Post It Syndrome

My girls need concrete answers. After a few days of saying “maybe” and “another time” or “later” (sometimes because I wanted to say “Back the Eff off”) I realized that the vagueness was too hard for them.

If Carrot and I read a story after school, I need to tell Zucchini right now when she and I can spend ten minutes together. If Zucchini goes with her mentor, Carrot and I need to plan our activity before Zucchini leaves. Or It. IS. JUST. NOT. FAA–IIIRRR.

In the kitchen with Carrot, she sees a stack of the tiny post-its. “Can I have one to color on?” “Sure, you can have a few,” I say. From the living room, Zucchini shouts, “What? What can she have? What are you giving her?” “A post-it.  Really, Zucchini, a post-it.”

Advertisements

About EratMama

30 something midwestern gal, married to another 30 something midwestern gal, conquering depression, rockin' foster parent.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Post It Syndrome

  1. alison says:

    sounds like our house. LOL.

  2. Beck says:

    Their hearing kicks in when it’s convenient. Our middle guy came in from the other room once to ask what Dad was eating, “what’s that rustling sound?”. That was the pages of the newspaper. No chips, this time.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s