Well, we made it through the 5 days of Zithromax without puking. But, boy is she ‘off’ –she woke up this morning on the wrong side of the bed, which was on the wrong side of the room, which was on the wrong side of the house on the wrong side of the street on the wrong side of the railroad tracks (we really do have RR tracks nearby) on the wrong side of the Adirondack park, and on the wrong side of the country. She was livid over everything. It took a good 2 hours for her to join the world as a reasonable person, and even after that the slightest setback would trigger a HUGE meltdown. And the setbacks were not setbacks, really. She would ask for something, and I would say yes, just let me do x, y, or z, and that would translate as the most unfair thing ever to happen to anyone in the whole world. It took every single ounce of my patience to not snap. But, I have figured out how to do the whole time out discipline thing, to make it effective and yet not a torture session. Ok, ‘figured out’ is a bit strong. I have a new method that appears to make an impact on her behavior, at least for today. Basically, it involves sitting with her while she is in time out. She still screams and hollers and kicks but then she calms down and crawls into my lap with what appears to be genuine remorse. Before, she would come out of her room and say “SOOOOOORRRRRRYYYY MOOOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” which was pretty clearly not remorseful. We’ll see. She is really testing. She was drinking milk the other day, at her request, when out of the blue she snapped “I…DON’T…LIKE…MILK!” and dumped it out with a flourish all over the floor. Then she looked at me, waiting for the reaction. What is Mom going to say this time??? All I said was “Please go get a towel and clean up your mess.” She refused, and I repeated the request. She refused, and I repeated the request. And so on. A half hour later, guess who won? Mom. It takes SO MUCH patience to wait that stuff out.

But then coupled with all of this crazy boundary testing is some of the funniest, sweetest stuff. As well as some very needy stuff. I know that she would spend the day curled up in my lap if I let her, and it is hard that I have so little time to do that. I try very hard not to let a lot of time go by without a cuddle, but sometimes it is hard. The last few weeks have been characterized by so much separation anxiety. At all of her little classes—tumbling, swimming, and dance, she has been less than enthusiastic, and even last night she quit halfway through swimming, sort of curling up on the side of the pool, asking to get out. Poor thing. And yet, we will get home and she will go nuts, running around the house like a balloon that has just been let go. I am so tempted to just stop the activities now that the weather is going to be a little bit nicer, and spent the time playing outside. We’ll see. I assume this will pass, but while we are in the midst of it, I would at least like to minimize her stress.

I have to say thank GOD for playdough though. I actually made it today. I finally tackled the world’s easiest recipe and made our own playdough. Prior to this point, there was no reason to do this, as making it did not interest her, and it would only mean taking time away from her to concoct something easily obtained at the store. However now she is into cooking and helping, so we did it at her little table, until it was time to cook it. Pretty cool, I have to say. The food coloring was a bit confusing for her, but once I mushed it in well enough, she got the idea. And then she spent a solid hour squeezing it through the little fun factory thingamajig, making pasta for everyone. And she was explicitly thankful. That was nice. Accomplishing happiness always feels good.

The other day it was beautiful out and we went to the Lake Clear School playground and the Petrova Elementary School playground, and she had such a good time. The Lake Clear playground was empty, and she had a blast. Carter was asleep in the car, and we were able to really play. We ran around in the field, we did all of the playground stuff, and she is finally able to tackle the big girl swings—she probably was before, save for my nerves, but now she is really secure on them. When Carter woke up I brought him to the grass and let him play, but he immediately started shoving fistfuls of brown grass in his mouth, looking like a little frog eating a grasshopper or something—with all those legs sticking out, and I had to pick him up. He still does not care if it tastes bad or not. If it fits, in it goes. We then went to Petrova, where there were a lot more people, and when I asked Ava if she wanted help on a piece of equipment, she said no, she wanted a little girl to help her. She then went and recruited a 5 year-old girl named Abby, and they went up together. For all of her separation anxiety, when she wants to make a friend, she can do it well. And she knows that targeting the 5 year-olds is smart. Not only do they know the ropes, they are totally into playing “mommy” and are more than happy to have a little kid hanging out with them.

Carter is on a sleeping strike as of yesterday. I think he is so intent on learning how to crawl and how to use his pincer grasp (though fistfuls of cheerios is perfectly acceptable to him…why work on getting just one between forefinger and thumb when you can get 6 all at once?) that he is even working on them in his sleep. He also has a wicked diaper rash, one that Ava never had. It looks awful, but so far does not appear to be painful. If he would just stop peeing at night and start peeing during the day, it would be a lot more manageable. I try to get up and change him, but it is all just a blur. His attitude is so great though. He just sits in his highchair and eats cheerios and chatters away at me. He is SO close to crawling—he just about has the alternating hands and knees, but still does not have the strength to pick up one arm and balance on the other. But, I have to give him credit—he never face plants.