This morning after CCD, it was easy for me to tell when my husband got home with the girls. I was sipping my coffee in the living room and the front window was open. I heard a car pull up, but wasn’t sure at first if it was a neighbor. Then I heard screeching and shouting and unintelligible insults. I heard The Mister grunt in pain. One of the girls lashed out at him.
Princess Number One snuggled on the couch, put her earphones on, and escaped into some music.
Princesses Two and Three continued screeching and I could hear their echoes throughout the neighborhood. They came pounding up the stairs into the house with The Mister ordering one of them to their room. I think it was Number Three. It was confusing. I just know one of them kicked him.
It was determined that there was much brattiness from the time they got in the car to be picked up and the rest is history. Gracie apparently wanted a pony. My Little Pain In The Freaking Ass Pony, of course. She wouldn’t accept that “not until your birthday” was the response. I decided that the arguing over it was done, and explained to her that she got her answer and if she wasn’t happy with it that was all right but her behavior and language were not. She became more disrespectful to The Mister and it was her turn to sit on the stairs for a time out since Number Three was already in their room.
Yeah, she locked herself in the bathroom. We just waited her out.
She ended up in her room on her own, and I could hear the two of them plotting against me. When their time out was over, I just let them stay there to bond since most of their fighting earlier was with each other. When Gracie came downstairs repeatedly to insult me, I explained that her words were hurtful and that’s why she was put in time out in the first place. After an hour, I told her that she had hurt my feelings and if she felt badly she needed to think about the words she had been using, think the words she planned to use before they came out of her mouth, and change her attitude. I wouldn’t be letting her treat me badly or get rewarded for it. She put herself back upstairs, grumbling the whole time about how mean I was to say such terrible things to her.
When it came lunch time, I kicked the three of the girls out of the house to get fresh air. Gracie came back in after a while because the sun was too bright. She kept finding things to talk to me about and inform me about. I took that as reaching out, since earlier her communication was mainly shouting and screeching and insults. I let her help me make dinner… pasta with homemade sauce. I let her help me make dessert too… apple crisp.
And then something completely unexpected happened. I was in the kitchen stirring the pasta in the pot, and I heard Gracie on the stairs calling to me.
“I am sorry. I am sorry for the words I said. I was unkind. I said hurtful things. I am sorry for hurting your feelings. I love you. Please forgive me.”
I didn’t script one word of that for her, and no one else did either. She wouldn’t let me hug her, but she let me come to her and kiss her hand.
“Thank you, sweetheart, for the most beautiful apology I ever heard. I am so very proud of you. Will you come taste test the pasta?”
And so she did. I let her have the first serving of pasta and later the first serving of apple crisp.
Aw, man… I’m crying again. I’m crying because she gets it.