We've been barraged with illness here in the House O'Speak. Little started it with a really rotten cold which lasted 7 days at which time we spent a full night awake with her and a double ear infection. About a day after that, Big started with the cold. On Thursday (last Thursday) evening she got a fever that lasted all weekend. I could get it down to around 99, but until Sunday morning she was feeling cruddy and miserable. Little, in the meantime was getting better. And bouncing off the walls. On Wednesday, I had my first Physical Therapy (PT) appointment since my MRI diagnosis. By Friday, I was more or less couch bound. As you might imagine, the Speak house was big fun this last week. By Monday morning, Little was feeling like herself, Big was dragging herself along, as was I. Little saw her opportunity.
Little started with hassling her sister, of course. She wanted the pink spoon, and the orange cup, etc... After they ate, they went into the bathroom with instructions to brush their hair & teeth. Big has long hair, so it takes her a little longer and she's the one who actually needed to be somewhere at a certain time. Knowing this, Little made sure to grab the hair brush first. I was finishing getting Big's lunch together in the kitchen and could hear the scuffle starting the bathroom. I yelled for Little to give her sister the brush. Little yelled something to the effect that she needed it. I replied, "Give the brush to your sister, or you're going to get a time out!" To which Little responded by throwing the brush on tile floor, while yelling (in case the all caps didn't give it away), "NO! DAMN IT! I NEED IT!"
As you might imagine, my 3 year old was so dead not getting away with that one. I went into the bathroom, where I found her sitting on her step stool hugging the brush. I took the brush & gave it to her sister. Grabbed her wrist, and dragged her to the timeout chair. The whole time she was yelling at me how she, "Needed to brush her hair!" I was asking her if she wanted her mouth washed out with soap. She was not happy. As I placed her into the chair, she turned toward me and yelled, "Bad Mommy!" while trying to hit me. I grabbed her arm as it came toward me, so instead she tried to bite me. "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE GETTING SOAP!" And she got a pump between the lips. Soap in the mouth, pleased the heck out of her, as you might guess. She ran to the bathroom for water, which didn't help. So she shouted at me, "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" Ahhh, another milestone. (Her sister hasn't said this one to me yet.) I replied, "Well, I don't like the way you're acting." Then she became a puddle. I told her to go brush her teeth, that it would help. She asked me to help her, so I did. And we moved on.
And THAT is how my week STARTED.