Not sure what to make of this morning. We went to the usual mass we always go to – but Cory didn’t have to take Chloe out of church to try and calm her down. Any time she started getting antsy he picked her up and rocker her and she just melted in his arms. This is not like Chloe. A cactus is more cuddly than she is because at least it doesn’t have limbs that flail around to make you fear for your life, nor does it have a body that is constantly on the go. She was still, which is normally not something she’s wired for. The first half of church, both girls did so well. Then the sibling rivalry came into play, over who had which crayons or hymnals.
We get home. Cory and Chloe go to watch football at his parents house. Ava took a long nap, thank goodness because she was a Grumpy McGrumperson. Had some company from my friend D and her daughter which was awesome. Cory gets home and tries to transport Chloe from the car to her bed while she was asleep – staying asleep during “the” transport never happens. Just like we suspected, she woke up. Which would mean to likelihood that the night would be smooth sailing wasn’t looking too good.
The girls went downstairs to play with Cory while he got the woodstove going. I started to get dinner ready. I hear Chloe start screaming. Cory casually walks upstairs with Ava. We exchange the “What, now?” look. He smiles and tells me she was trying to take Ava’s toy, so he gave it back to Ava which led to an infuriated Chloe. It’s so tough being three and a half when your main problems in life stem from refusing to share or needing a nap. So terrible. Ha. So she follows him up and calms down (so we think). A huge difficulty with her is that she may seem calm, but she’s still in volcano mode from whatever happened previously. It’s the calm before the storm. I fear for whoever breaks her heart in the future. Hell hath no fury. I tell her it’s time for dinner ( not sure why I even bother anymore) and she says, “Okay! I want chocolate!” Now, another one of the infuriating things with my oldest daughter who I love so dearly, is when it comes to her requests – you’d think these happen on a daily basis. When she is told no, she cannot deal and comes apart at the seams. I will tell you right now that I’m all for sweet treats (major sweet tooth) from time to time, but I have never given her chocolate for dinner. I tell her we aren’t having chocolate for dinner. Before I can finish my sentence – I get slammed with her one-of-a-kind, blood-curling scream paired with throwing herself down to the ground, demanding this chocolate she has on her mind. Meanwhile, Ava is happily eating her chop suey. Cory and I don’t even acknowledge this behavior anymore from Chloe. In fact, we move ourselves completely out of view so our very presence isn’t even satisfying her desire for attention. Sorry, sweetheart – that’s not how life works. Whoever thinks three year olds are babies and don’t know any better have a rude awakening.
We went to one of the bedrooms and locked the door. Chloe continued to throw her fit (along with her feet, hands, knees, head, etc.) into the door. Ava is still eating and at 16 months old, you can imagine how cute it is to see a chubby-faced, big eyed little girl say, “Uh-oh! What’s that?!” It was hard to muffle our comic relief. Finally, we hear, “Daddy, can I please come in with you?” The meltdown subsided. “Chloe? Is that you? I didn’t know where you went, of course you can come in!” Now, a lot of parents would be mortified that we ignored her, but if you have never had a child with behavioral issues with a possibility of other underlying issues, yet I have remained sane this whole time – I suggest you don’t judge our methods until you’ve been in our shoes.
We had a fairly low key rest of the evening. We got the girls to bed – and not surprisingly – around 2am, Chloe woke up yelling and crying. I was trying to finish editing some photo sessions and I know that if I stopped for too long I wouldn’t finish my work. Out on the couch she came with me. No matter how many times I ask, how I phrase or go about it – I never, ever get a response from her when I ask her why she’s scared. It is one of the worst feelings ever to not know why your kid is scared. She laid down next to me, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was fast asleep. As she sleeps there I stare at her face. Her angelic, beautiful face with fair skin and long lashes, bordered with her long blond hair. I am perplexed that a person just over three years old has had her parents running endless mental marathons trying to win the guessing race of what is going on in her head, and why she acts out the way she does. Well, tomorrow brings a new day of possibilities.