As a parent, I believe that it is my God-given responsibility, my reason for existence, my purpose in life, to ruin my children's lives. This weekend was an astounding and amazing success.
Below; a brief list of the many activities that I did that ruined Brynna's life:
1. I forced her to try a pork chop before she left the table. With the raspberry sauce that I specifically made because she's always liked it before.
2. I wouldn't let her go to school yesterday. (As it was a holiday and no one else was there.)
3. I made her get off barbie.com after two hours.*
4. I told her that scalloped potatoes taste more like cheese than potato. Because she hates potato.
5. I packed sliced bell peppers in her lunch for today.
6. I refused to buy her a toy at the grocery store.
7. I watched two hours of the Dirty Jobs marathon.
8. I told her the Jump-arounds had changed their name.
9. I asked her to put away her toys.
10. I made her go to school today.
Alas, the weekend wasn't such a spectacular success with the younger one, who seems amused an happy almost no matter what we do. However, because the weekend went so badly, this morning I took her to the doctor and demanded they stick a needle in her leg. **
* I haven't yet bothered with rules governing computer time because her attention span has always been shorter than whatever TV show I am trying to watch while she's on the computer. Also because, frankly, I am more than happy to regain control of the remote and the peacefulness of the house while she does math with Handy Manny. I guess I need rules now, though, because barbie.com is evil, pink, princessy, crap with no educational value and apparently, no extent to the attention span to be paid there.
** Since I know someone will ask and it is kinda why I made the stupid blog in the first place:
The Doctor's Office by the Numbers:
29 - inches long
21 - lbs. weighing
75 - head circ. percentile
90 - weight percentile
95 - height percentile
1 - number of needles stuck in her (flu vaccine)
1 - number of developmental milestones not met (saying Mama or Dada, obviously)
5 - number of developmental milestones met
16 - oz. of formula needed per day until her first birthday
3 - number of months until next appointment