Day 1 of camp was fabulous. Tot was as high as a kite, and couldn’t wait to go back, especially for the field trip.
Day 2 didn’t happen. Before breakfast, she complained for all of a minute and a half that her stomach hurt. Then, just as we arrived in the parking lot, Tot ejected the peach she had for breakfast all over the car, so we turned around and went home. Tot was very upset. I felt bad for her… and for me. After we got home and she settled in with her bud, Thomas the train, she seemed fine but ran a low grade fever, so I kept her home the entire day. She was still very excited for the field trip which was due to happen on Day 3.
Then Day 3 arrives, and whoosh! I’m convinced there was a alien body invasion overnight, because it was not my child in that body that looked like Tot. THAT child claimed she did not want to go on the field trip. Both Mr.Tot and I attempted to figure out why with no real success. After prolonged negotiating, cajoling and finally threatening, we conceded that she didn’t have to go to camp, but still had to go to the Playplace, otherwise known as the daycare part of our gym, and no fun would be had today – no pool, no museum, no friends, no shows, no painting, and no mommy play, just dreaded errands. Oh the screaming that ensued.
Distress overwhelmed me – partly for myself and partly for her. I had been fine going along taking care of her day in and day out, but once the prospect of an entire 40 to possibly 50 hour week of free time was within my reach… THEN I was desperate to hold onto it. And Tot NOT liking camp with all those kids to play with? What had happened to change her attitude? And it seemed she wasn’t interested in swimming either… *gasp* My little mermaid not interested in swimming? This was serious – our lives were suddenly shrinking. I was on the verge of melting down myself.
Mr.Tot managed to get her dressed despite her wishes, and we tossed her in the car under loud protest, along with her bag, just in case, and headed to the gym, because by gosh, I may be missing another day off, but we sure weren’t giving up our exercise after just restarting it on Monday. I muddled through the weight lifting and rowing, and was not at all looking forward to the day ahead with a miserable uncooperative Tot. The camp group was supposed to leave at 9am so my fate was sealed by the time I got to the shower. Imagine my surprise, when I’m just getting dressed in the locker room and someone comes in asking for me.
“I was told you have Tot’s lunch for the field trip”
“WHAT??!!! She’s going?!!!”
I think I have whiplash, this girl changed her mind so unexpectedly. So I got her into her bathing suit, and she ended up going after all.
Mr.Tot explained to one counselor as he brought her in an hour and a half late that she had changed her mind. ”We women can do that.” she replied. He went on, “She pitched a massive fit this morning not to go…” Her response – “We women can do that.”
So we went home Tot-less and my head was spinning from the about-face. I was happy, but pretty close to a puddle from the emotional upheaval and sheer relief. Those of you who have free time may not understand what I went through. Just what did I do with my precious free time you ask? I shopped *Tot-free* – a whole different experience than shopping with Tot, some fun, some necessities, I took pictures, I NAPPED, I painted an adirondack table purple to go with the adirondack chair I painted a couple weeks ago, and I cleaned Tot’s room. Okay that may be exaggerating – I made a dent in Tot’s room. And yes, my plans for remaining free time this week mostly involve what others would consider drudgery – organizing parts of our house. That’s how warped I am. Plus it’s too hot to do anything outside – 100° and HUMID!!! Ick.
I went back at 5:30 to pick Tot up and she had had *SURPRISE* a fabulous time, though the leader took me aside and said Tot had a big blowout but that she had taken care of it. Fortunately she had five, yes FIVE kids herself, so she said it was no big deal. Whew!
Another day of fun for Tot and the fun didn’t stop there. After almost 4 months of treatment all to bring her to the point where she could sense an impending poop, she finally did it. And she managed to go on the potty!!! From being in the tub, so double kudos and ENORMOUS relief for me at the near disaster that was so narrowly averted. Did I even say that right?
And after all that excitement, was she tired out?
What do you think?
And just to keep the whip lashing, my day careened back to negative when Whiney bits peed on the bed. Evidently her litter box did not meet strict feline governing standards and she was issuing her protest in the most objectionable way possible. It was certainly NOT civil disobedience, nothing civil about it. Fortunately we have a waterproof mattress pad, because yes, it has happened before… and will again, I’m sure.
I’m hoping tomorrow will be more of a carousel ride than a roller-coaster, though Tot’s refrain this evening was, “Maybe I will go, maybe I won’t…”
I just can’t WAIT for the teenage years… Where’s Calgon when you need it?