Lonely-, oh- so lone-ly, I have nobo-dy, to comment on my blog!!!

Yes, I made that fit our traditional 'lonely' song that one of us sings when we're feeling left out. Does anyone else have a signal like that? It's humorous, but it's also a serious 'I'm feeling less loved right now' signal and we can sing it, text it, or even just say it. The other is usually quite fast to respond to it, assuring both of their feelings and making the situation better.

Anyway, today was interesting. Hubby and I accidentally fell asleep last night when we decided to cuddle. So we were up and awake by 8 a.m., and though I've gotten super sleepy, I managed not to nap (so I'm really feeling the tiredness now). We had some fun times before he left for work, and I held down the fort. He called a middle school he really wants to enroll MJ into, and we set up an appointment to tour it this Friday on our mutual day off. Once that appointment was confirmed, I tried to make one at the local public school as well, and ended up having to sign up for one on February 13th, because they're too busy to accommodate private tours right now. I don't look on that as a good sign, to be honest. Reilly fed me the same crap last year when I tried to get one, and we both hate her current school.
Umm, what else. I read for a while, and got hungry ridiculously often (like I'm still hungry now, and just ate 2-3 hours ago) but tried not to eat too much. I made cookies for my cookie monster last night, and put them away (into a tin container) today so they'd be out of the way and hopefully stay fresh.
When MJ was supposed to be home on the bus, I walked out to greet her, and turn in a wedding band we found on the tennis court a few nights ago. They seemed impressed that we bothered turning that in. I just figured it was the right thing to do. I greeted our child, who was already in a good mood, and made a new friend that moved into the apartment complex this past week and we went inside after I picked up the mail.
Walking back, I looked through the mail and noticed a package slip, so I handed the mail off to MJ (she needed the restroom) and went back to the office to pick it up. I'm pretty sure it's a birthday gift from Hubby's parents, but I'm not opening it (though of course I'm dying to).
When I came back, Mj did all her homework, and mostly behaved though she balked at my topic choices for her punishment essays. We compromised (because I didn't care) and she listened to music while she wrote. She wanted to play in the hot tub, so she excitedly did her chores and helped with laundry and was allowed to play while I worked in the kitchen.
It took a surprising 40 minutes to clean the kitchen up enough for me to cook, and it was then that I discovered how low our food supplies were running. I need to go shopping to stock back up, but I'm a little tired of our standard meals and want something different, so I'm not sure what to buy.
Once I cleaned the kitchen, I walked out to call MJ to help me change the laundry over, and I noticed she was carrying her glasses rather than wearing them. We changed the laundry, came back home, and as I was coming in the door, I noticed she was pretty far behind me. I knew the cat was feeling antsy, so I swung the door lightly to close it while she took her time. I had a horrible premonition and jumped out of the way right as the door BANGED open and I could actually feel the wind pass my ankle by inches. If I hadn't moved, I could have bruised (at least) or broken (acutely possible with the strength she used) my leg. I won't lie, I was angry and scared, and I yelled. I yelled her full name, asked what she thought she was doing, and told her to get in the shower. Her excuse was that she thought I would lock her out, and that I was telling her to hurry up when I started shutting the door. I wasn't amused by her dramatic twist of a simple closing door, and pointed her to the shower.
I could hear her starting to sob as she went into her room (I'd scared her when I yelled because I so rarely yell), and felt a little bad but I was still mostly frightened by my close call. That child has some frightening strength!! I knew her intention wasn't to hurt me, and she had only thought of it as a game until I yelled, so when she sobbed out how sorry she was, I told her to come here.
She came to the kitchen where I was getting to work on dinner, and I explained that she scared me. She interrupted me and said I was angry. I admitted I was angry and scared that she had pushed the door so hard and so close to me. I further painted the picture: If she'd broken my leg, I wouldn't have been able to work, and we'd likely not be able to afford to stay in our apartment. I didn't have the car today, so I also wouldn't have been able to see a doctor, and it was a frightening thing to feel the door pass you within inches. She cried and cried and said she was sorry, and I made her look at me and told her bluntly that she needs to THINK about her actions before she does them. Then I hugged her, told her I wasn't mad, and I was sorry I yelled, but that I really needed her to think about what she does. She admitted that she thought she'd worked herself up too much and was having trouble breathing.
I pulled her into a hug, stroked her head and back and told to take a deep breath in, then out, and demonstrated for her. When I felt her breaths slowing, I asked 'Is that better?' and of course our drama-child said 'No.' *Rolls eyes* I said it would get better, please get in the shower. Right before she gets in, she's like 'I can't find my glasses! I think I left them at the pool, can I go get them?' and I was like 'I saw them earlier, they're not in the pool, did you leave them in the laundry room? Check your room, maybe you just set them down and forgot.' She 'checked' her room and couldn't find them, so I gave her my keys, pointed out the laundry room key, and sent her off by herself to check for them while I worked on dinner. She came back rather quickly and was excitedly calling for me.
She said she saw a shadow of a man raise a gun to a woman, and the woman asked him "Why?" and then she ran back as fast as she could. I was rather certain there was a rational explanation (rehearsing a play perhaps?), but decided it could be serious, and grabbed my phone and keys and asked her to show me. She almost cried when I asked her to go back out there, but she went, and then said she couldn't remember what windows it was. I shrugged and went to check the laundry room a second time for her glasses after remarking that we didn't hear a gunshot, so it was probably nothing.
When we returned, I was getting worried about the glasses, so I checked the room myself and found them. The brat didn't even look where Hubby always sets them when she goes to bed (apparently she's adopted that spot too), so the glasses mystery was solved. When she was getting in the shower, she suddenly called out for me, asking if I was alright. Apparently she heard a loud bang. *sigh* I called back 'Calm the hell down and take your shower!!' and she got in.
It took me a while to make dinner because of all the interruptions, but it worked out eventually. While we ate, we watched the beginning of the Sabrina the Teenage Witch movie, before I stopped it 20-30 minutes in, and told her that was enough, she needed to brush her teeth and get into bed. I finished up making her lunch while she did that, before I remembered that we needed to pick up the laundry. I told her to come with me, and she complained, asking why I could just wait til Hubby came home and do it with him. I reminded her that it was her chore, and she stopped. We went to pick them all up, but one of the dryers wasn't dry AT ALL. So I sent her back for quarters, and she was nervous.
She came sprinting back with the quarters, and babbling about how a couple scared her coming around a corner and I just sighed. I knew she was wound up with her imagination again and basically told her to not sprint around corners. We ran that one again, and picked up the other two loads and when we walked in the  door, Hubby surprised us. Apparently he was a little freaked to come home to an empty house.
MJ immediately grabbed him to put her to bed (she likes how he does it), and as she settled in, I could finally settle down.
Now it's late, I'm hungry AGAIN, and we still have to pick up that last load of laundry. Lovely evening..... Love you all, goodnight!

Where does she get it?

The dirt on my couch. It's like little bits of gravel and grass and sand. We take our shoes off at the door, so where does she get it? I'm seriously considering banning her from the couch, but it's such a strong move, I don't wanna do it if it isn't necessary.

The attitude that she's 'gorgeous'. I don't know if it's self-defense, some form of vanity, or even actual confidence, but today when I called her pretty or beautiful or something, she said 'No I'm not! I'm gorgeous!' I didn't have a response for that. I just said 'ok.' It's not something I'm going to necessarily discourage (like her 'it's more important to be pretty than capable!' moment. Now that, I will crack down on).



That HAIR. I swear, it's almost exactly like mine, just a little bit thicker, and she refuses to take good care of it! I'm going to record a video of her requesting it all cut off, and then I'm going to have them cut her hair like this:

I've always loved this song, and I also adore Naruto and Gaara's relationship (they're essentially brothers by circumstance), so this video is a win-win for me. Nighties!

This is SO DIFFERENT

from the talk I had to have with MJ..... It's also really cute and funny. I recommend you watch the individual videos as well, because they're pretty hilarious. 2:05 had me laughing quite a bit.

This is going to be a rather scathing post.

With that said, you may  not want to read. There will be a lot of insults and criticisms, and frankly, right now I'm not sure I'll post this, but I probably will, if only to get everyone's perspective.

Our little niece has pushed me yet again. There's days when I don't even like her. If she weren't so young, I would be very tempted to tell her flat out: "Look, you're a whiny, snot-nosed, stupid ass bitch with nothing going for you but your tiny tits, and at this rate, all you're going to be good for in life is being a man's plaything. Hopefully only one man, but with your slutty ass behaviour, you're likely going to be a slut of massive proportions with tons of little kids who won't know their father either, and that won't deserve to have you as a mom because you'll be as shitty at that as you are at being a good girl and keeping your legs closed."

Yes, I realize that is incredibly harsh. Yes, I realize as a mom, I should never think something like that about my child. But she's seriously pissing me off. It's not even just one thing she's done. It's a lot of things, and I really am beginning to doubt that underneath it all she's still the sweetheart that I adored. I've been holding onto that idea so hard, for so long to help me through her ridiculous shit-headed nonsense, and I'm slowly losing hope.

She's obnoxious, bratty, smug and bitchy. She whines more than any other child I have EVER dealt with on a daily basis (and considering my sisters and their progeny, that is SERIOUSLY saying something). She would whine that her butt itched and act like we need to do something to fix it. It's your own damn butt, scratch it yourself bitch. She told me 'no' today, and when I told Hubby that I'd changed my mind, and he should take her, so I don't try to strangle the entitled asswipe of a child, she had the gall to smirk at me. She also threw her pen at me, and when I threw it back and told her to hand it to me properly, she refused.

Now, I know my parenting skills need work, but here's my thoughts on it: If a child bites you, you are bigger, and stronger, so you bite back, but harder so they understand that not only does their action hurt, but that the adult can hurt them worse, so they shouldn't do something they don't want done to them. If they apply that knowledge to all their interactions, they will learn to not strike others because they will get struck back (as they deserve), not to pick on others because they will be picked on as well, and not to fight those that are bigger/smarter/more than they are because they can easily get their ass handed to them. It's how the world works, and I want all my children to understand that so they don't bite off more than they can chew and end up in the hospital because they decided they're some big shit when they're actually small-fry.

It's not that I want my kids to be small fry, but if they are, damn it they better know it and live within their means. I'm not going to have a prematurely dead child on my hands because I flattered them into thinking they were amazing when they were merely competent.

Now maybe it's because she's not our progeny, but every time she opens her mouth I want to slam my head and ask the gods who gave her such an inflated opinion of herself. She's pretty, not beautiful. She's nice, but not really. She's only nice to get people to like her. She's always been a bully, and if the bitch tries to bully me, I'm going to beat her like a drum and leave her sobbing in the dust. I have no sympathy for ass-munching dumbasses like her. I'm bigger, smarter, and stronger. That should really tell her something. Instead, she's been steadily trying to assert that she's entitled to things. Well she's not. I'll be proving that to her day after day after day.

The worst part though? I DON'T WANT TO. I want to coddle her and love her and cuddle her and support her. But due to her behavior and her unbelievable attitude, I actually cannot do it without enabling behaviours that can and will get her killed in the long run. I see helicopter parents and want to shoot them. Their kids are going to be self-important entitled assholes that I don't want to leave the earth to. I know, I KNOW that children need love and safety and support. I try SO HARD to give it to her, but she doesn't care. She's quite happy to take every bit of advantage of every inch we give until we can't give inches anymore because she's overstepped so far that she's past bearing.

There's times I think I hate her. I want to slap her and bend her over my knee and scream at her. She's not a horrible child, but by no means is she a good one. I'm beginning to agree with Hubby that I don't want our own children around her. But we've agreed to take her in, take care of her, raise her, and support her. We will. We have to.

She just makes it so hard.