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Posts Tagged ‘messes’

Last night

I finished off the Christmas decorating… well almost, if I don’t write tomorrow, it’s because clumsy and clumsier(D1 will argue who is who, but I am definitely one of them) are putting up the outside lights today. Last year we managed only a broken hose wheel and a few bruises (She fell on me–and the hose wheel. The hose wheel got the worst of it.) But we will have lights, last year was the first year we had any and we loved the saggy baggy things.

This weekend, I’d planned to do a lot of cleaning. I’d expected only to have D4 but ex called to say he wasn’t picking up the kids and the parent of OB’s friend called to ask if her son could spend the night here: chickenpox in the house. *Sigh* So I stretched the spaghetti and changed my mindset from decorating in a quiet house to a very loud and full one.

OB and his friend were playing Wii, D2 watching  from the couch. D3 alternatively helping and harassing her brother. D4 was quiet, I should have known. Periodically I’d ask D3 to go check on her and she’d return with, ‘coloring’, or ‘reading.’  Bliss. I’m sure you know I was wrong or I wouldn’t be writing about it.

Around 7:30, I paused at the entrance to the den to take a look at the decorations. Beautiful. Then I noticed something dark under my desk. I went to investigate and found quite a few dark soft ringlets. Voice shaking, I called D4. Sure enough, she’d cut her hair to the scalp on both sides of her head. She looks like she has a mullet. I didn’t know whether to cry, laugh or scream. I very calmly sent her to her room so I wouldn’t do any of the mentioned.

After disposing of the beautiful ringlets, I went into her room and in my sternest voice let her know she was never to do that again. I also swatted her bum but as this is the second time,she’s cut her hair, I didn’t think a lecture would do the job. After hugs and kisses. I asked her where her clothes were (she had been bathed and in her jammies but when I called her about the hair, she showed up in her underwear) She looked guilty but I couldn’t see why until I took her into the bathroom to wash her face. Imagine the contents of a watercolor kit–the adult kind, not the kid kind– over the entire surface of your bathroom counter. Brilliant, bold color. Sure you can laugh and yes, it was very um artistic but I stood there, speechless. I took a deep breath, went into the laundry room, grabbed windex and paper towels and we cleaned it up together. Big brown eyes darting nervous looks in my direction every few seconds. I, meanwhile, am wondering what the hell to do. No, mothers don’t have all the answers, at least this one doesn’t. Also wondering if the fall she took earlier, she was running outside, tripped and hit her head on the sidewalk, had anything to do with her behavior but no, D4 has always been the creative, self-sufficient type, who loves to be doing something all the time so this is within character. So I sent her to her room, spoke to her sternly, gave her a hug, left and she promptly fell asleep. Why not? She’d had a busy day.

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