It wasn't a great weekend. Sadly. It had potential, but ended up being kind of crappy all the way around. Suffice it to say that understanding your family, the one that you were born into as opposed to the one that you are creating as an adult, is really not all that much fun. And being a stepmother can be, at times, an incredibly thankless, frustrating position - and this was not a weekend that I particularly enjoyed either activity.
In other news... it turns out that Julianna has mastered not only the backwards crawl, but also the soldier shimmy. It's fascinating - because her every move is so anticipated. People say that it's the first baby that gets all the attention - but in reality, it's the youngest, because you have so many other kids. She's so close to actually taking off crawling - and one of the kids keeps hollering "She's gonna do it" and we all come running to stare at her reaching and reaching for a toy just out of her reach. So far, she hasn't done it, but I expect it any day now.
Miss Jessica Mary accused me of child abuse earlier today. "It's just mean, it's child abuse, to take away your child's most precious possession!" she tearfully proclaimed from behind the clothes hanging in her closet. My girl has serious problems controlling her emotions, and has been sobbing uncontrollably over the most ridiculous of things (earlier today, for example, she sobbed because I didn't understand how much she hates toast crusts). I had warned her several times that if she didn't calm herself down, I was going to take her radio (a fate worse than death). She didn't - and I did - and you'd have thought that I hit her with a stick. Repeatedly. She was sobbing, out of breath and begging me not to do it, but I mercilessly unplugged it and plopped it on my dresser. After about twenty minutes, I went in, and very calmly explained that if she wanted it back, she had to apologize to both her father and to me, and then earn it back by cleaning the kitchen. She did it, and after that, she was angelic for the rest of the night. Reminding me that the best way to get good behavior is to hard core crack down on bad behavior. When the consequences are clear, and enforced - kids just behave better.
But it's still a little disconcerting to have your child hate you as much as she did at that moment.
Sam is still my angel boy - Marc played some sort of lego game today with the kids, and I was half heartedly participating while bouncing Julianna, setting the table and cooking dinner. And Sam willingly sacrificed his guy to save my guy. Nobody loves me like Sam does. Seriously - the love of a little boy for his mama is boundless. And endlessly pure - he just flat out adores me, with none of the angst that Jessie brims over with these days :-).