an old woman who has birthed a honey badger.
This was our Easter, blurry, mismatched, ruched Elmo, joyful. LB had no fear on the big slide, even though she is such a peanut that she had to do an elaborate kick off move to get from the slide to the ground. The sun was shining and the breeze was soft. And still I was pissed. LB threw massive fits as I tried to wrestle her into her Easter outfit, and Badger helped her out of it as I was running for bribes. Of course Badger was right-there is no reason for a couple of agnostics to wrestle an angry child into an Easter dress. But I really wanted to see my little girl running around in her dress and scuffed red sneakers. I really wanted a photo to go with last year's very cute photos. Objectively, I think that is a pretty stupid thing to want, but still I wanted it. In my internal justifications, I opined that I do enough for our family that they should be willing to indulge me in this small thing.
Of course, I hadn't counted on Honey Badger. Apparently she is lovely at school: a friend to all, a clean-up helper get-with-the-program-er, and just tough enough to make sure no one takes advantage. At home she has been a clothes refusing, shrieking, food-spitting ball of unpleasantness. That wears on an old woman like myself.
Lurking in the background are also the preemie fears (concerns). Does she refuse to wear a dress because she is two, because she genetically stubborn, or because she has sensory stuff going on. Maybe all three.
Yesterday I left the house for daycare pickup on a sunny, warm day, and walked home with LB in a cold, blustery rain. By the time I took the trash out, I saw the sun setting over the neon Hess and Pep Boys signs. Funny how life is just like life.