Yesterday a hard day, not without bright spots, but overall just difficult. Temper tantrums (mine & hers), whining, and budgeting, add hormones of a very special variety and we're jetisoned into no man's land. In the grocery store, the unwieldy (much motherly-despised) "Car-cart". You may have seen them, Deeper wider grocery cart with a big plastic car attached to the front, in single & double versions. Red for fire engine, blue for police car. I find myself hoping every grocery trip that we won't find one available, and that if there is one available I will only use the single version. The double is just ridiculous. These Car-Carts supposedly keep kids happy & entertained for the duration of shopping---maybe that works if the kids are doped one way or another, or still young enough to be fooled that they might actually be driving. Not so for my child. She'll sit still in it for about 15 minutes, until it really sinks in that she's not getting the chocolate milk/sugar/vending machine surprise that she so desires. Then all bets are off. She's popping her head out muppet-style, she's climbing on the car trying out all possible positions. Upside-down, inside-out, standing hanging out the window, lying across the seat feet hanging left-head hanging right. At one point we met up with another mom & child roughly similar age of Fiona. This mom was having a similar issue with her son. In passing, we both said, almost simultaneously, "Get back IN the car, please!" Her son was hanging out the 'windshield' with a foot apparently stuck between the dual steering wheels---she was unluckily saddled with the double wide Car-Cart. I can at least say that I've learned a new skill. Can I add "expert artful piloting/manipulation of giantous clumsy Fire-Engine Car-Cart fully laden with grocery & child"?
Right now, she's quirming in her seat, "Mama, I want some more, cocoa."