A tough decision

I remember the first time Kady got really sick with her asthma and the PA wrote out a prescription for a steroid - what was to be Kady's first steroid rodeo. Kady was about 9 months old at the time and had already begun dabbling in the Terrible Two and the Trying Fours, you know, just to see how things were going to be. As the PA ripped the prescription from her pad she held on as I took hold. We were momentarily connected by a sheet of paper. The air was electric. She looked me in the eye and said, "The next few days are going to be hell. Any personality flaws your precious daughter has will be magnified a hundred-fold. Go with God, my sister."

I remember, mere days later how I held my screaming daughter out at arm's length and as she screamed relentlessly......I first cried, then I screamed right back at her. She screamed, I screamed. Then she stopped. I stopped. Then she promptly started bawling because I had scared the snot out of her. Not my most shining moment as a parent, but I didn't know what else to do. I was tired and she was evil.

She's six now......and is currently on the bottom bunk of her bed, repeatedly kicking the bottom of the top bunk, shouting, "I DON'T WANOOOOO TAKE A NAP BECAUSE I'M. NOT. TIRRRRRRRRED." She is punctuating every word with a kick. She occasionally slams her arm against the wall for God knows what reason. If she weren't sick I'd bust her butt, but as it is.....I'm ignoring her. And blogging about it.

And I'm wondering how much damage I'll do to the bed if I start kicking it, too.