They really have had it good.
For the last year I have worked two days a week. On those days, Brennan either stays home with dad or her big brother OR she goes to her grandma's for the day (where she is spoiled with tons and tons of DumDum suckers and 7Up until I am SURE her teeth are going to rot right out of her head!) And she has (finally) gotten used to that arrangement.
But, as life often does, things have changed recently.
I picked up an extra day of work. ONE EXTRA DAY. And you would think that the world. was. ending. Brennan can NOT seem to cope with being away from me for one more day. (I am not sure if I should be flattered about that or not...) But ANYWAY...this all leads up to this wonderfully EMBARRASSING moment from yesterday...
Yesterday, we went to a family reunion. The big kind. Where your parents and their cousins and their cousin's kids, and their kid's kids, and your long, lost Aunt Sally ALL come together in a grand chaotic eating and visiting frenzy. THAT kind of reunion. Where you MAYBE know 10 of the 50+ people who are there, but you know you are all related SOMEHOW, so it's all good. And you let the kiddos run free (and cause all kinds of trouble with their new-found cousins/friends) and you sit and visit with the few people you DO recognize and pretty much FORGET you even BROUGHT your kids with you.
Or at least that was what I was doing!
Until it was time to go. And then I went hunting for the kids. Roundin' 'em up, so to speak. And when I found Brennan, I found something else too!
My daughter is a blabber mouth. And I don't necessarily mean the "good" kind!
There she was, telling a distant I-don't-know-you cousin ALL about her horribly rotten parents. She was going on and on about how HER parents NEVER have ANY time for her. We just work NON-STOP. And we are gone ALL DAY and she is stuck at home with her big brother and her sisters and she doesn't like it. At. All! The way she was carrying on, you would have SWORN that I work 50-60 hours per week!
Of course, I felt the need to clarify my position. I work THREE days a week. And I am home well before dinner. Every. Night. And I tuck her into bed. Every. Night. But that extra day....is just too much. THREE days, not five, or six, or seven...THREE.
And obviously Brennan is NOT okay with that.
I wonder how on Earth she is going to cope with starting 1/2 day preschool in the fall??!
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