wounded

Gracie has had an interesting weekend. With that I shall begin another edition of ( insert suspenseful music here) Life according to Gracie.

Well the weekend started innocently enough, this things usually do start that way. Gracie was 'wallering' me on the couch. Yes, before you ask, she does use the word 'wallering'. She asks for permission to 'waller' before engaging in the activity. 'Wallering' usually consists of a piggy back ride or three and her being tossed about like a rag doll. Tipping the scales these days at a solid 38 pounds, this isnt as easy as it used to be. ( just a quick side note, she now gets on the scale and asks what the number is as she now associates it with weight. She used to get on the scale and ask us to check her feet. I love that she is growing up and growing wiser, but I miss the innocents of some of the sillier things) Anyway, after a while of 'wallering' she managed to catch the top of her foot on my sharp and un-manscaped big toe nail. I left about a 2 inch long scrap across the top of those dainty little feet from the orient. She didnt blink or cry or react at all for about 3 minutes. Then she started to rub her wound. After rubbing the wound she looked down and it had begun to bleed. Not the kind of blood that runs out of a cut mind you, just the surface scratch kind were the blood isn't even wet to the touch. But, Gracie has a wound fetish. Any blood, no matter how big or how small requires the immediate application of a band aid. Her obsessive nature kicked into hyper drive right here and she searched the entire house top to bottom in search of a band aid. None was to be found, but this did not relieve the immediate and desperate need to apply one on this wound, one was needed with the greatest of urgency. So, since I had caused the wound, it was my job as the dutiful daddy to accommodate the need. I dispatched the wounded soldier to the first aid package that we keep under the bathroom sink. When she tromped back down the steps ( mind you this is the 5th time she has been up and down the steps in this escapade) I sit her on the couch next to me. I then retrieve a 4" by 4" gauze pad from the package and place on the still not really bleeding wound. I then take an ace bandage from the pack and wrap her entire foot, ankle and half way up to her knee in the bandage. At first this makes her happy, but that soon passes. Her mother and I begin to tease her about the seriousness of the wound and how if it doesn't heal properly we might have to remove the foot just below the knee. She snuggles up under moms arm and burst into tears. Okay, dad forgot you don't joke with the sensitive child. ( and Gracie is the sensitive child, no question) I explain that I was just kidding, at her request I removed the bandage and life went on with her no worse for wear. This is only Friday, its going to be a long weekend.

Next we have a trip to Kentucky. We have a 50th wedding anniversary to attend. We haven't seen most of these people in a good while so Gracie is a little clingy. Mom is moving around a lot because it is her family and she wants to visit, thus Gracie attaches herself to me. This is fine as far as I am concerned. Gracie felt pretty bold that night because she was sitting in my lap and felt safe from the commotion that was all around her. She felt bold enough to engage two different adversaries. First a young boy, 4 or so, who wanted to talk with Gracie and get to know her better. Nothing wrong with that. The boy kept getting closer to Gracie every time he would talk to her, that is pretty normal too. The last time he got about 1/2 inch from her nose to ask a question, Gracie turned to me and asked, " what does he want?" The voice was one of pure frustration on her part. I told her that he just wanted to know if she could read. He got his answer. One long diatribe about her being able to read sight words and sound out bigger words and she was almost done with kindergarten and she was ready to move on to big girl school which meant the 1st grade. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. Her head was a bobbin' enough to make Aunt Jemima dizzy. It was a full blown attitudinal response. For some reason they didn't talk to much after that.

A little while later in the evening her cousin sat down next to me and said something to Gracie. She said something that was making fun of Gracie (something about her having red from the strawberries on her teeth) Well aunt Fanny hold the phone, Gracie took off on her as well. She informed her that she had hurt her feelings not once but twice and that she didn't need to listen to her because she wasn't her boss and she didn't want to talk to her anymore. Yikes, Jr. Mao is on a roll this weekend.

Now we have the final event of the weekend. This time Gracie decided she wanted to be a big kid. She is not ready to take us on just yet, but she has been feeling her oats and wanted to test the waters to see just how stupid her parents really are. This story is about Gracie the 5 year old teenager. Only Gracie and me were feeling up to church this morning so the two of us got ready. Once Gracie was ready and dressed all purdy, she was sitting on the couch next to me. Mom had generously allowed her to take her purse to church with her this week and had supervised the contents of said purse. While sitting on the couch and swinging her feet like Edith Ann she made the tragic observance that she only had 3 of her 4 lip glosses in the purse. She asked if she could go upstairs and get the missing one. Both of her parents said no, not because it was a national security issue or anything, but just because these trips tend to be time consuming and pointless. Well, the obsessive nature reared its head once again. She was gonna blow if the item she felt belonged in its place was not in the place it belonged when she thought it belonged there. Poor Gracie has no adaptability at all. We also had a conversation about her not needing to take her sunglasses with her (which are a prized possession that she has a separate case to carry them with) because it was cloudy and she was wearing a head band that prevented her wearing them anyway. She then asked if she could go wash her face, she felt like she had milk on her face is what she said. Mom informed her that there was no milk. Dad, being the super plumber ninja dad that I am, intervened and said, sure honey, go wash her face, wash it good. I knew full well what her plan was but I was hoping she would either confess or abandon the mission. Oh, no, not this time. She was up and down the steps in 20 seconds. Oddly enough I never heard the water come on. She sat down the glasses case, but when I said it was time to get in the car, she picked them back up on the way out the door.

Now its daddy time::::

Once departing the driveway it was time to call her on it. I pointed out that she was going to have to work a lot harder to fool us, we know everything, we are parents. Mom has that third eye and all. (reference previous post for that story, its a hoot) She keeps saying sorry and promising to not do it ever again, but I keep explaining that the glasses and lip gloss are still in the car so nothing changed. I manage to keep her in tears all the way to church. The conversation progressed into me explaining that lying to parents requires discipline. This she understood and was okay with. What she was not okay with was I kept pushing the issue that I wanted her to pick what she felt fair discipline should be. My, I didn't realize how much kids hate that. This drove her nuts for a good 15 minutes. It also allowed me to totally control the storm and turn it off once we hit church. Upon arrival, all was well. We did church, came home, had lunch, had a nap, all went well. After nap, and game planning by both parents, it was time to launch the final assault. I got the pleasure of informing Gracie that her purse was house bound for the next week and it was going to sit in the living room just to remind her of what she had done and the lying was going to get her in trouble every time.

Goodness sakes alive. You would have though I had cut off her ears. I considered removing mine about then. She blew instantly. It was one of those cataclysmic big bang melt down things. She started wailing, jumping around in circles and trembling. Screaming that I was mean and she didn't want to hear my voice anymore. She told me ( 18 times, I counted) that she didn't like me anymore. Well, being the super hero that I am, I stayed calm and paddled through the deluge. About 25 minutes later, the storm ended just as abruptly as it began and she knows she screwed up. She said she would be really really really super good this week to get her purse back. I said we would work on it.

You need to understand one thing. Taking the purse is like asking her not to pee. She takes those things every place. She sits in her room and moves the 'purse items' from one to the other just because. This includes every piece of change she has confiscated. The purse and the sunglasses case are her prizes.

Isn't parenting fun?? !! ??

I am tired now, but Gracie is happy and well adjusted. I think it might be a while before she lies to us again. But, then again, who knows. Sooner or later she will be smart enough to out fox her parents. Most of us got to that point eventually. She is a long long way from there right now, and with her having older , wiser parents who got into more than their fair share of mischief, poor Gracie is going to have to work real hard at out foxing us.

Good luck my dear.