Week 5, Man Alive...

This was me in happier times...

Ok, so it was only taken Sunday.  But, man oh man is this week a nutty one or what.  And it isn't even over, but I am a little scared to see what the rest of this week holds. 

So as not to be too extremely negative, only one story of the insanity this week will be on here.  And it happens to be about....

Hmmm...Emma, you say?

Emma and her friend, Gabby were playing on the trampoline this afternoon.  I noticed after dinner (which Emma did not eat because she did not like grilled cheese today) that there were papers and shoes outside on the trampoline.  It was still light out so I told Emma to go clean it up.  She of course said, oh yes, mom right away!  Um, that would be in Bizarro world for this week.  Instead, I heard that it was too cold or she didn't want to or just yeah, no.  Well, I put her outside and locked the slider.  Yup, locked it and told her she could come in when she picked everything up.  So, of course, the entire neighborhood can hear her screaming "No, Mommy, Don't lock me outside, it's freezing!" As I type this I am waiting for CPS to pound on my door she was so loud.  Well, after about 15 minutes, she picked most of it up and one of the pairs of shoes.  I looked outside at the few things left and decided it was good enough for now and let her in.  Emma then made the choice to inform me, with a little hand on the hip and a snide voice, that she hadn't picked up the other pair of shoes out there or the last piece of paper.  Oh, Emma, that was a mistake.  I was going to let you slide.  So out she went again. Lock. Bye.

She got so mad she threw the papers she had picked up all over the yard.  After another 5-10 minutes, I went out and told her that since she was not going to pick everything up, she could come in and go to bed. She told me that she didn't care about the shoes left outside.  (All of her shoes are now in the top of my closet except her old pair of tennis shoes she hates to wear.  I guess if you don't care about shoes...yeah, she's not happy right now). I put her through the shower, got her dressed for bed and she has been there ever since.  

To Emma: When you read this at an older age, I am letting you know that the documentation of this story is not because I don't love you or want to portray you as a crazy six year old.  It is so you can laugh when you are a normal, well adjusted, shoe addict of a beautiful young woman who will punch a boy in the face if he tries to kiss her. 

Happy news for this week: We are over the halfway mark to getting Ben back-yay!  And Emma is getting to be an excellent little reader.   I have not poked myself in the eye with a pencil yet-yay me!