January 21, 2010

What the??!!

I have to make a confession.

My child…

Yes, this really adorable piggy tailed beauty.

Something has happened to her. I don’t know where she’s gone but I am searching for the pod the aliens have put her in.

You see, the past couple of weeks have been….interesting, to say the least. One must walk on eggshells around Audrey for fear of sudden DOOM falling upon them. Who knows what might trigger it? Having to put on her shirt or go to the potty. Or maybe asking her to eat her breakfast or HORROR OF HORRORS making her sit in the cart at Target.

So you see, what I’m trying to say is this child.

Yes, this adorable bathing beauty. She MAY POSSIBLY be possessed by demons. Erratic demons who have no idea what they’re really mad about – just that they are mad and they’re going to tell you about it. (Or possibly kick you in the face/shin/belly)

We started off great today. REALLY great. She was my Tootsie Dee. Sweet, cooperative, ate her breakfast and her lunch, left the “Chikilay” playground easily. I felt good, I felt confident, I felt like I could take her to TARGET!!

Target. My happy place. That is where things went sour. Fast.

Because you see, this child. This sweet little food snatcher. Well…she decided she didn’t want to be at Target anymore. When I had a full cart. And I was at the back of the store.

So this child. This sweet little bubble covered pee’er. She decided she wanted to “GO HOME!” and she wanted to “GET DOWN!” and she decided that the most effective way to convey that message to me was to kick! throw things! and SCREEEEAM!

The best part was her fit over her new pink microphone. Poppa had given her two dollars to get a toy. (Because this child NEEDS toys. You’ve seen her playroom. Bless her heart, the child is NEEDY.) She picked a pink microphone and before said meltdown she was singing away – happy as a wee pig in the sunshine.

Then, before I know it…she HATES the microphone. “I don’t WANT this microphone.!!!” I take it and put it on the shelf (and NO, not the correct shelf, get over it). Then she’s screaming “MY MIIIICROPHONE!! GIVE ME MY MIIIIIICROPHONE! OH NOOOOOOO!!!” I gave it back to her (because I am WEAK) and she throws it, again. “NO! I DON’T WANT THIS MICROPHONE!!! PUT IT UP!” I put it up and…well….you can probably guess what happened. (The microphone may be on the candy shelf of aisle 6.)

I had a moment. A moment where I just stopped around the clothing section and just stared at her. I didn’t know what to do – I was at a complete loss. I bribed her (PLEASE be quiet and Mommy will get you an Icee), KICK! I threatened her (BE QUIET NOW or when we get home you will go STRAIGHT to time out), WHAM! So I just stared at her and thought of better days. Days where a tiny braided beauty plays quietly with Mr. Potato Head.

Where has this girl gone? Can someone help me find her? PLEASE??!!! Because if she doesn’t return soon her Daddy may come home to find me in the corner sucking my thumb.

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