This was great for Ada, she got to run around the playground with Daddy and she didn't have to endure 40 minutes in the jogging stroller. However, once we got home all heck broke loose. Ada had decided to rip off one of toenails on the drive home. I'm afraid a horrible nail clipping incident when she was about 6 months old has scarred her for life. However, when she ripped off the toenail she went too far and it got painful, very painful, screetching at the top of her lungs painful. Luckily we were close to home, and we went into turbo parent mode as soon as we hit the driveway. Clipped the nail, ice pack applied, funny faces made, and a quick read of 'Goodnight Gorilla' and we were back on easy street.
Or so we thought.
After amping up for this ordeal I started to feel a bit more awake and decided that I would do a quick run on the treadmill. Pretty simple task, right? Well I forgot about Ada's love of the 'tread-in-nill'. Ada likes to get on there (with adult supervision) and pretend like she is pushing the house up the hill. It is actually pretty cute and she has great endurance.
As I started my run, Ada came in and asked if she could run with me. I was pounding along at a pretty good pace so I said a quick 'not right now' and Elliot swooped in to distract Ada. Only Ada didn't want to be distracted, nope, in fact she had heard what I said, had been injured by my tone, and was distraught that the world that usually revolves around her was - for that moment in time - not. She stomped off to her room (across the hall) and started wailing - 'Nobody hates me'. She was indeed correct except she thought she was saying 'Everyone hates me, no one is listening to me, I'm all alone, and my parents just don't understand me!' And she repeated this for the next twenty four minutes. As I finished up my run and had the treadmill going at a more Ada like pace I asked if she wanted to join me. You would have thought I told her we were going to take all of her stuffed animals out to the backyard to behead them one by one. The dramatics. The flail. The tears that kept coming and coming. And there I was drenched in sweat from my run and therefore unable to do the one thing I want to do - give her a hug and tell her it would be OK.
Ada has informed me in the past that I am, under no circumstances, to touch her, any of her, when I am sweaty.
So I had to reason with her, and this is when I found out that she was one good Cure song away from a full blown teenage meltdown. And just as quickly as the mood hit, it was gone.
Turns out Ada had discovered my new hockey shoulder pads and was busy laughing at herself as she put on the over-sized equipment. This lasted until dinner and then once she had scarfed down pasta and fish the next phase of teenage meltdown kicked in.
Ada decided she wanted to put on her PJs. However, instead of just walking back to her room to change, or asking one of us to help out, she flipped back into the dramatics. This time she was so distraught that we couldn't figure out what was wrong. Lucky for me, this time I was completely dry and non-sweaty so I picked her up, sympathizing with what seemed to be a hormonal breakdown, and soon discovered that she just wanted her PJs. After applying another dose of funny faces and tickles we started racing back to her room, full of joy.
As I sprinted after her I thought - wow - if being almost four is this tough on her - how are we EVER going to survive when she actually hits her teenage years? And then she turned the corner, slipped on the wood floors, and BAM..
Some nights you just can't win...
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