The Things That Stick

My kids fight about the dumbest things in the world. It is so frustrating. Aislyn’s been crying and carrying on for half an hour because Desmond has the iPad and she changed her mind at the last minute about choosing it. I’m trying to get her to stop by redirecting her and it’s not working. Crying marathons. I don’t remember Desmond doing this. But he had other, more serious marathons.

Aislyn threw a chair a little while ago. I think she was imitating Desmond, who throws things when he’s angry. I did the same thing I do to Desmond: room. Frankly, I’m getting a headache from the crying and arguing and trying to manage it.

You can’t stop a kid from saying things, I mean literally verbalizing. And they’re smart, they know it. You can only invoke consequences, and mine aren’t always effective.

I just discovered I have discoloration all over the sleeve of my shirt. I am PO’d because it’s one of my favorite shirts, and I don’t have too many I can wear right now.

She is quite dramatic. I never say that to her, because I was told the same thing as a kid, and obviously it stuck with me. Funny, the things that stick, isn’t it. Nevertheless, she is rather dramatic: “You’ve ruined my life!”

I’m sure I was, too. I hope I’m not, now. But sometimes I think I do create unnecessary drama where none previously existed because my childhood was so tumultuous.

There’s no drama right now, though. Life of Leah is quiet and, well, insulated.

Anyway, they’re getting along now, and I have to get up from my comfy chair with purring kitty to make lunch. Oops, never mind, he got up. Guess that’s my cue.

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