Sometimes that’s good thing as in:
It stuns me how mature (for a 5-year-old, mind you) Flora can be.
The other day, Flora’s dayschool took the kindergarten-aged children (holy cats, Flora’s going into kindergarten in the fall!) bowling. She scored a strike and two spares, and won two prizes. They were packages of those encapsulated expandable sponge animals, which my girls find endlessly engrossing.
Upon telling me of her victories, and her prizes as we walked out to the car, she turned to her little sister and said, “Here, Kate, you can have one.” And she handed Kate a package. I don’t think she even checked to see if it was the dinosaur or farm animals one.
I think I literally gasped.
Kate gushed, “Oh, sank you, Flora.” They hugged.
Fighting back tears (damn hormones!), I said, “That was really nice, Flora. You’re being a good big sister.”
As an aside, I love my dayschool’s summer program. Weather permitting, they have a sprinkler day once a week — which is kind of a PITA for me what with all the finding of bathing suits and towels, and packing up changes of shoes and clothes. But the kids love it. They take the older kids (Flora’s age and up) bowling or miniature golfing one day a week (it’s ain’t free, but it ain’t breaking the bank), and usually they walk to the library one day a week. They are even planning an outing to the Children’s Museum! I guess it makes me happiest because they are the kinds of activities that, were I a SAHM, I would be doing with my kids, too.
Sometimes, the winning children come at a cost:
For example, last night, as I huddled in the girls’ room under two blankets. I was on Flora’s bed.
The girls were in our bed with their father.
I had attempted to separate them (the girls, at bedtime) because after half an hour, the shenanigans weren’t calming down. I heard jumping and loud laughing and even a little screaming. It was nearly 10 o’clock. Dan actually wasn’t home yet.
I stomped upstairs, banished Flora to my room, and lay down with Kate. She sobbed about how she wanted “Foe-wa” and her “sissy”. By the time she was finally settling in and falling asleep (gripping my arm so as to keep me by her side), Dan was home. When he came upstairs, I sent him to check on Flora.
Kate didn’t want to sleep with me anymore; she wanted to sleep with Daddy. Daddy and Flora were having a bang-up conversation in the other room.
I had to pee.
I gave up. I was tired; I had a half-day to work in the morning. Lights were on all over the place (night-lights, bathroom lights — my girls are deathly afraid of the dark) — and I can’t sleep with lights on. I don’t know why I went to Flora’s room instead of the guest room, though. Peevish-ness, probably.
So Kate climbed in bed with her sissy and her dad, and I closed the door to the girls’ room and turned out their nightlight.
This whole bedtime fiasco is really getting to me. It’s getting to Dan to, primarily because as a result of not falling asleep until after 10 p.m., Flora is a BEAR in the morning. She doesn’t want to MOVE. Mornings are largely Dan’s domain, and trying to get a cranky 5yo out the door is stressing him out.
I don’t know what to do, short of moving Flora back into her old room (the current guest room — which, aha, didn’t have sheets on the bed, which is how I ended up in the girls’ room). Which we will need in November for the baby. When I try to separate the girls and go back downstairs, they simply disobey me and don’t stay put. When I try to separate the girls and stay with a sobbing Kate, I don’t get what I need from the evening (whether that’s folding laundry or reading a book).
I can make them go to bed, but I can’t make them go to sleep. It’s starting to really suck.
The children will undoubtedly win again at something or another, as we are off to Erie for the weekend, and Nonna and Pap-pap are always happy to indulge them. Happy 4th, everyone!