Today Olivia was looking at my face and she said “I’m getting those” and started swirling her finger around near my face.
“You’re getting what, baby?” I asked her.
“Those” (more finger swirling in the general direction of my chin).
Then it hit me. I’m in the midst of a PMS breakout and my chin has gotten the zitty end of the deal.
“My bumps?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I’m getting those!”
“No baby, you’re not getting bumps, your face is smooth and you have a long time before you need to worry about bumps.”
“But I’m getting them! SEE?” And she proceeds to lift her nightgown and show me her kneecaps, which had a few bumps and bug bites on them.
Later today I took the girls outside to play and while they were occupied in the sandbox I took the opportunity to stalk bugs to photograph (For Pioneer Woman’s current Photography Assignment) and I suddenly hear Sophia saying “NOOOOOO NOOOO NOOO” so of course I practically drop my camera to run over and see what the heck is going on. I see her, covered, in sand. In her hair, her clothes, she’s spitting it out of her mouth, it’s mixed in with her (still) snotty nose.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD?” I asked. “Olivia did you throw sand on your sister?”
Of course, she did not want to admit to it, but I finally said “Olivia, I want you to always tell the truth, because if you tell a lie and I figure it out, I’m going to be more upset than if you tell me the truth right away.”
“Okay, I did. I threw sand on Sophia.”
I cleaned poor Sophia off, and as I am doing it I look at Olivia and sternly say “This is MEAN. You are not a mean girl, but you did a mean thing that I do not like.” Then I went on to tell her we were going to go inside since she didn’t know how to behave and she was not allowed to watch any television for the rest of the day.
Of course, this made her cry and get upset. I explained that one of the biggest rules we have is that we never throw sand, because it could hurt and it is not nice. I told her if she did something like that at preschool to one of her friends, she would get into trouble and probably have to come home. I have no idea what would happen, but we’ve started trying to put her misdeeds into “when you start preschool” terms, so she knows what will be expected of her. This made her cry, which made my heart ache, (yes, I am an emotional pushover sometimes), so I told her how much I loved her and knew she was a sweet girl, but she had to apologize to Sophia and never ever do it again. She apologized and I told her if she did it again we were going to throw the sandbox away.
“But…the sandbox won’t fit in the trashcan!” She said very concerned.
Biting my lip, I looked at her and said “I’ll throw the sand away and then give the sandbox to someone else who can use it properly and not throw sand!”
That seemed to satisfy her.