Enter Insanity

You know when I prayed for that baby who was so long in coming? So desperate was I for baby that I said that I wouldn't care if we had a brat.

You know when we named that same baby a moniker that has graced magazine covers and Paris runways, and I said it would suit a girl with attitude?

Gahhhhhhh!!!! It's freakin' payback time, now.

I'm all for my daughter being strong-willed, stubborn and assertive. I just wish that she had someone else to practice on.

We're going through a bit of a trying time with the little one lately. She seems to be happy calling all the shots, not being too keen to follow rules (unless she comes up with them herself), wanting everything her way and for her royal subjects to wait on her hand and foot. Princess syndrome, all day, 24/7.

She's been fortunate. Her big brother is fantastic to her. He's a really wonderful kid. And perhaps, therein lies the problem.

She knows this. She hears her parents talk about how wonderful he is; she hears her relatives tell their wonderboy stories; she hears her brother's friends parents mention how mature beyond his years he is … all about him, him, him. No wonder her current modus operandi is that any attention, no matter how garnered, is better than attention toward her brother. The more annoying she gets, the better. Things are particularly testy when she needs a nap.

Today was an especially spectacular example.

After a wonderful morning at school with further playtime at the playground with her classmates , we came home with her best pal to a fabulous lunch of hot dogs and toast with grapes on the side. The girlie had a couple of quick meltdowns which are par for the course, but after a half hour of watching "Flushed Away "with her buddy, we were off to their afternoon sport program. More play time, this time along with her other best friend in tow. Life shall we say, is sweet.

”Okay, time to drive your pal home, Mommy has to get gas for the car and rush back in time for big brother to be home.”

"No, I don’t want to go home. I want to stay at my friend’s.”, as we drove up her friend’s driveway.

“Well, not today sweetie. We have to arrange it with his Mommy. But I picked up some nice crafts that we can work on when we’re home.”, I said patiently while her pal bounded out of the car. I opened up her side of the van so she could say good-bye.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I WANNA GET OUT NOWWWWWWWWW!!!!”.

Screeching at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her red face, her arms and legs outstretched as she tried to bust out of her five-point harness ... she was truly a sight to behold. I couldn’t reason with her, so I just shut the van door to muffle her screams as I returned to the driver’s side. I got into the van, and reversed, with her screaming continuously ringing in my ear. All the while repeating that we had crafts and fun stuff to look forward to.

Then I looked at my rear view mirror and I saw her undoing her carseat buckle.

I cracked. I pulled over to the side of the road, opened her door, read her the riot act about how her behaviour was unacceptable as I tightened up her belt, shut the door yet again, muffling higher pitched screams, and then got back into the driver’s seat.

I was done listening to any more hysterics. So I did the only logical thing. Not even paying attention to what was on, I cranked up the radio to almost full volume…

Don't even know how the hell that showed up on my dial. But it was exhilarating, I wanted to just let loose with some good old-fashioned headbanging on my steering wheel.

In any case, it made the little old lady walking by with her little dog almost jump out of her skin.

And the girlie? Stupefied, within 30 seconds, her tears seemed to have dried up, her wailing stopped, and after I lowered the volume, we drove the two minutes to the gas station.

After pumping the gas, I got back in the car and her royal highness Princess G squeaked out...

"Uh, Mommy, can we go home and do crafts now?"

And with that, she promptly passed out on the way home.

Now THAT was an awesome lullaby.

Of family, friends and fate at the fair

So how was your weekend?

I'm happy to say that ours was pretty good. Our regular workout on Saturday AM, followed by dinner at friends; then a lovely Sunday with perfect weather for a fall fair. It took a bit of convincing to get our 8 year old teenager out of the house, but I told him, "We are going to have some family fun time and you ARE going to enjoy yourself." For some reason, Ian seemed to find that quite hilarious. I think what sealed the deal was that baby cousin J would be meeting us there, and she's always a huge draw for the kids.

First stop at the fair - the Dora and Diego meet and greet. Unfortunately we got there just as they closed the gates to actually shake their hands. But the girlie had fallen asleep in the car, so was groggily satisfied with the waves they gave her. Especially once she saw the pony rides.

The ponies were adorable. And lo and behold, taking place just adjacent for the boys' viewing pleasure -- pig races. The girlie's turn came up and I seated her comfortably on her little miniature pony. Once settled, I looked around for the keeper of my critical blog equipment (ie. camera). And there he was, his back to me, watching the pig races and hooting encouragingly at the pink little buggers while I was unsuccessfully trying to get his attention.

I called once. No response. I tried a second time with more urgency - nada. The Dad one pony over was watching me with a grin on his face as I tried a third time with a little more volume... and then a fourth. Nothing. The next-door Dad was now chuckling. Finally, as we were quickly in danger of missing a precious photo-op before we started the pony circuit, I pulled out my loudest gutteral hag voice and screamed "IAN!!!!" at the top of my lungs. He looked at me with the most annoyed "WTF" gaze, but it did the trick. A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

Check it:


The rest of the afternoon was spent observing award winning pigs, hens, roosters, rabbits, cows, sheep, goats ... and admiring baby chicks, piglets and the like. Then there were craft exhibits, magic shows, wild animal shows...fire-eating buskers, silver Elvis statues who could move. They had everything. We were trying to convince the boy that we should stay for the Monster Truck finale ... but it was getting close to dinner and he had homework to do. And the kids were tired. So we headed back to the car.

Unfortunately, we had to pass by the merry-go-round on the way to the exit.

"Hey, I want to go on the merry-go-round!!!! I want to go now!!!" from the thrasher-formerly- known-as-the-girlie in her stroller.

Ugh.

Off the Man went to pick up some tickets while the Boy whined about the unfairness of it all. Was this how the lovely day was going to end, in misery?

While trying to placate a writhing, tantrum-ing 3 year old, and making sure the 8 year old wasn't planning to track his father down, I peered across the sea of heads trying to ascertain which among them belonged to my husband. And out of the other corner of my eye, I saw this family, a tall blond fellow, with his wife and cute little blond boy in tow. Something was familiar about him and his boy, but it was the sight of his wife that struck me the most. She was gorgeous, her hair a brilliant shade of dark auburn shining in the late afternoon sunlight. And I said to myself, "I KNOW her!"

I yelled "Kelly!!" And she looked up at me, obviously puzzled because she'd never seen nor heard me before in real life. So this was likely as strange for her, as it was for me. (After all, I don't normally go around yelling at strangers, although I did spare her my gutteral hag version.)

"It's me, Karen" and I went up to her as if I'd known her all of my life.

Because this wasn't just any Kelly. This was the awesome Don Mills Diva. We've been trying to hook up for months now. With our husbands' work schedules being so busy, her starting a new job (and me too, for that matter) it was looking like we might not swing things until even later in the year.

But thanks to serendipity, we'll hopefully have that drink sooner rather than later.

And that was the perfect conclusion to our day at the fair.