This Is Why All Our Easter Candy Is Up For Grabs At Brunch Tomorrow

Last night Berit stayed with Trevor's parents, "Mimi" and Grandpa. They live here in town so they see the girls often, and are adored. I decided to let Berit stay, even though I had planned to color eggs with the girls in the evening, because she is a great kid and just wanted to go have some one-on-one time with her grandparents. Fair.

Trevor's grandparents happen to be up visiting, staying with his parents as well, so we planned to spend the whole day today at their house to be with them, and celebrate Trevor's dad's birthday. 

I know that grandparents are supposed to give sweets under the table and spoil the kids incessantly, and my children reap these benefits from both sets of grandparents in their entirety. Which on one hand is fantastic, because they are so, so lucky to have lots of family that loves them so much. I didn't have this, and it's one of the most important things I stress in my kids' lives. 

On the other hand, it makes for a bitch of a day when they come home.

In this case, we went to Berit today instead of her coming home, and during the course of the day she had a full-blown, screaming, thrashing tantrum about BLOWING HER NOSE (after which Grandpa immediately scooped her up and gave her a chocolate-covered peanut and Mimi served up pint-sized cinnamon rolls); she called Mimi "Mommy" on purpose; ignored me when I told her I loved her until Mimi asked her to tell me she loved me back, after which she said, "I love you, Mimi;" and refused to speak to me on the telephone when I was driving around trying to let Marta get a decent nap. Later, when we were driving home, she said, "Mommy, I just want to go back to Mimi and Grandpa's house." 

I'm not one for crying, but I cried twice today, first because I missed her last night, as she dyed eggs at their house and found her basket there today instead of finding her basket at our house first (where we could see her raw excitement for this "new" kind of fun, and when she finds it here at our house tomorrow it won't be quite as important) and then she was rude and purposely unloving to me to boot, and a second time because even as we were driving to our house, talking about the fun brunch we'd have tomorrow and how the Easter Bunny would come to our house tonight, I still couldn't win. 

This may sound differently than I mean it to; I know it's not that she loves her grandparents more than she loves me, I know that grandparents are meant to spoil kids and I'm glad she has a good time there. I also know that she didn't mean to do anything hurtful, and that it was mostly the sugar talking (or not talking). I think it's just one of those times when you, the mom, tallies up all the stuff you've been bending over backwards to help your child do or achieve or feel lately and you realize that your child is THREE and will never, ever come up to you and thank you for staying up late fixing the Littlest Pet Shop Playhouse, for corralling the baby in the church area of her school for an hour just in case she gets weepy and needs a hug while she's in class, for triple-washing the bathtub, for letting her wear every single piece of jewelry you own, or for thinking about her happiness, health and immune system during 97% of your day. 

I know this is silly. I don't know how to end this post. I think, instead of sitting here thinking of something heartwarming and optimistic to close with, I'm just going to call it a vent between moms and go chop vegetables for the brunch. 

Small Victories

I'm watching Marta happily tear apart a Dora the Explorer book in her crib, because I will let her do anything today to help her forget that she has a hacking, rumbling cough that occasionally makes her throw up with its intensity. (Should I be consulting a doctor about this? I truly have no idea.)

Yesterday, when she was only showing signs of a slight runny nose, I took Berit to Target and the carousel at the mall in Traverse City, and we spent the entire day (driving) shopping, leaving Trevor to deal with naps and baby-rearing in general. He's only put Marta down for a nap once before, when she was exhausted and would have done just about anything for a crib to sleep in. Yesterday was an experiment to see if I could leave, and it worked, and even better, Trevor is now compulsively saying magical things like, "She's literally the smartest baby in the world," and "She talks like a person. A real person!" Of course I know these things. It's quite another thing when someone else recognizes them, and says them out loud, repeatedly. 

Now that Marta has calmed down for her nap, I'm off to sort the Easter toys and candy that I hid under my bed last night before the kids could see them. While at Target I picked up a little Swiper action figure for Marta's Easter basket (Swiper is the sneaky fox from Dora the Explorer whose catchphrase is "Oh, Man!", for those of you not in the know), and I'm so pleased I did because while we were on a walk last night she was singing, "D-D-D-Dora, o-o-o-o-o-o-man."