On Monday night, Annalyn woke up crying. Actually, it was technically Tuesday morning. Whatever you call it, it was dark – what we call “sleep time” in our house.

She didn’t calm down on her own (and it’s strange for her to do this in the first place), so I went in and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“The PAINT on my FINGERS is coming off!” she wailed. WAILED.

You would have thought the world was, in fact, ending. I very calmly and without a hint of laughter said, “It’s okay, sweets. Just go back to sleep. It’s still sleep time.”

“But THE PAINT! Waaaahhhh!”

I finally had to tell her that if she didn’t quiet down and go to sleep, I would NOT put more paint on her fingers. It was a great way to spend an hour in the middle of the night.

Just over 24 hours later, on Wednesday morning, my little drama queen woke up early, though not technically during sleep time. Shortly after 6:30, she woke ME up, crying.

I went in, told her whiny self good morning and informed her, gently of course, that I’d get her out of her crib when she stopped whining.

So she did. And I did.

But as soon as I pulled her multicolor gingham skirt set out of the closet, she started throwing a doozy of a fit.

“I want to wear a DRESS!!!”

Normally, I indulge her. If the girl wants to wear a dress, I usually let her wear a dress. But that day, all her clean dresses (that fit) were in the laundry. So a skirt set it was.

But no. She wanted to throw a fit. Finally, in frustration, I told her that she could either quit crying or go back in her crib, naked, while I took my shower. “Is that what you want?” I asked her.


Okey-doke. I put her (mostly naked, but she was wearing underwear) back in her crib, and I took my shower.

When I got out, I asked her if she was ready to behave nicely and put her clothes on. She said NO.

After that, I went back every few minutes and asked her the same thing. Each time, I got the same hateful answer. And the whole time, she was crying and hollering and pitching one heck of a fit.

Finally, we had to leave. So I wrestled her into her outfit, shoes and ponytail, and I picked her up to head out.

It was at THAT point that she decided to kick it up a notch. THAT is when the screaming started. At the TOP of her LUNGS.

She continued to scream all the way through the house into the car and all the way to her daycare. As we pulled up, I said (calmly, and I’m not sure where that calm even CAME from), “You can keep this up if you want. It’s your choice. But I’m going to carry you inside, and ALL your friends are going to see you acting like an animal.”

I know. Harsh, right? Totally mean. But IT DIDN’T PHASE HER.

She kept screaming. All the way up the sidewalk, into the daycare and down the hall. When her teacher said, “Annalyn! What is WRONG with you?” she didn’t even stop to take a breath. She just KEPT SCREAMING.

Her teacher urged me to just leave, so I did. And I only cried a little.

I have NEVER seen her act that way. She was completely out of control! I know it was a full moon this week – and even my cats were kind of spazzing out. And I know we’ve been too busy and had too little family time lately.

But seriously? More than an HOUR of the worst fit I’ve ever seen? What the heck???

Thankfully, about 25 minutes after I left her (SCREAMING) at daycare, her teacher called me at work to say that she’d calmed down. He even made her get on the phone and apologize to me.

She was fine when I picked her up that night. I told her that she’d made me really sad, and she apologized again. I told her that I forgive her and she hugged me.


And here’s the kicker: I can’t even say, “Where on earth would she GET this?” Because, um, YEAH. I know. I can remember times not so long ago when I cried so hard I made myself physically sick.

Poor girl. The crazy comes naturally. Too bad it has to be so LOUD.

This post will be linked to Friday Fails. Because, well . . . do I have to explain?

How was YOUR week?


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