BAD MAMA pt. 2

I am not one to spread things out and make them last longer. I am a 'DO IT ALL, DO IT NOW' kinda gal.

Why draw out the damage I do to my children when I can do it all in one day? I'm efficient if anything.

I started out being a good mama on Sunday. I took the girls to see Santa and get their picture with him. Yes, it's only the beginning of November but Santa is busy and has lots to do. Hush.

When we got home we were all getting out of the van and I shut the door on Vanessa's fingers! The door actually closed and locked. She screamed for me to open the door, I'm freaking out trying to get the door open as fast as possible. I got the door open, did a preliminary check of her fingers and we moved quickly inside. She is crying the whole time saying "I don't want to go to heaven! I don't want to go to heaven!" I try to calm her down and explain she will die from this, it's going to be okay. She didn't break any fingers. We got ice on them and I gave her Tylenol for pain. Through tears she says, "You should have been paying attention!". She was absolutely right. It broke my heart.

A few hours later, she was feeling much better. Her fingers weren't as bruised as I thought they might be, not even very swollen. That was good. She and Harley were in the playroom watching cartoons. They were playing rough and Harley hit/bumped/whatever Vanessa in the stomach. I brought them both out to explain that it was very dangerous to hit someone in the stomach. Harley, being 4, and being Harley, started repeating the same word over and over loudly and wasn't listening to me. I told her to go to her room. She wouldn't. I gave her swat and she went to her room.

Several minutes later, Harley comes down stairs with her backpack loaded up. She tells me she is leaving. I don't need her anymore, so she is going to leave. My heart broke again. I told her that I do too need her. Just because she got in trouble doesn't mean I don't love her or need her. She was insistent though. She had packed a change of underwear, a t-shirt, some toys. Then she went to the kitchen and got a pudding cup and a spoon, fork and butter knife. I reminded her it was dark out. She said she was going to "Mr. Ravioli's house." I asked who she was talking about. Our neighbor across the street is Raphael. She was going to his house but called him Mr. Ravioli instead of Mr. Raphael. I wonder why she thought he and his wife needed her and I didn't?

I called Tony at work and told him she was leaving and told her to tell her daddy good-bye. He suggested she sleep on it and we'd talk about it in the morning. She agreed. She slept with me last night.

This morning, she gave me a hug and said she would never leave me and she was wrong last night.

What a day.