Freedom

Yes, I realize now, making this blog private is giving me all kinds of freedom. Sure, I don't have 150 hits a day anymore, but I also don't have to worry about offending random people who wander in. Like how apparently my clutterpartment posts were offensive to hoarders...I'm supposed to be gentler. Holy hell ladies, it was how I FELT. Point of the blog. Don't internalize it like that...it was all about my MIL nailing me with all her shit. It wasn't about being apalled by your apartment. For crapsake, I don't care if your apartment looks like that, I'll even come to visit. But that was supposed to be MY HOME. It wasn't even MY stuff! I didn't like that! So sue me. I don't recall ever actually insulting YOU.

Anyway...just an example.

I can now be the biggest fucking whiny PMSy bitchwoman on the face of the earth. And nobody but my little group of favorites will know about it. (Hi little group of favorites, love ya! You were the only folk who ever left me comments anyway!)

So, well, I get to tell you sensitive things that would get me crucified on MDC. Like *I HATE MY TODDLER RIGHT NOW*. She is worlds of demanding the last couple of days. She tanked the math unit I was trying to do with Becca, kept running over and jumping on her manipulatives (no matter how much fun the alternate activity I gave her was). And goddamnit, I was so mad at her. SO mad. She is a toddler! You aren't SUPPOSED to be *that* kind of *mad* at a toddler! You're supposed to do happy little hippie things like redirect, redirect, redirect, give her the attention she wants, blah, blah, blah. I just wanted to stick her in a baby cage and throw her a cookie and be over with it. But alas, good AP parent that I am, I own no such baby cage (she could probably escape it anyway, monkey child that she is).

And this morning I find myself resenting her. Of COURSE I love her. But I want her to dissappear for a day. I'm just upset with how much of my attention she demands. I told Fran last night and he said "I'm sorry, it's my fault." WTF? And HOW is it fucking YOUR fault? He apparently has decided that because he had given her a TON of one-on-one time last week (he didn't have any projects...just played with the kids all week), she's stepped up what she believes the baseline acceptable is. He showed me an example. He dumped some of the unfolded laundry onto the bed, and she started throwing it around. He called her over and showed her how to fold underwear. She happily folded underwear with him as long as he stood there folding with her and talking to her and praising her. But the SECOND he stopped paying 100% attention to her she started throwing the clothing around again. Like *snap* she's the whirlwind troublechild again.

It was a fun little exercise because:

1) OK, now I know that she isn't just a freaking out-of-control hellchild entirely and irreversibly by nature.
2) I can't give her that kind of attention anyway, so it was pretty pointless. I mean, sure, I can direct her to an activity, but if she'll only do it while I'm with her, it is pointless. I can't give her something to do and go work with Becca. There are a lot of activities in this house that I can involve her in (I've heard of this kind of child before and always thought gloatingly "DAMN I'm glad not to have one." FUCKING KARMA), but also a ton that I simply can't. At some point I need her to do her own thing so that Becca can be doing her school work and I can be doing MY school work and she can be, well, somewhere other than ripping the skins off the pockets in the DVD folder or tearing apart books or seeing whether her stuffed animals will float in the (scummy because I'm soaking pots in it) sink or climbing on top of the woodstove to hurl pieces of banana at the TV (that was...fun...to clean up).

I hate my toddler right now :(.

I don't like hating my todder, but there you are. She's driving me fucking bonkers.