. You are going upstairs NOW." I walked away, because honestly, I was afraid I'd hurt her. I turned on the shower and got Juliana and Anneliese into the tub. Grace got in herself as I called my mom to vent. I think if I hadn't made that phone call, I'd have given her a real honest to God spanking like my dad used to give me. And understand that means leaving a hand print, bruises, and many tears. So rather than hurt my child and give in to my shock and upset over my 3 yr old calling me a bitch, I called my mother. During the shower, Grace got upset with Juliana and called HER a bitch! OMG! I swear I don't curse much in front of the kids, and I certainly never use bitch in front of them. I know I don't. I might say damn and crap, but that's about it. Where did she get this from? I took her right out of the shower, forget bath time afterwards, and told her that using the word bitch the way she did was wrong and hurtful. That if she ever used that word again, she'd be punished and her Bibble would be taken away to jail for a couple of days.
OK, here's something for me to feel good about. I've lost 18.5 pounds, and while I've been stuck there for a week or 2, that's OK.
Which reminds me of a conversation I had with my MIL last week. She called me on Thursday or thereabouts to tell me that she didn't like the condition of my house when she showed up for Juliana's birthday party. Yes, we didn't budget time well that morning and were in the middle of last minute clean-up. We were running very late. She then told me that I'm a bad housekeeper and that if we lived closer to her, my house would never be such a horrible mess because she'd be close enough to teach me to be a better housekeeper and wife. Hmmm, OK, I'll let that slide because of the ONE rare occasion that my house wasn't presentable for a house full of people for a party we had planned.
Then, she insulted how I dress my kids. Apparently, I dress them like hobos because the last visit to her house, I knew they would be outside and getting dirty so I put play clothes on them. When Anneliese got out of the car, she had spilled a little bit of water from her sippy cup (or more likely, spit it out) and got the front of her shirt dirty. The shirt, BTW, was her size but the sleeves were slightly long, so MIL decided that none of my children's clothes fit properly. Because of the pigeon-toed thing, Anneliese's right shoe kept falling off, but she also has chubby feet. That didn't help my case, apparently.
Next, I don't dress myself or my husband properly. Manny dresses himself, thanks, and he chose clothes that day that were appropriate for playing and rough-housing and doing yard work. We were only going to MIL's so what was the point in dressing up if he'd have to mow their lawn and would be rolling on the grass with the kids? Since I'm losing weight, the clothes I had been wearing weren't fitting right any more, but we don't have the budget to get me new clothes. This was right before Tracy gave me some of her old clothes that are smaller than what I'd been wearing. So I look like a slob to MIL.
She actually said to me "You used to be so skinny, when you were dating Manny. You were so beautiful and skinny. What happened to you, I don't know, but you're not skinny any more. I just don't know what's wrong with you." In a thick, heavy Italian accent. I tell you, I adore the woman, but I'm not speaking to her right now. I'm feeling quite low, mood-wise, since she made the comment AFTER I told her I've lost almost 20 lbs. She then tells me "Now don't be mad at me for saying all of this. I'm only telling the truth. You can't be mad. Are you mad?" I think my response was "No, I'm not mad. Yet. I have to go now." We had to go to Carina's birthday party on Sunday so of course MIL was there. I pretty much ignored her. I did tell Manny what she said, and how essentially, she told me that I'm a bad mother, a bad housekeeper, a bad wife, and I'm a fat loser to boot. When he saw her Saturday (before the party, of course) she brought the conversation up with him, asking him if I'd said anything to him about it. She repeated everything she had said to me, so basically backed me up. And do you know what he did??? He defended her to me. DEFENDED HER TO ME yet said he understood why I was upset. All he told her was that she shouldn't have said those things "the way she did." Screw that, she shouldn't have said them AT ALL. Yes, I'm still upset. Yes, it's affecting my daily mood. It's making me pissy and I'm really upset because I thought I had a good enough relationship with her where she'd cut me a little slack and respected me, even if she doesn't like certain things about me. There's plenty I don't like about myself but damn, I'm TRYING. I'm really trying hard to fix my life and get things the way I want them and need them to be. I had been feeling good about succeeding on making my life better, on being a better housekeeper, on working hard and being good.
Shot to hell. I feel like crap, and I suppose there's some truth to some of what she said... but very clearly, in her eyes, I'm a miserable failure as a human being and somehow that excuses her for shitting all over me.
EDITED TO ADD: This is a Bibble.