- 172 calories
- 2g fat (0 sat fat)
- 31g carbohydrates
- 3g fiber
- 6g protein
- 4 Weight Watchers PlusPoints for those counting
Lizzy has been a pill all day. I said in my earlier post that she had been difficult at the store, but that does not begin to describe her behavior today. I know she's three and a half. I know she's a high-energy kid. I even know that I'm a little touchy today due to steroids-for-walking-pneumonia (yay! Last day!). But she was unreal today. She picked the top off a mole on my leg, making it bleed. She refused to stay in the play area at the store, although she'd been asking to go for more than a day. She refused to stay in the cart, and since she can now handle the buckles, she can't be reliably strapped in. When threatened with dire consequences for standing in the cart (no dessert for you! come back next year!), she proceeded to kick me and yell in her sister's ear. She was quiet(ish) for a couple hours after lunch because she had new movies for her rest time, but even then she climbed on a PC mid-tower, knocking herself and it to to the ground. After so-called "rest time" I brought out the bouncerine to try and get some of these wiggles out. No dice. Mostly because the dice - of which we have plenty - had been flung to the four corners of the earth.
So we sat down to dinner - cold roasted chicken, the aforementioned quinoa, a green salad, and milk; she seemed to settle a little. This was about 5:30PM. I finished my meal and went to start the dishes. I looked up and Herself is using her ranch dressing as hand lotion. And facial cream. And hair conditioner. She knows better than this. I yell at her ("Lizzy! You know better!") and strip her down to give her a bath. Of course, she's more of less coated in the stuff, and rinsing her hair is not the simplest task under the best of circumstances, but I manage to get her clean, get her hair washed, with a minimal amount of soap (or was it ranch dressing?) in her eyes.
I am angry by this point, so it's best if I just keep an ear on her and not be in the same room for a few minutes. So I'm outside the (open) bathroom door, puttering around with chores, and she's splashing and I know that if I go in I'll just get angrier, so I don't. Until Abby goes in for some other reason. And she's not splashing. She's dumping water out onto the floor in buckets (well, large plastic cups we use for hair-rinsing). This is at about 6:15PM. I go in, drain the water, put towels all over the floor, dry her off, put her jammies on her, comb her hair, and sit her down on the other end of the couch. No dessert. No bedtime chocolate milk. Stay right here on this couch and if you get off it or stand on it or god forbid jump on it, you are in so much trouble.
It's 6:35 when Abby and I get back in after taking out the garbage. Abby gets a Treasure Box pick for taking out the garbage (I went with because there was one she couldn't lift) and in part to show that good behavior gets rewarded as much as bad behavior gets punished (good call, honey).
At 6:42, Lizzy was out cold on the couch. Now, even at three-and-a-half, fatigue is not a good excuse for behaving like this. But it does make her behavior a little more understandable. This is why our mantra at Chez GamersBabes is, "Developmentally appropriate is not the same thing as socially appropriate".
And honey? Thanks for the chocolate. I need it tonight. I promise I'll only eat a couple.