Diva in Training
Apparently the drama training I had in high school was absorbed by Vivian in the womb.
Since the Dorf and I were both home yesterday, and he needed to pick up the suit of hotness for his friend's wedding, we walked with the girls down to the mall. We had the obligatory grease meal (I've had two greasy meals in two days-I want to die now thank you) and wandered into the toy store. Night was fast approaching, and so while he ran over to Moore's for his SOH, I walked over to the dollar store with the girls.
We purchased Vivian little fuzzy socks for her always cold feet so she's stop wearing mine.
Then, she lost her mind.
When Vivian becomes evil (aka-tired) she gets "the look". The look is generally, a glimmer of danger, mischief and badness, all in one eye, accompanied with a smile and giggle that loosely translated means "You will regret that we're missing my normal bedtime".
She ran off to play with balloons. I nicely told her to come with my and Rosalyn a few times. That giggle again.
I waled over, and picked her up, telling her to come with me. She giggled AGAIN, and still didn't come. I stood her back up, and held on to her arm, walking her towards the stroller, and out of the store. Then she pulled one way and I pulled the other and something went "pop"
ohgodohgodohgod
We've been here before, about this time last year. Her father took her for a walk, and the slipped, pulling her elbow from it's socket. And she was crying and upset like she was that time, and wouldn't let me touch it.
My heart sank to a level previously unknown, with visions of Children's Aid in my head, lectures, people telling bad mommy stories about me while they drank coffee wearing cpari's from Club Monaco. I felt HORRID.
And of course, both children then began to bellow. We tried bribing Vivian with ice cream. Despite the pain, she insisted it be one with a chocolate on top.
I should have had some suspicions right then.
She insisted I carry her, or she ride in the stroller, which she hates normally. We lugged her on the bus, me wondering how in hell I'm going to get to the hospital with her, and if they'll take her away since I must be a terrible mommy hurting her baby. I kissed away her tears and told her I was sorry, so sorry!
We get off the bus, and trudge home, when suddenly, the previously incapacitated arm is flung out so she can pull her sleeve back. The tears disappear and she tells us she's hungry as we walk up our front steps.
We were PLAYED. HARD.
This kid is 3 years old. And yet she knew exactly how to play us for maximum effect. And it worked, it worked perfectly.
I cringe to think what she'll be like at 15.
Since the Dorf and I were both home yesterday, and he needed to pick up the suit of hotness for his friend's wedding, we walked with the girls down to the mall. We had the obligatory grease meal (I've had two greasy meals in two days-I want to die now thank you) and wandered into the toy store. Night was fast approaching, and so while he ran over to Moore's for his SOH, I walked over to the dollar store with the girls.
We purchased Vivian little fuzzy socks for her always cold feet so she's stop wearing mine.
Then, she lost her mind.
When Vivian becomes evil (aka-tired) she gets "the look". The look is generally, a glimmer of danger, mischief and badness, all in one eye, accompanied with a smile and giggle that loosely translated means "You will regret that we're missing my normal bedtime".
She ran off to play with balloons. I nicely told her to come with my and Rosalyn a few times. That giggle again.
I waled over, and picked her up, telling her to come with me. She giggled AGAIN, and still didn't come. I stood her back up, and held on to her arm, walking her towards the stroller, and out of the store. Then she pulled one way and I pulled the other and something went "pop"
ohgodohgodohgod
We've been here before, about this time last year. Her father took her for a walk, and the slipped, pulling her elbow from it's socket. And she was crying and upset like she was that time, and wouldn't let me touch it.
My heart sank to a level previously unknown, with visions of Children's Aid in my head, lectures, people telling bad mommy stories about me while they drank coffee wearing cpari's from Club Monaco. I felt HORRID.
And of course, both children then began to bellow. We tried bribing Vivian with ice cream. Despite the pain, she insisted it be one with a chocolate on top.
I should have had some suspicions right then.
She insisted I carry her, or she ride in the stroller, which she hates normally. We lugged her on the bus, me wondering how in hell I'm going to get to the hospital with her, and if they'll take her away since I must be a terrible mommy hurting her baby. I kissed away her tears and told her I was sorry, so sorry!
We get off the bus, and trudge home, when suddenly, the previously incapacitated arm is flung out so she can pull her sleeve back. The tears disappear and she tells us she's hungry as we walk up our front steps.
We were PLAYED. HARD.
This kid is 3 years old. And yet she knew exactly how to play us for maximum effect. And it worked, it worked perfectly.
I cringe to think what she'll be like at 15.
Zoe has done that where I'm holding her hand or arm and she drops to her knees and *pop*. It's so common it has a name: Nursemaid's Elbow. So don't feel too terrible ;)
Posted by
Stephanie |
4:23 p.m.
Oh my jeebus that happened to us last weekend! I was not feeling well, and had lots of school stuff to catch up on, so James took Max to the Museum of Science. Max was naughty, kept flinging himself down while holding James' hand and refusing to walk. When they got home, Max was crying and kept pointing to his arm.
I had the same panicked vision of losing him to Child's Services--as it is the kid's a walking black & blue from his crazy antics.
I got dressed and Googled Nursemaid's Elbow, and by then he had fully recovered and was jumping and climbing all over the place again. Phew. Glad she's ok!
Posted by
karrie |
4:29 p.m.
There's an actual NAME for it? Why didn't I know this?
Little Diva is now playing up a tiny foot scratch. Is this some kind of developmental stage no one told me about?
Makes me feel better to know this is normal-I dreamed last night that we left the kids in some hotel or office somewhere and took off for a few hours, and when we came back, they were gone and the childrens services had taken them.
It's kinda scary how scared we are that someone will take them away isn't it?
Posted by
thordora |
5:14 p.m.
It's not too different from being too sick to go to school until five minutes after too late to get there.
Miraculous recovery.
Posted by
Granny |
10:50 p.m.