Actually the title’s an exaggeration. I decried no Nintendo except on weekends (in an amount and at times to be determined by me) and asked my babysitter to impose something similar when they’re with her (often at her house, with her kids) and she went with maybe when they’re there in the evenings. So far, so good–we’ve had more outdoor play, more make-believe and more card-playing and puzzles already. It’s a relief to me just not to have to constantly be deciding and explaining, I made a rule and there it is. Thanks for the idea! 

Rory had a massive temper tantrum last night and got sent to bed without books (she threw a crayon at me). She was hysterical (and grabbed the skin on my arm and twisted it like a pinch, but didn’t really do it), but went to sleep with the others–and then, an hour later, woke herself up with a rip-roaring additional sleep-tantrum. Screams, kicks and sobs all over the place. I don’t know if it was left-over from the earlier tantrum, or an all new special bonus, or reaction from having scared herself with how mad she was at me (which others of our kids have done, too). The words she managed, though, were “I DON’T WANT YOU.”

Well, ok. I went downstairs, leaving her sobbing on the chair on the landing, but not happy. Rob had to nudge me a little, I admit–but I went back up, and sat, near her but not too near and the sobs abated, and I thought she was kind of sleeping, and I pulled her into my lap. She protested, a little, and kept gulping, little unhappy sobs. I didn’t know what it was, or what to do. 

“I was really mad at you earlier,” I whispered to the top of her head, and the sobs increased. “But I still love you. And you were really mad at me, and I know you still love me.” Escalating sobs. “And that’s ok.” The sobs dies down, and she hugged my arm in this way she has–she can be timid with her physical affection, with me at least–probably because I am too often not very snuggly with her except at bedtime, for reading (or with anyone. Working on it.) That’s more words than I’d usually use with Rory–I find that too many words just wash right over her head–but it seemed to work, so I tried another. “I was mad at Lily earlier, too. “(Lily went to her room for a big long time due to various dinnertime transgressions.) “But I still love her.” No sobs–so she wasn’t just sobbing because I was talking to her, which she sometimes does–just a little sigh, and more snuggle, and then I held her until she fell asleep.

She’s been unusually clingy today, too. Again–reaction? Sleepiness? Coming down with something? Your guess is as good as mine. I just accepted it, for now.

Maybe she just misses her Nintendo.