When we returned home from our walk I started to fill up SS's pool. P arrived home for lunch a few minutes after us, and we all went inside. SS had a fit about this. She kept pointing to the door and would cry, saying "pool." I wanted to wait a while for the water to warm up a little (it's really hot here), and this set the tone for our afternoon.
SS slipped a few times, and I, of course, was right there to pick her up. But worrier that I am, I became concerned about dry drowning . Never mind that P has assured me that it is rare, and it would take a lot of water. Since I was placed on this earth for the sole purpose of worrying, I decided to do something about my irrational fear. I remembered the forbidden floatie that was in the van and went to get it. Hey, don't judge me, P does plenty of things that are no nos. Just my luck that SS was afraid of it. I then tried her PFD, what better way to keep her safe. SS slipped and landed on her back. The PFD did its job and kept her floating with her head safely above water. SS is most definitely our child, and was not pleased about the simple solution to drowning. She was furious that she was floating, when she clearly prefers being underwater. She cried, loud and angry. Oh well, too bad, my rules. SS began to take off her PFD and I gave her a firm, "If you want to be inside the pool, you must wear your PFD." Again, that thing about not negotiating with tiny terr0rists. SS stopped crying, but appeared truly scared of being in the pool. Not wanting to ruin her water baby status, I pulled her out, stripped her and brought her inside. SS took a power nap and woke up in the whiniest mood ever.
SS is an amazing whiner, capable of bringing hardened criminals to their knees with her whining. I usually deal well with her, but today I was in a zero tolerance mood for whining. SS wanted to get in the pool, fine, with a PFD. SS cried as though the PFD was ripping off her limbs. She became all clingy and demanded to be on my lap. UGH! I tried getting in with her, but that did not help. P called me to ask me if I needed him to pick up anything from the market. Poor guy and his lousy timing. SS was pi$$ed that I got her out and was screaming. I snapped at him saying that I could not talk, as I was about to murder our daughter (kidding, really kidding). I can be such an awful mother and wife. I have my own car, plenty of time, the guy is trying to be nice, and I bite his head off.
After terminating the call, I practiced some tough love with SS. When she started the panicking over a car bit, I told her she could hang on to me, but no clawing her way on top of me. After a while, she got the picture and stopped her crying and whining. I called P to apologize, but he was on his way home to save SS from her evil mother. It's OK for him to leave early, as he works overtime almost daily. I told him that SS calmed down and to take it easy.
My now calm and back to sweet SS said "pool," and climbed in by herself. OK, earlier, she needed my help. SS proceeded to kneel on the pool, with water up to her tender neck. If that wasn't enough to turn the rest of my hair gray, SS sat down. This was hilarious to SS, but not funny to me, at all.
Look tiny agent of mass destruction (that is you SS), I think it is very noble that you are worried about the world being over populated. But think about this, if you get rid of us, who's going to reach the top shelves for you? HAH!
When P arrived home I told him it was all his fault, for teaching her to be comfortable in water. Oh yeah, I was on a roll. I cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen and am currently giving myself a time out.