plans foiled by snow
We had quite the weekend. I had all three days off, and it started off on a sour note when the teacher told me that M was uncooperative and disruptive that day, and had to be removed from the classroom when a guest storyteller came. I’m thinking, well duh, my two-year-old isn’t going to sit still for a story in the middle of a class full of her friends and activities! Isn’t that the point of Montessori, that they aren’t forced to be stationary or “sitting” if they don’t want to? I’m sure the teachers tried to engage her in a different, but quiet-ish, activity but she was probably revved up by their frustration and the expectations that she simply couldn’t meet.
Times like these I actually consider pulling her out of school altogether, but I don’t because then she would be at home with my mom all day when I work.
Anyway, we met with my dad who came to town last minute, at a restaurant. This is a recipe for disaster, as restaurants are usually the last place M wants to be. She did pretty well, though, but apparently my dad and his wife didn’t think so. They gave me a hug at the end and said, “hang in there, it’ll get better” and such things. I was like, “what are you talking about? You thought she was that bad??”
We had a rough couple hours at home, meaning I was yelling (which is never something that makes me feel good) and she was being wild and destructive. I ended up packing us up to go to the local Christmas parade anyway, and she was sort of good, but had some rough (wild, abusive) patches, too. I know that people see her being wild and impulsive and not listening and think all kinds of things about her, about my parenting, etc. I’ve got to learn to care less about all of that and just parent as I would if no one was there! (Some parents need to parent as if the world was watching, but that’s a whole ‘nother post.)
Saturday was a bit better, but not much. It started with a ton of snow. And it ended with even more snow. Our plans to do anything were scrapped after I slid into a ditch a mile from home on our way to gymnastics. (We were rescued quickly and we were fine.) Then my grandma’s caregiver ended up in a ditch, so I bundled up the child who refuses to wear clothes (and she threw a fit with each layer, gloves and hat and snowpants and boots and coat) and trudged up the hill in knee-high snow to get them dinner and help them to bed. My 40-lb toddler refused to walk in the snow, so I had to carry her. Uphill. In knee-high snow. With her howling and arching her back the whole way. Repeat this scenario when we finally went home several hours later.
She was very excited to go “help Gigi” (as I kept telling her, “come on! put the coat on! we have to go help Gigi!”). The second we got into my grandma’s house, she grabbed her hand and said, “Gigi! I’m here! I help you!” and started pulling her out of bed. So adorable.
Sunday we were still snowed in, waiting for a plow. That is, until I took a shovel and did my best with the car myself. As we hit the main road, I was jubilant. We’re freeeeee! We did a few shopping errands, and both felt much better that we had escaped our house arrest. M finds the snow interesting, but I don’t think she “likes” it, really. We’ll try to do a few fun things in it this winter, like sledding and building a snowman, but for the first snow? It was just a royal pain in the ass! We didn’t get to the science center to see the dinosaur exhibit.
My old cat, Cleo, ran outside the night before the snow. When she wasn’t back the next day I figured she was hiding. Saturday night I heard her crying, but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I went through every closet and cupboard, and then she stopped crying. The next morning I heard her again, under the floor boards of M’s room! I was able to get someone to come help me access the crawl space, and we caught her. She was freezing and starving… my cat who was always labeled “obese” at the vet, is now skin and bones. But she was curled up on my bed, purring and eating happily, so I see no reason to take her to the vet right now. She’s 14 years old, all I want is for her to be happy and comfortable.
P.S. We have dairy back again! She had no difference in behavior, sleep, bowel movements, etc. I added cheese and yogurt back and nothing happened. So we now have milk just for cereal, and no more night time bottles.