Well, aren't we a bit behind??
So, I just realized that we did not take any pictures of Margot in her Halloween costume, because (wait for it....) I forgot my camera. We did have an nice time that weekend though, spent at Nana and Papa's house. Margot's favorite cousin Zoe came and spent the night on Friday and then we spent an extraordinary amount of time searching for pumpkins to carve and getting all glammed up. I was bucking for a cop this year and Ben was leaning toward ninja, but Margot wanted to be a princess for Halloween (I'll give you a moment to recover from the shock). She looked very pretty and sparkly. She got quite a bit of candy trick or treating, but we asked her if she was willing to trade the candy for a new toy and she was like "um, YEAH!" So she got a new toy and we did not have to deal with a maniacal, sugar loaded 4 year old. Everyone wins.
Since Halloween, we have been working on a few things around the house. Ben has applied for a new job (fingers crossed, k?) and Margot is still going to preschool three times a week. She has been doing a ton of drawing lately, and is getting really good! She likes to use the fancy feather plume pen we got her for her birthday and she draws all kinds of fruit, animals and stick people. This morning she busted into our bedroom and shoved a drawing of a firefly in my face. Although I felt like punching something for being woke up in this manner, I do have to give her props for drawing an awesome firefly.
So, I reached the pinnacle of my parenting career a few weeks ago when my sweet, beautiful child SPIT.IN.MY.FACE because I told her she had to put on a pair of pants. That's right - spit in my face. I don't think I need to point out that I spent the first seven years of my adult working life in a place where you beat the *fuck* out of someone if they spit in your face. I mean, really? Spitting? Hoo boy, was it hard not to slap that sweet little face! After I got over the initial shock, like, "Did I just have a stroke or did my kid SPIT on me?" kind of shock, I yelled at her "we do not spit" and put her in a time out. I proceeded to gather up her dress up shoes, crown, princess wand, necklace, pens, kitty meow meow, and anything else I could get my hands on and head for the trash can. It was ugly. She was howling, crying and begging for forgiveness. I couldn't help myself, I started crying right along with her. After we were both done sobbing, a long discussion ensued about how spitting is worse than hitting, anger management, making your mother go crazy, etc. It seemed to have worked pretty well. She did blow a raspberry at Ben a few days ago, but we are working through it. I gotta admit... I did NOT see this one coming. I had always felt very lucky that Margot never went through the biting stage and she has never been a hitter either, but this was just terrible.
Anyone have any naughty kid stories to share with mother of the year over here? No judging zone, I promise!!