Firstly: Happy Birthday Dorlaine! We all send hugs and kisses to you!
Today was one of "those" days. I suspected it may be when Bub decided to start flopping on the ground when we arrived at therapy. I couldn't figure out why he was flopping. He just started flopping on the ground and laying there. He loves therapy, so maybe he was having a bad start of the day. But we didn't have any issues w/ behavior before we left...so who knows.
Then going to school from therapy, he began flopping again. It was getting old at this point. His therapist said it was a good session...no verbalizations, but lots of signing. So, again, who knows...
Finally, he got dropped off from school 1 hour earlier than normal. I suspect he was acting up on the bus, and the driver (bless her heart) said to herself, "hell no!" and left her normal route to drop him off with us as soon as she could. Just a guess tho.
So, he begins w/ wanting a new band-aid. He has no boo-boo's right now. His skin is completely intact EVERYWHERE (I gave him a bath last night, so I know). No bruises, no scratches, no scabs, nothing. He wants a band-aid. Momma's not playing this game today, so I say no, and shoosh him out of the bathroom. OOOOHHH the wailing i got out of him. Z started to join in. Bub decided he didn't like Z fussing when he is fussing, so he started to try to pick her up and dump her off in a different room. Yeah, Momma wasn't letting that happen either. So MORE fussing and wailing from both of them...and I'm TRYING to make them some kind of dinner cuz I know that is prolly THE root issue. So with them fussing, I go for quick, thinking I'll make the lamb shanks I got on special today later on for me and Joe once they are in bed.
I whip out a can of Bub-safe ravioli and while that's cooking, I cut up a mango and strawberries for their side dish. Z is totally happy w/ the prospect of dinner and dives in, with all her tomato-smeared-face glory.
Bub, decides to be contrary, and the ravioli is unacceptable. I am tired of this by now, and I decide today is the contest of wills. he will eat the ravioli, or he will go to bed.
Needless to say, after an hour of Joe and I "arguing" w/ him, he's in bed, unhappy, grumpy, and whiny. I have a headache, and Joe is going out to hang out with some guy friends of his. gee I wonder why...
Welcome to my world.