Today has been one of those days that makes me question how exactly I got here. And I don't mean in the "big scheme of things" kind of way, but rather, "how exactly did I get to the point that a three-year old could make me cry?"
Yes, you read that right. A three-year old made me cry. An event that has pretty much tested my last nerve.
So, remember how I mentioned that Dizzle LOVES preschool so much that she wants to live there? Well, I learned today that she wasn't kidding. After a quiet, yet rather exciting morning (thanks to Stroller Strides' mom, JT, who in an amazing gesture of generosity, gave me the ultrasound package she won at Fall into Fitness), I went to pick up Dizzle from school. Knowing that I would be greeted with a hug and then I fight, I went in prepared. Or so I thought.
Within two seconds of telling Dizzle it was time to go, she started shouting, "I don't like you. I don't love you. I'm not going with you. I'm staying here." At that point I was just praying that the other kids were being loud enough to drown out her cries. Anyway, after dragging her off to the car (literally, she wouldn't walk), she continued the "mom-bashing" in the car. For 15 minutes, I heard, "You're a mean mommy. I don't love you. I'm not going anywhere with you." OVER AND OVER AGAIN!!!
And that was all it took, I broke down into tears. In fact, just rereading it has got me crying again. OK, so I know I'm super-charged emotional pregnant lady right now. And I know she didn't really mean it. She was just angry. But that's not much of a consolation at this moment. She may not have meant it, but I KNOW she knew what she was saying. Last time I checked, Dizzle was well aware that there is a difference between, "I love you" and "I don't love you." She's a smart girl.
Once we got home, I gave Dizzle the ultimate punishment. A nap. The first one since she was 18 months old. And you really would have thought that I chopped her arm off. (she's quiet. not sleeping.)
So, now I'm sitting here questioning whether or not I'm ever taking Dizzle back to school. I know she loves it. And Doodle and I enjoy our "alone time." But the fights (which occur if we are the first, or last people to leave) are more than I can handle and honestly, are not worth it to me. I really can't imagine being seven, eight, nine months pregnant trying to manhandle Dizzle off of school property with Doodle in the other hand. It's just not going to work.
Any bright ideas of how I'm going to make this preschool thing happen? Oh ... and don't tell me, "she'll grow out of it." It's been over two year that I've been having the same battle when we try to leave the playground ...