Easily Impressed... And Upset

She looks so sweet.
Too bad she's not.

So, in case you missed the news a couple of weeks ago - and who can blame you - Maren is in school. And as much as I would love to sit around and cry about my baby growing up, I'm way too busy dealing with her precious babyness.

You wanna hear the good news first, or the bad? I always say the bad. Because I'd rather end on a high note. Which is find if there is actual good and bad news. It sucks when the news is that your favorite person ever died and the mail ran early this morning. But I digress.

Good News: Maren Loves Everything.

She is so easily impressed that it's ridiculous. Last week, every day for lunch, I made her a cute little turkey baloney sandwich on a hot dog bun with a little cheddar cheese, a fruit salad made of grapes and strawberries (shut up two fruits is totally fruit salad) and baby carrots. Every day - every-stinkin-day - she squealed like she had just seen The Beatles when I handed her the little covered plate.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou. I love this sooooo much. Can I please have the exact same thing tomorroooooooooow?"

Last night, while I was getting stuff prepped for today, a terrible thought occurred to me. I am out of grapes. I let her finish them off on Saturday morning while I was trying to get 74 loads of laundry sorted. So, I packed the rest of the lunch the same and added a little cup of mandarin oranges.

This morning, same squeals of joy.

Just to recap folks, baloney sandwiches, fruit and carrots blow her mind with joy. This seems so easy.

Likewise are clothes the epitome of everything good and holy. All clothes. Anything. She hugs them in the morning and says "My teacher, Miss Chapi, is going to looooove this outfit."

And hair, which we never, ever want brushed, is okay so long as it is styled to be "pretty for my teachers."

Finally, I can report that everyone is her best friend. MybestfriendMegan and MybestfriendWill are common-enough phrases around here. Friday night, at the beginning of school picnic, I made an attempt to put a face to each of those names with the help of her teachers and felt pretty satisfied. Until we were on the way home and she said, "I miss MybestfriendCrystal." Crystal?!? Who in the pants is Crystal? I've never heard her talk about Crystal before.

But you know, that's just Maren. She is my happy child. My never ruffled for long child. My easy going, happy-go-lucky, amazingly well-adjusted kid.

Or not. Because now we have...

The Bad News: Everything Makes Maren Miserable

From the moment I pick her up, I start to see all the issues in the world around us.

"How was your day, Maren?"

"Not good. I went to sleep at nap time."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's the point of naptime."

"And a bug landed on me outside."

"Well, that happ..."

"And I'm so saaaaaaaaad."

Then we get in the car and the sibling fighting starts. Last night she cried for 16 miles because she dropped a toy. We only have a 17 mile drive. In church yesterday she fell down on the floor in misery because I wouldn't let her hit another kid with a basketball hoop. "It won't hurt, I promise. Waaaaaaaah."

She wants a backpack. She doesn't want slippers. She hates peas (since when?) She can't understand why the DVR cut off before Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She's tired, she doesn't want to sleep, she's hungry, she hates all food. I cannot make the child happy. Until I do. Randomly. About something that seems so minuscule and unimportant I can't even understand why she notices.

I'm blaming the new schedule. Can anyone tell me how long a schedule is "new" for a three year old. Because I seriously don't know how long I can handle this. My little angel/hellion is giving me whiplash.