I have decided that Hallie came to our family to try my very soul. By nature I am a very impatient person and Hallie was sent here to remedy that fault. If she isn’t hiding in a closet eating her brother’s candy in the dark then she’s taking the scissors to a client’s 70-dollar-a-yard fabric. I have cried, I have prayed, and still she seems to get the better of me nearly every day. I have even resorted to buying a parenting book—How to Talk So Your Kids will Listen. I have always said, if you need a book to parent, you are in real trouble. Well, we are in trouble.
As of late, Hallie has become a trash talker. She could go on Jerry Springer. She spits at us, whips us with her beloved blanky, and kicks innocent children until they fall down. When she is mad at me, which is several times a day, she screams at me, “You’re not my mama anymore!” I have been ignoring this heckling because frankly, I don’t care. The words don’t hurt, but the yelling is what I simply can’t stand. So today I pulled the plug on Hallie. I said to her, “Fine, I am not your Mama anymore just like you want. Cool! I don’t have to make your lunch now.” (As I am saying this I am making Ilene’s lunch.) She started sobbing, “Please make me lunch. You are my mama!” I held out.
As of late, Hallie has become a trash talker. She could go on Jerry Springer. She spits at us, whips us with her beloved blanky, and kicks innocent children until they fall down. When she is mad at me, which is several times a day, she screams at me, “You’re not my mama anymore!” I have been ignoring this heckling because frankly, I don’t care. The words don’t hurt, but the yelling is what I simply can’t stand. So today I pulled the plug on Hallie. I said to her, “Fine, I am not your Mama anymore just like you want. Cool! I don’t have to make your lunch now.” (As I am saying this I am making Ilene’s lunch.) She started sobbing, “Please make me lunch. You are my mama!” I held out.
A while later, she fell and hurt herself and wanted some consolation and a kiss. “Go find your Mama Hallie, she’ll kiss it and make it better. After all, you told me I am not your Mama.” Then the real wailing and gnashing of teeth began. “I don’t want a new mama! I don’t want her kisses! Please be my mama. I won’t ever say those mean words ever again! Please!” Do I believe the promise? No. But she did need to eat, so I had a talk with her, kissed her boo-boo, and made her lunch. As she is inhaling her peanut butter and honey sandwich (after all, lunch was delayed at least 20 minutes) she continues to reassure me, "I'll never say that again." Let’s see how long that trash talk subsides because that stupid parenting book hasn’t arrived yet from amazon.com and I am out of ideas. Legal ones, anyway.
