I'd tear my hair out, but that would only feed their delusions

Oh my goodness, these kids. Aaaaiiieee!!

Uno is out of control with the melodrama. One day she's threatening to move out of the house (and into the garage) because I don't love her enough to take her to Sonic; the next day she's bursting into fountains of tears at the thought that she might someday -- in say, five or ten years (and even then only if she wants it) -- require orthodontia.

Sample correspondence from my first child (spellings original):

To: Mom
From: Uno

I will be mooving becaseu i was good today so if you donte whant to hav me fine then fine bye.

[heart] Uno

A week ago Dos built a snowman with the inch or so we had in the front yard. She invited us out to look at it upon completion. "Wow, Dos!" I said. "You did a really great job!"



Uno's jaw dropped. She put her hands on her hips. "I can't believe it," she said. "That's the meanest thing you've said to me all day! You love Dos more than you love me because she builds snowmans!"

What? What?!

I can't win with that one.

Dos, on the other hand, is a solid brick of stubborn. When she doesn't want to do something she'll smile as if she has heard you and agrees and then -- right there in full view -- she'll do just the opposite of what you've asked. Often she giggles in her open defiance. Makes me FURIOUS.

Tres is an insomniac. One day last week she woke up about an hour past bedtime and stayed awake until 3:30 in the morning. I brought her to the living room to sleep with me on the couch so she wouldn't wake up her roommates / sisters, but she had no interest in cuddling with Mama. I tried to supervise her nocturnal adventures, but I couldn't keep my eyes open much past 1am. I tire easily these days. DH checked on us after using the bathroom in the middle of the night; I was dead asleep, he said, and Tres was chillin' in the kitchen, coloring lovely pictures. (Thankfully on actual paper that time.)

Last night she woke up at 4am demanding cartoons and PopTarts.

I've felt like I'm coming down with something lately -- all tired and achy everywhere -- but it occurs to me that maybe I'm just worn out from trying to sleep with an uncooperative, wide-awake Tres on the couch every night.

So. These are my children.

This morning got off to a slow start, as most mornings do with us. With time running out, and feeling that familiar mix of exhaustion and panic, I scurried around Uno and Dos, heckling them to stop messing around and start eating their breakfast. Tres shadowed me, tugging at my pajamas and lobbying for her own set of needs (Sesame Street! Princess Pull-Ups! Hice-cream!). I threw together some quick lunches, checked backpacks, found coats, grabbed a hair brush and a squirt bottle to tame the bedhead and then--

"Holy crap, Uno!"



I noticed for the first time that she had chunks of super short bangs interspersed with the regular long ones; a large section of hair had also been lopped off over her right ear.

And then I remembered the Hair Fairy.

Yesterday afternoon, Uno and Dos had repeatedly snuck up behind me to pull individual hairs out of my head. When questioned, they said they were collecting as much hair as they could to put in an envelope for the Hair Fairy (or Hair Very, if you're Dos). Apparently this mysterious sprite collects gifts of hair from under sleepy little girls' pillows and, in return, leaves a stuffed animal from one of those arcade claw machines.

Yeah.

"There's no such thing as the Hair Fairy," I told them. "Now stop yanking my hair out. I've already got a headache and that doesn't help."

From Uno: You don't want me to get a prize from the Hair Fairy, do you? You don't love me! You're not my real mother!

From a smiling Dos: Sure, Mom.

Me, a few minutes later: "There is NO SUCH THING as the Hair Fairy! Stop pulling my hair!"

"You just don't know," said Uno. "The Hair Fairy was born after you were already a grown-up, so you don't know about it but I know it's true!"

Oh my goodness.

Back to this morning: I inspected Dos's hair as well; she, at least, had the good sense to have Uno cut a section in the back where it's already layered and much less obvious. But oy vey.

I ranted and raved. I thought we were beyond stunts like this, I told them; this is the sort of thing four-year-olds do, not smart, school-going five- and seven-year-olds! Grrrrr.

"Did you get your claw machine prizes, at least?" I asked, and was met by sheepish downward glances.

So let's state this one more time and for the record: There is no such thing as the Hair Fairy.

Meanwhile, as I'm lecturing the older girls about staying away from scissors, I notice from the corner of my eye that Tres is sucking on a bottle of hair detangler spray.... I assume I grabbed it away from her in time; she doesn't appear to have been poisoned.

UGH. I love these kids but some days I want to run away from home -- and farther than the garage, even. I promise I'd come back. Eventually....


~RCH~