This past weekend, K got to experience the sugar-overload of Easter. On Saturday evening, we went to friends' for an egg hunt and dinner. Then, Sunday we headed to some other friends for a quiet Easter brunch.
K does not react well to "ready, set, go!" Instead of running off, he collapses to his knees. Only after much cajoling will he get up and hunt for eggs.
K cannot get enough candy or sweets. But what else is new.
The dinner table is turning out to hold our most unhappy moments as a family. K's table manners are terrible, Frodo (our dog) is a pain in the b#*@ and constantly underfoot, and both Tad and I feel like we are constantly badgering and battling the two of them.
This morning K scared the heck out of me by sneaking into our room while we were sleeping and then screaming "boo!"
Yesterday, we were watching Mary Poppins and K said that the Tuppins lady was "very sad because his [sic] daddy went away and his mommy is mean." Oh dear. Breaks my heart. A sign of psychotherapy to come?
Also, Saturday morning K went about stating "I HATE my Mommy and Daddy." I think he had no idea what he was saying, because he said it in a matter-of-fact way while and perhaps he was just pretend-playing. But I still put him in timeout for saying a horrible, nasty, ungrateful thing about his parents. Good parenting or not, I don't know. I suspect not. More psychotherapy in our future, I guess.