Look, I know I am wrong. But I am also really desperate. I have adorable kids – I really do. I love them with all my heart – really.
Tonight’s blog is dedicated to one of them. My little Miss G. She is a terror. We call her KB – from the movie Kill Bill. I am almost positive she was a female assassin in a past life. She has the makings of a hollywood DIVA. First, if I say so myself, she is gorgeous ( bli eyn ha’rah!). So to the unsuspecting victim, she seems almost angelic. But no. That is far from how we would describe her.
She swears all day long, thank G-d she only knows PC words at the moment. But the way she spews them out – with all the venom she could muster – they have a far more powerful impact, than if she knew the real words. If anyone other than her mommy, and maybe one or two other chosen individuals (her daddy not being one of them), were to accidentally touch her; her rage would erupt like Vesuvius, fast, furious and fatal. That would include complete strangers in grocery stores. No-one is exempt.
If she wants something, and we have adamantly refused, she could scream for 5 hours straight. Whether we take things away from her, put her in the corner, even the bathroom does not work. I thought Sugardaddy would lose his mind this past Shabbos. And then we had the whole of Purim to contend with the sugar added to the violent mix. We literally celebrated when she passed out in the car, while we delivered our shaloch manos (she fell asleep only after she screamed for 2 hours straight).
Did I mention that she is not yet 3 years old? That is the problem. I think she is way too much for her little self, but she will grow into herself – as weird as that may sound. But hold on – I have to mention the good too. She is extremely independent. She has been dressing herself since she was 24 months old – and I mean tights too! She has been potty trained since she was under 2 years old. Her vocabulary far exceeds her age, and her understanding of things astounds me. She is extremely protective over her baby sister, and looks after her every need.
Back to the point at hand though. We arrived at our Purim Seudah, at our gracious hosts. My darling Mic – a very mischievous nearly 9-year-old – stumbled upon a stash of scary looking masks. During the meal she decided to slip one on. The baby nearly collapsed, but little Miss G actually turned purple with fright! Mommy came to the rescue and I shooed Mic away. All was well. Adults went back to their meal, while my sweet little ones kept eating off the buffet mountain of candy’s in the kitchen. Purim I have no say. I let them have whatever they want – it is like a ‘get out of jail free’ card.
Mic sneaked into the kitchen wearing a different mask. G landed on my lap in one bound, and the words just popped out of my mouth, ” You see what happens when we eat junk? That man comes….” With that she spat out the remaining morsels of chocolate and sat shivering on my lap. I could not believe that I finally found something that she was afraid of!
So now it is the day after Purim and I am milking that scary mask, as much as I can. The minute she asks for junk, or gets out of hand, or just plain-old won’t listen; I arch my brows, cock my head and ask ” Uh-oh did I hear the man?”
We have had a most pleasant day today. I have to admit. Does this mean we will be in family therapy during the teen years?