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| Look at us. In happier days. Loving each other. |
She is impossible.
If I ask her to do something, she does the opposite.
If I say stop, she keeps doing it.
This morning after an endless series of run ins between us, I said it was time to go to school, NOW. Did she run for her bag and the door? No, she ran for the felt tip pens. So she could write on the plywood 'Flowers in the Attic' wall on her way out.
Then she tried to hide them up her sleeves and sneak past me.
Then I exploded.
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| Cute. Appealing. Deceiving. |
She had to carry her own bag.
She was covered in dust down one side.
To the untrained eye, she looked pathetic and vulnerable.
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| Yes, very cute when asleep. |
I refused to hand hold. I walked so fast she couldn't catch me. She gave up and dragged behind, head down, pigtails bobbing, the picture of misery. No-one could refuse her.
A lady out on her morning walk overtook Josh and I and gave me a look that clearly said 'youterriblemotherhowcouldyouleavethatpoorchildtowalkalonewithabigbag'
I flipped her the bird. In my head.
Living with Issy is exhausting. From 6:01am when her eyes pop open until 7:01pm when she falls asleep on the couch during stories, she is relentless in her quest for...something.
She begins her first attempt to get into bed with me at 6:02, to be sent back to her own bed several times until I give up and let her climb in.
She will be quiet for maybe...30 seconds and it's really nice, then she starts asking when she can have breakfast.
By now it's maybe 6:13. We normally breakfast at 7 so as not to wake Sarah who sleeps in like a champion. The current dining table location is next to Sarah's room.
So in the intervening 47 minutes, I'm asked for breakfast about 24 times. And so on through the morning.
Constantly getting up from the breakfast table - check
Walk around eating her toast - check
Pouring too much cereal, milk, sugar into bowl, despite me saying hang on and I'll help. I'm never fast enough - check
Eating only half of enormous breakfast she's served herself then convincing me she's full - check
Return to ask for second breakfast after clean up because she mucked around so much she never actually ate anything - check
And it goes on:
Fighting with brother over prime cleaning teeth positions - check
Be found playing Barbie dolls in pyjamas 20 minutes after being sent to get dressed - check
Tell me I'm lazy because I've not finished making her lunch - check
Keep sneaking into sisters room to play with her stuff - check
Break brothers newly constructed Lego masterpiece - check
Insist on wearing tights and skivvy then constantly complain her neck is strangled and her legs itchy - check
This is just a sample. A tiny percentage.
As I'm writing this as I should be at dance pick up, but I'm delaying. Because I'm dreading seeing her again and the next fight I'm going to have with her. I'm beyond picking my battles. I'm ready to give her away.
I know it's a low point and it won't always be like this, but she's taken all my energy. I am empty.
