God love ’em.
Everything I say to Payne is met with a bark of “No”, or “That’s not right Mommy” or “OKAY Okay okay…”.
But that’s pretty mild compared to the threenager next down the line.
G is in her room right now until dinner, because she was fighting with her brother. So far I’ve heard:
– “Nobody likes me. I’ve lost everything forever!”
– “I’m going to cry forever because mom is being so mean”.
– “I hate you Mommy! I hate you hate you hate youuuuuuu.”
– “I hate this. I hate my dogs (?) and I hate everything.”
– “This is the worst day.”
Maybe I should get her a journal.
And a therapist.
And some better parents. Heh.