I picked Grace up from preschool, and she seemed happy enough to be going home. No struggles either way, which was good because it's 14º and windy as anything out, so the wind chill factor makes it something like -10º or something. I was pretty bundled, except I forgot my gloves, and even a quick run from the car to the school and back, then into the house was absolute hell. Which reminds me, I don't think that Hell is actually all fire and brimstone. I think that being "the absence of God" it's frigid. At least, my Hell would be. OK, moving on.
My fingers, in the space of time it took to run from the car with the girls to the door (think less than one minute) my fingers were only exposed for a moment since I tucked them inside my coat. But taking my keychain out of my sleeve, making sure I had the right key, and then trying to turn the key in the key-hole... well, my fingers weren't strong enough to turn the damned key. They were THAT cold! It's been a few minutes, and I'm warmed up already, but my fingers are burning as I type this. My hands are bright red.
So during this rush from the school to the car and home, Grace decides she wants to go to the park behind the school. Obviously, my answer was a resounding "No, honey, it's too cold. The coldness will hurt you today." She seemed OK with that until we pulled into the driveway, and I went to unbuckle her from her car seat. She said "I want the park NOW!" and then "I want to go SHOPPING! NO HOME!" All I could think about was getting the kids inside before their little faces froze. Very crisply and quickly, I said "No, it's too cold, we need to get in the house NOW."
"MOM! You're a BAD! Old! BIT!"
Um, yeah, Grace was put into time-out as soon as we got in the house. It's been months since the last "Mom You're A Bitch" incident with Grace, so I thought we had jumped that particular hurdle. She did start to cry as soon as she realized that I understood what she said and declared to her "WHAT did you say?!?" When we walked in the door, I told her it was time for time-out, and using "bitch" to me was unacceptable. She dropped to the floor at my feet, crying... she knew she was in trouble. I put her on the stairs for her time-out, gave her a kiss, and turned on the tea kettle since before the "Mom You're a Bitch" incident, I had promised to make hot cocoa.
I know she had a good day at school, but sometimes, once she's home, she feels overwhelmed. I got her calmed down, warmed up, and she's sipping cocoa and is a completely different child. She's bubbly and chirping about her cocoa being deeee-wishus, and how she wants to share it with her "babies." She won't apologize, but she offered me some of her cocoa and told me that if I'm sick, she'll get me some water and take me to the hop-it-all.
Is it bed time yet?