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Ten Pounds Ago

It was one of those afternoons. Babysitter’s car got stuck in the driveway, had to threaten to send Sam’s friend home if they didn’t do their homework as promised, forgot to make the pizza dough for dinner (but silver lining: check out this no-rise pizza dough recipe link to follow). Make-your own pizzas for five in a freshly cleaned kitchen…dumb idea. I was edgy. (http://amysfinerthings.com/no-rise-pizza-crust)

More than that, it had been a natter, natter natter afternoon. Take that in the playroom. Don’t bounce that ball out here. Don’t draw on that. Stop that. Leave the dog alone. Give that back. Not on the stairs. Turn that down. Go in the playroom. Go in the playroom. Go in the PLAYROOM.

Mostly directed at Lily, who was annoyed that Sam had a friend over and she didn’t, and Rory, who sometimes seems to feel that if no one is talking to her, even if she doesn’t like what they’re saying, she doesn’t exist. I sniped at her so much I ended up letting an entire session of dog torture pass without comment, just so I could ease up.

And then, bedtime. Books for Rory and Wyatt, and Rory, as always, won’t hold still, can’t hold still. But I held my tongue, although I did angle the book so that she couldn’t see it where she was dancing around on the mini jungle gym that’s in their room, hoping she’d stop. Nope. Then the usual appearance of the dog, the usual declaration by me that I won’t read if she can’t stop chasing said dog and her not unusual decision to skip the book and go outside the room and chase the dog. But she hesitated, and Wyatt, shutting the dog out, scraped her foot with the door.

I got a bandaid. I put it on. I held her in my lap for reading and tucked her into her bed–only to have her emerge, screaming like a hysterical banshee, the kind of noise most people wouldn’t–couldn’t–make unless you actually cut off one of their fingers.

The bandaid had fallen off.

I rushed over and acted like someone had at least cut her finger. Big fuss. Rush to the bathroom. TWO bandaids. Big, long snuggle. Singing. Carrying her up. Tucking her in. Whole nine yards.

I just wish I’d had it in my heart to do this when she weighed ten pounds less.


3 Responses to “Ten Pounds Ago”

  1. Trena says:

    And if we keep picking them up every day will we be able to always pick them up???
    My back bets not ;O

  2. Ninotchka says:

    How funny. The post title caught my attention. I always measure time in [my] weight. lol And speaking of heavy children. I was just thinking about Anna Sofia and how she is about to break my back. She insists on riding “piggy” (piggy back) to and from the car. For me that means nearly 60 lb of child on my back down and up the garage stairs. My quads are bulking up quite nicely!

  3. Tricia says:

    “Stop That”. If there is one phrase I wish I never, ever had to utter again, it would be that one. Not looking like it is going away any time soon, though!

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