We are home at my Mom's house and, for the most part, it is wonderful. I have gotten to sleep in, spend quality time with my Kindle and drink a fair amount of wine. We've gone to a pumpkin patch, had a marshmallow roast, driven to the highest point in the state, taken a train ride, had Addie's teeth cleaned, carved a pumpkin and played, played, played. There have been tons of giggles and lots of fun - but there has also been a crapton of Additude.
Feet stomping, hands on hips, screeching. Pouting, hitting, grouchiness. She's been demanding and exhausting and snippy. She has been bossy and opinionated and short tempered. I have had a very small arsenal of patience - I have taken away treats and walked her out of restaurants and used multiple "thinking chairs".
And each time I am feeling like I am at the end of my rope, I look over at my mother, for her endless support, for reassurance, for her shoulder and all I see in her face is a satisfied, amused, totally tickled smirk.
And that smirk says "God I love this kid, I told you to just wait and that you'd understand." And then she looks me in the eye and with one look let's me know it's okay to "love my daughter, but not always like her".It's only been a little over 72 hours, but I think that Mom's smirk and Addie's Additude have decided to be pretty good friends.