Ivy gives me a run for my money.

Generally Ivy is a good kid. Usually well behaved. Keeps herself entertained. Helps out around the house. Uses her manners. Etc.

Today, though, she gave me a serious run for my money.

It started yesterday, really, I guess, when she scooped handfuls and handfuls of oats and sprinkled them all over Dotty. She told my dad (who was babysitting) that she was feeding Dotty. It resulted in oats all over the place, combined with marks all over the floor where Dotty was licking the oats up. End result: my floor looks even worse than it normally does.

This morning I couldn’t find Ivy. She wasn’t in her bedroom, or the boys’, or mine. I called downstairs for her. Then I heard a muffled voice coming from behind a door. “I”m EATING SUGAR MOM!” She was in the pantry, with the door shut, eating handfuls of sugar out of my bin. Her hands and mouth and my pantry floor were covered in sugar. At least she was honest about what she was doing??

Later on I went downstairs to my sewing room, where I found my chair completely covered in black ink scribbles, a la Ivy. I put her in a time out while she cried to me that she would “never do it again!”

When I came upstairs, I found her at the kitchen island, stuffing her face as fast as she could with icing sugar covered mini donuts that I had bought for dessert. As soon as she saw me, she spit the donut that was in her mouth back into the box, like I might not notice.

And now, the kitchen, dining room, and hallways floors were covered with granola and dog licking marks. COVERED. Ivy was covered in granola too. I reminded her AGAIN that Dotty eats dog food, not people food, then I swept the floor for what felt like the hundredth time, then put Ivy in the bath. I washed her hair and got her out and dried off and in clean clothes, then I went to get supper ready.

She called me a few minutes later because she had a hair stuck to her hand. It was stuck to her hand because she had glitter nail polish ALL OVER her hands. And her shirt. AND her hair. Literally five minutes after I washed her hair. I scrubbed her down with nail polish remover while she apologized profusely, then sent all the kids outside to play, popped some tylenols, and put myself for a nap on the couch before I killed her.

I mean, really.


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