Nothing Gets Past Her

Today, Pea had *another* meltdown of colossal proportions. She was having a rough time with her Rapunzel dress, it wasn’t fitting right, and apparently, this was all my fault.

Isn’t it always.

It ended with her yelling at me that she didn’t want me to help her, she only wanted Daddy, all day, and that I should just go away.

In the course of trying to calm her down, more words were said, I was told to just back off.  I’ve had a lot weighing on my mind this week, woke up feeling off and not really shaking it off by that moment –  and I ended up bursting into tears. In my defense, I was, as I saw it,  understandably tired of  managing the crap thrown at me the past week while I try to “be the adult” and not toss her through a window* in the process.

*Note: I’d never do that. Our house is a rental, thus, so are the windows.*

The tears shook her. In the end, she apologized, we made up, she managed to get the Rapunzel dress back on without issue and played in the garden for a while.

Fast forward to dinner, where we were going through our nightly routine of “Worst part/best part”, where, obviously, we recount the worst part of our day and the best part. We are ALWAYS honest about the worst parts, with the understanding that it is a recounting of fact, and not a recrimination.

Still, not wanting to hammer down on Pea, I simply said “Someone really hurt my feelings and made me feel sad…”

…and Pea interjected “But at least SHE said she was sorry“.

* * * * *

I had to walk away from the table, as the Hubs turned red in his effort to contain his laughter, and was presently hiding behind his dinner napkin.

I swear, NOTHING gets past that girl unless she chooses to ignore me it.



  1. Glad to see her new dress fits. Maybe you could just lock her a tower till she is 21 or kissed by some prince.

  2. Evil has the same dress and has probably had that same melt down and I probably cried too. Hugs to you.

  3. You’re right, nothing is getting past her!

  4. Love the piccys, have to agree not alot is getting past your little one. I did laugh out loud at her retort of at least SHE said sorry..

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