A bad day in diva land

Well.

I'm having a great day. Even though I turned on the interior lights in the van yesterday and forgot to turn them off (which I didn't see until this morning), the van - with it's AWESOME new battery - started anyway. The old battery would completely die in the amount of time it takes to watch a movie (remember that, Laura?)

I got up and worked out, got back and the kids were still asleep. That let me take a shower without straining to hear signs of mass destruction or sibling-cide over the bathroom fan and the running water. We made it to school on time. I was able to get the form to renew my drivers license signed with absolutely no hassle on base, Old Navy was having a great sale on clothes that actually matched what T already has in his drawer, AND it was a good hair day. On top of that, we made it to Sonic for happy hour. I looooooove their ice. And their tea. And half price drinks in general.

T is also having a great day. It started a little rough, but as soon as he realized it was a school day his entire demeanor changed and he was a breeze for me all day. It fell apart right at dinner time, but I'm blaming that on fatigue and hunger. And on S.

My resident diva, the divine Ms. S, however, is having a very bad day. It all started off okay. She made it through the getting up/changed/dressed/out the door process with no problem. She was excellent while we were getting my drivers license form signed. But on the way to Old Navy, all bets were off. I stopped at Sam's to get gas and she was ticked off that she had to stay in the car. In the six minutes it took me to get from Sam's to Old Navy, she tried to fall asleep and didn't want to get out of the car. She fell and got wet on the way in, then got mad because she couldn't play with the dog mannequin and because I wouldn't buy her a small rubber bouncy ball. There was a table with crayons and coloring pages in the kids section, but she'd only sit there if I colored with her. I coaxed her out of the boys section and to the girls section by asking her if she could find some ballerina skirts. Apparently, anything that is pink or has a heart on it constitutes a ballerina skirt - even if it's pants. Or pajamas. Or tights.

It was finally a small pink, polka dotted ball which she found in a corner that made her completely agreeable. But then I wouldn't buy it, as I explained several times before we went to the register and she happily ignored. And irritable got notched up to wailing and flailing. I picked her up to carry her out of the store and then put her down outside, were she promptly sat in the closest puddle and refused to move. That's okay. I had the time to wait her out. Many minutes and stares from strangers later, I teased her out of the funk by giving her a container of gum. She wanted it put in the hood of her coat, oooookay I can roll with that.

Stepping off the sidewalk and headed to the car, she tripped and fell, skinning her knees a little bit and severely injuring her pride, and soaking the few square inches of her bottom half that wasn't wet. Ever the clever mom, I had bought her the cutest dress inside, so we got to the car and changed her clothes. That cheered my little princess up and she was fine until I stopped to try and go to the bathroom. She screamed at being made to get out of the car, she screamed when I had to turn her around and put her back in the car because the bathroom door was locked and I didn't have time to wait. She screamed when I buckled the seat belt and for about 6 minutes solid after that.

We finally got to school to pick up T, where I needed to talk to his teachers about some changes they wanted to make to his morning routine. So I parked the van, forced S into her coat, and had to drag her kicking and screaming across the parking lot because she wanted to put her gloves on, but threw one of them down because it was wet from where she voluntarily parked her own tushie in a puddle outside of Old Navy. The fit continued as I talked to T's teachers, so I hope in the process of losing a few degrees of hearing in my right ear that I absorbed all the info that I needed to. I guess we'll see on Monday. She was screaming so loud that the gate guard was watching us from a pretty significant distance to make sure I wasn't abusing her, cause sure as the world that's how it sounded. T, God bless him, clapped his hands over his ears and continued to be agreeable. Smart kid.

After another session of forcing her into the car seat, we headed for home, where she threw a fit over yogurt, cheese, and T having the audacity to want to open the fridge after she had been denied something she wanted. Once I got her blood sugar up (at least that's my best guess), she calmed down and even 'rested' on the couch. Compared to the morning events, the afternoon went much better until she refused to put on pj's and then cried because she wanted to wear her new dress, her Thomas the Tank Engine pj's and her Dora gown to bed. I came up with a brilliant solution.

And after all, tomorrow IS another day.