Nothing is ever easy for me in this house!

You know these window cleaners aren't having ridiculous tantrums!
You know these window cleaners aren’t having ridiculous tantrums!

Todays tantrum is brought to you by chores.  My 9 year old wanted to wash the windows, and I’m not about to turn down anyone who wants to wash my windows.  But do you know what you get when you have an overtired kid, some window cleaner and a roll of paper towels, and then add in some blinds that won’t stay up for her?

You get a tantrum!   And not just a normal tantrum.  You get a full blown Remember-Being-Three-Tantrum.

Since I was in the kitchen doing my own chore, I didn’t realize she was having trouble until I heard the blood curdling scream from the den.   “STUPID blinds!”   I go into the den and quickly and easily adjust them and then she just starts crying, “Why is everything so easy for you!   Why do you do this so easy?  It’s not fair!   Nothing is ever easy for me in this house!”  Then she runs to her room crying.

And so I stand there and walk back into the kitchen and finish the dishes.  And that’s when the two year old labrador runs and jumps on my daughter’s bed.  All the dog wants is to love on her and make her feel better.  She wants to play.  Yet, this makes my child cry even harder and then she screams, “I hate you Lucy!   Get away from me!”   She doesn’t use the OFF command though,  and so Lucy just stays on the bed.

And that’s when I lose it.  Not for the tantrum, but because she didn’t use a command and is getting angry at the dog.

When my little rant was over,  I just wanted to grab the keys and drive to Target and just walk around aimlessly looking at home decor.  I wanted to just drive somewhere.  Anywhere.  I dreamt of fruity drinks with umbrellas, going to concerts, and being able to do what I wanted when I wanted.   I took a deep breath and began to count because I wanted to tell her to get a grip.  I wanted to tell her that things were easy for me because I’m decades older than she is and that she needed to just suck it up!  That’s what I wanted to tell her, but instead I just kept breathing and counting because the tears were starting to form.  Nothing is ever really easy for me in this house either.


Skinny Jeans are from Hell

None of this material should be made into skinny jeans!
None of this material should be made into skinny jeans!

Skinny jeans, I’ve determined will be the death of me.  They are what makes my life a living hell every morning.   My daughter used to be a kid who didn’t care what she wore.  She’d wear red, white and blue stripped shirts with pink flower pants and have three ponytails.  It just didn’t matter.  She was three then, and she marched to the beat of a different drummer when it came to her sense of fashion.  Nothing matched.  Ever!  One time she wore her Halloween costume for a week.

I miss those days.

Now, I deal with tantrums over skinny jeans.  Imagine my surprise when I felt the swoosh of the jeans fly over my head while I was walking down the hall from her bedroom followed by a screaming, crying fit over the fact I wouldn’t buy her more jeans.  You see, she has two pair of skinny jeans, and another pair that’s just “normal.”  And by normal, I mean absolutely hideous.  And by hideous, I mean jeans that aren’t “skinny.”

Somehow, my 9 year old has decided that all pants that she owns need to be “skinny.”   This is because all of her friends only have skinny jeans, and that she is the only girl in her entire grade who owns a single pair of non-skinny jeans!   Imagine the horror?  I’m ruining her life one pair of jeans at a time.

What I wanted to do was yell at her and invent some imaginative curse words that really conveyed what I was feeling at that moment.  I wanted to tell her that I just could care less about her jeans.  But I just watched her as she cried and cried while kicking her non-skinny jeans all over her room and then lifted them up and put them on and yelled, “See?   They don’t fit!   They are too small!!!!  I hate these jeans!  I hate my life, and these stupid not skinny jeans!”

I looked at her and squinted, adjusted my glasses, and replied, “But you’ve just pulled up your jeans without even unzipping them.  If anything you need a belt.  You’ve grown a bit, I think. But, they still fit!”

When did such young kids start caring so much about clothes?    I asked her why she didn’t tell me all this while we were buying her jeans at the start of this school year, and her only reply was, “Well, I just didn’t know I’d like skinny jeans this much!”

We play this little game now.  She hides the non-skinny jeans in the donation pile, and I drag them out while she’s sleeping and put them back in her closet.  They still fit her, after all!