Drama Queen

Something happens to a kid when they get to be about three and a half...at least in our house. For Lachlan, she turned on the drama in the form of Kindergarten angst. Basically, at any given hour she can act like she's on her period for several hours or several days. She pouts, cries, gets sullen faced...you really can't tell what's going to bring it on. This morning she laid on her bedroom floor and cried like I'd asked her to leave her true love--why? Cause I told her that she needed to make her bed before she got dressed. Last week, I caught her slamming her baby into her timeout chair and yelling, "you are a stupid dad!" Why? Cause he told her that she couldn't blow a loud whistle in the house.

I used to think that it was a girl-thing...that it would just ratchet up a notch when she turned twelve. Well, I was wrong.

Jack has proved himself to be something of a "lover of the arts" as well. For the past couple of weeks, if he gets so much as a rug burn or a large feather passes over a body part he will scream like he's had an arm cut off in a tractor PTO shaft. The shock of the cry has been so overwhelming that I've been known to come running from the basement (which seriously, I NEVER do)--only to find that he stubbed his toe on an imaginary pebble. It goes without saying that the kid can suddenly give Sally Field a run for her "waterworks" money.

Que Tchaikovsky's theme for "Peter and the Wolf"-- let it be told that I will only run up the stairs from the basement so many times before I just start yelling, "quit yer bawling".

Last week Jack's cries for help went unheeded for hours because I just didn't believe him. When I finally did look him in the face I noticed that he had a goose-egg on his eye. We put some ice on it, but by then, the damage had been done.

What kind of mother says something like, "it's your own fault." ??

This one. That's who.