it would be easier with an instruction manual

There are some days that really test you as a parent. Days where you can't help but put your head in your hands and cry. Days that your Mom will give you a hug for support and whisper, I'd like to tell you that it gets better, but it doesn't. Days that you're just happy to see the end of.

Last week Abby was having a hard time when it came to leaving the house. She didn't want to. At all. For anything. She has always really loved to go to the sitter's, but starting last week she would cry and refuse to get up or dressed. At five she is well past the point that I can easily pick her up and put her in the van in her jammies and let Lyn sort her out when she's feeling a bit more human like. Now at first I attributed the problem to Mike and I being on holidays the previous week. She had gotten used to sleeping in and having us around. Figured in a day or two she'd settle back down. Then it progressed to us leaving the house for anything. Last night she had a fit as we tried to get ready to meet our friends for dinner. Of course at the end of the night she didn't want to come home. Just like she doesn't want to come home from the sitter's house either. So she has a great time while we're out, it's just trying to get her out of the house.

Last night Auntie Yoli had asked if both girls would like to accompany her to a family birthday party. Abby answered yes right away and was very excited to go. She spent part of the morning drawing a picture as a gift to take with her. Comes time to get ready to actually leave the house and it all starts to fall apart. For starters she is in her play clothes and is absolutely refusing to get changed. Normally I try not to make a big stink about clothes, Abby has a pretty definite opinion about what she'd like to wear and I usually let it go, within reason, but folks there was no way she was going to a birthday party in a shirt liberally covered with marker swipes and pants that not only didn't match, but were more than a titch too small. Okay for kicking around the house, but not for going out. She was even welcome to pick out a new outfit herself. I was basically just requesting something that fit and was clean. That's when the crying began which quickly escalated to screaming.

I. DON'T. WANT. TO. LEAVE!!

I tried to calmly work out with her exactly what the problem was, but that train was going nowhere fast. So I decided to give her what she'd asked for and Mike called Auntie Yoli and canceled the plans. Well if I thought it was rough going before, that was nothing compared to what was to come once she heard she wasn't going anywhere with Auntie Yoli. Hysterical would be a fair assessment. I tried all the tricks in my arsenal; I sat with her, I attempted to "talk her down", I let lay with her while she cried, I left the room, I came back in, nothing was working on this situation. There was door slamming (her), yelling & screaming (her), crying (her and I and Maya, but I think that's because everyone else was), coughing (her), almost vomiting (her) and so on. I'm sure you get the idea. I thought I was handling it pretty well. Just riding out the storm, trying to anticipate what she needed from me. Then after leaving the room for a break to keep my wits about me I returned to find she had not only stripped her bed and herself, but had managed to shove her mattress off the bed. That would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

I managed to wedge my way into her room, not easy with a mattress shoved up against the door and brought her into our room. I sat her on the corner of our bed with strict instructions not to move a single muscle. I then retreated to Maya's room and cried because folks I was at the end of my rope. My last shred of patience was gone. I wanted to yell or shake her or both. I think we must have been separated like that for about 5 minutes. Mike had sensed this was the time to intervene, but it was already starting to wind down. I think my crying had taken the wind out of her sails. It was around then my Mom showed up and sat with us while the "situation" finally ran out it's course. In the end I had both girls in my lap, Abby crying on my shoulder, me weeping into her hair and Maya just not wanting to miss out on any hugs that were being passed out, soggy ones or not.

I am at a loss to figure out what is happening here. To suddenly not want to leave the house is very un-Abby-like behaviour. Little Miss Social Butterfly is she. And she still is, nothing has changed about her behaviour once we are out of the house. And she still loves to play outside wither by herself our with her little friends in the neighbourhood. It's just the act of getting ready to leave the house. That's where the problem lies. I mean there is an argument for this being all genetics. Michael is a notorious homebody. So who knows. With Maya and Mike off for a nap Abby and I spend a quiet afternoon watching cartoons with my Mom. She did request to go off and play with her friends, but I said a quiet afternoon was a better idea. The evening came with an invitation for Abby to watch Papa play ball. Abby accepted and Mike and I waited to see how it would go down when it was time to go. Without hesitation she ran upstairs and changed out of her sundress and into a more appropriate outfit and skipped out the door without a backward glance. Tomorrow morning she starts Vacation Bible School, so we'll see what happens there. I'm hoping that this afternoon we crossed the bridge because it goes without saying that I feel horrible about this afternoon. I hate to lose my patience as much as I hate getting angry with her and myself. Makes me feel like a pretty crappy Mom, which I'm not, but still.

Today am I ever glad to see the end of you. Better luck tomorrow.