Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Mommy's Little Psycho

Mini Me entered kindergarten last week with grand triumph. This is not a story about her first day or week of school. This post is not about my baby, my last child, entering school and me having flash-forwards of her going off to college (though I could write such a thing, for sure). This little ditty isn't about my foray into bon-bons and soap operas, because I am childless between the hours of 8 and 3.

Oh no. I tell you about MM entering kindergarten last week to remind all of you that she is only 5. Five. The number of fingers on one hand. One more year than is between Olympic Games and presidential elections.

I know that it's biologically impossible, but I swear my daughter has PMS.

For the past few months, drama seems to happen wherever MM is. Either her brothers are committing some act of fraternal oppression against her, or they're not paying enough attention to her. Her socks are either too tight or not tight enough. The other day, she complained there were not enough bubbles in her bath; when I poured more in, suddenly, there were too many.

I just can't win. We. We just can't win.

She also seems to be having all the food issues that go along with PMS. She's 43 inches and 38 pounds...a tall, slender girl, but she alone can eat me out of house and home. I bought Hershey bars and marshmallows the other day for a recipe (BTW the chocolate chip smore cookies going around Pinterest...totes yummy), and I swear her head spun around and fangs came out when I refused her request for both.

Do they make Midol, Jr.?

That better be STRAWBERRY, Mother. G'ah!


Monday, she pitched a mega-fit because Larry Potter dared to turn on the television before she did. There were alligator tears and pounding fists, all with the battle cry of "I haven't watch TV all DAY!" She then demanded her brother turn off his show and turn on hers instead, to which he essentially told her to suck it. I suggested she go downstairs to watch TV, and you would have though I'd offered her generic peanut butter. She was indignant. Five minutes later, still with tears streaming down her face, she asked me to buy her soccer shoes for her first practice. And then happily marched downstairs to watch Spongebob.

I have new appreciation for my husband (and JDub's husband Vitamin P) during those few days of emotional instability I may experience from time-to-time (months at a time for JDub).

I don't know what to do but ride this out for the next seven years or so. And buy her copius amounts of chocolate and marshmallows, because DH and the boys and I are all a little scared of her.

3 comments:

  1. I feel your pain - my 5 year olds are going through this too! One more than the other thankfully, but either way I hope this is just a phase and that we'll have a maybe a small break in between this phase and the teen years!

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  2. Look at the bright side - you could be like me and have 3 daughters!!! I love them dearly, but it is all drama all the time around here. If it's not one it's another. It is exhausting!!! (And I totally believe that a 5 year old can have PMS - I have been saying that about my oldest for years!!!)

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  3. Exact same here!!! My little bundle of terror just went into K and she's also cheering. Her first game she threw a huge fit bc her socks were too tight and she just KNEW I shrunk her shoes?! She hates me.

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