Like mother like daughter.

This afternoon we had one of those moments where SS's life before coming home played a greater role than we would have liked. Not because we want to negate that time, but because we have no factual information, just the remnants. We took advantage of the lack of rain and spent time outside. It was a bit cold and it was overcast, but we are going to have four days of rain, so outside in shorts and hoodies we went. We both had fun and then we set out to cook dinner. SS became whinny towards the end of our cooking, because it involved just Mama. I was returning some things to the fridge when I turned to remind her to be patient, totally missed the rack and dumped an almost full jar of olives on the floor.

Because I am all about safety, I cook barefoot, and usually SS is barefoot as well. I quickly looked and to my relief she had shoes on and was not in danger. I was in the middle of broken glass, and yucky olive juice. Yeah, that one was my own doing, but it got better. SS (a certified ice freak) thought a shard of glass was ice and in her best Ninja demo had it in her hand, and ready to pop in her mouth in a second. I needed to get her attention and quickly, so I used my stern voice to let her know she had to stop immediately. There was an instantaneous change in her look and demeanor. I got that look, the look she gets when she goes somewhere else. It was followed by shaking and tears, and I knew that quickly we would have a situation. I forgot about the glass beneath and went to hold her. I did get glass stuck on my foot, but did not notice until much later, and got it out even later. There was damage control to be done.

Once she calmed down some, I managed to clean the mess with her by my side (and flip flops on my feet), at times holding her. With JJ, raising my voice would not have brought upon so much drama, and using my stern voice would have stopped him without engaging in damage control. When P came home we were in the middle of escalating aggression from SS. I was so happy that he came home early. SS can easily tire a triathlete, and we are hardly athletically conditioned. We spent a few hours dealing with SS's rage. With SS we have to be very careful how we handle certain situations because her reactions have taught us that it isn't one freaking bit about us and now. Sometimes we get tired of fighting that ghost, sometimes we get angry at that ghost, but most of the time we simply accept that the ghost is here to stay. Without the ghost there would be no SS, and that is not an option for us, ever. We do the best we can flying blind, and disciplining our daughter is just more complicated. And yeah whatever, and eye rolls to anyone who thinks it is like raising any other child, we could not care less. There is quite a bit we are purposely leaving out, for obvious reasons.

But on to the lighter stuff of life. My little pack rat is apparently learning from the best, her Mama. My bio mother and I are polar opposites in every way. When she was here last October, she was very upset because one week after life saving surgery I did not even want to contemplate cleaning out my closets. Getting rid of unnecessary things, Abu's mission in life, was nowhere in my to do list. My lackadaisical attitude about clutter control is rubbing off on SS, the girl will soon surpass me, and that is no easy task. Every time I clean the van I am astounded by the crap in there. Maybe my kids will have immaculate cars, it's not in the stars for me. At least not while I have my toddler partner in crime.

Here she is practicing how to stuff her car to the max. I hate to admit it, but her dedication to clutter making makes me proud.

Doubting SS would not believe it when I told her the ball would simply not fit inside.

Then she decided to take her hat off, but it just had to remain with her, even though she still can't close the darn door. SS also had a sippy cup in the back cup holder.

Practicing parallel parking.