No Stress For You

Dad is out of town (duh!).  My Mother fixed her iPod all by herself (huh?).  And I had a FULL Freaking Day.  But my timing was good.  I didn't fall behind.  I got it all done.  And even the things that didn't work out as planned, still went according to plan.

And then I stopped by My Mother's house.  

She was feeding one granddaughter with one hand and one granddaughter with the other hand.  (I was starving and helped myself to Spaghetti-O's.)  I told her that I was there to help with the little ones.  And she "accepted" the help but kept interrupting it by interjecting complicated plans (i.e "let's make smores and I will make jammies for your favorite bunny while I create overly complicated scenarios with a multitude of toys")

*I* on the other hand was going all Vygotsky on my nieces.  I just wanted to watch them negotiate their world.  I wanted to observe their "play".  I WANTED TO HONE IN ON THEIR ZONE OF PROMIXAL DEVELOPMENT!!!!!!!

I finally got the kids to myself and was thoroughly enjoying my observations.  Seriously.  It was so cool to watch them at play.  Only interjecting or intervening when absolutely necessary.  Watching a 3 year old negotiate with a 1 year old.  Watching a 1 year old model behavior at times and at other times, carving out her own choices.  Fascinating stuff.

All of the sudden My Mother pops into the room.
"Who wants a Spa Treatment?"

(Somehow I got the feeling that she wasn't talking to me.)

So off she went with Cupcake for a "Spa Treatment" which instantly concerned Barf Vader who ambulated (with my minimal assistance) towards their voices.  And when Barf Vader saw Cupcake getting her hair washed, Barf immediately got agitated.  As far as she knows that is HER sink.  She bathes in it.

All hell broke loose.

It is a well documented fact that I like Chaos, but when Cupcake demanded on getting INTO the shower AFTER her bath AND My Mother indulged and got in there with her clothes on while I held an increasingly ticked off Barf Vader in my arms, I decided that Enough is Enough.

"HALT" I yelled.

"You - stop spraying your grandmother with the shower nozzle.  You - get out of the shower.  You are soaking wet and you are going to break a hip.  And You - stop the crying.  It isn't going to get you any closer to your goal."

All three of them stared at me.

Finally, My Mother said "I like this.  It takes my mind off of things."


sigh


My Mother texted me later this evening and said Thank.You. (she hits the punctuation button accidentally all the time.)

I texted back No More Stress For You.

She texted back Promise.??.?.?

psssssht


A Promise is a Wish that Your Heart Wants to Keep.

I can't promise her no more stress any more that she can't promise me to not overdo things.



Love you, Mom.