You know, like less than a week before school starts.
I've been working hard, PEOPLE.
Apparently, the rest of the world decided to also. It started out great, picking out her favorite pink glittery pencils, puppy dog notepads, and twistable markers. UNTIL we had to pick out the folders. She needed 2 each of red, blue, yellow, and green. She WANTED the pink one with the rainbow and the barbie. And because she was born with this lovely personality trait that she inherited from her father, SHE MUST GET EVERYTHING PERFECT. And when she doesn't, she gets very upset.
So I tried telling her about the time that daddy went skiing but DID NOT KNOW HOW TO SKI. And he wasn't very good at it and ended up knocking
And she went back to crossing her arms and scowling because she'd be the only one with ugly PLAIN PRIMARY colored folders. And then she complained about everything else afterwards (walking, breathing, HAVING to blink her eyes.)
And then the snowball started.
She had gotten so worked up and had forgotten what made her mad in the first place and then started talking about another ten things she had picked up as she started spiraling out of control: we never took her to six flags, we always make her wear clothes, we won't get her an iPhone.
So I made her stand by the buggy and not say a word for five minutes. Thinking, MAYBE, she'd calm down, and "now that it's quiet, I can think clearly, and my mom is totally right"
Or something like that.
FINALLY, we get to the check out line. Maddi is crying. Macy is holding my keys and chewing on a dollar bill. AND we're backing up the line because I can't find my checkbook.
I have become THAT woman.