However, my weekly life still needs to revolve around routine. Get up, school, lunch, nap…these are constants in our ever changing world. Without these things our life gets into tumult and my mommy fortitude weakens. And it doesn’t take much to throw off the schedule. An “I aunt a pink” episode that will only be solved by a pink strawberry smoothie from Jamba Juice. This small action can change the course of an entire day.Last week post “nastics” Emmeline had an “I aunt a pink” meltdown. (This is her new thing – everything has to be pink. I blame my best friend Beth who is a pink-a-holic). So, we went to Jamba Juice and indulged in a cup full of fabulous pinkitude. Then it was time to pick up Lena from school. Emmeline insists on sitting in Lena’s car seat because there’s a cup holder coupled with “I big” demands of sitting in the big girl seat. Ok, what harm can come of this?
We pick up Lena at school. She’s chatting away about her day telling me how George hugged her and she’s positive that he probably wants to marry her but she’s already going to marry Brice (yes, it starts early…). She takes a microsecond to breathe and notices the coagulating cup of pink sludge in her cup holder. “WAIT. A. SECOND. DID YOU GO TO JAMBA WITHOUT ME?” All of the sudden I’m propelled back to feeling like I’m about to get yelled at for getting a poor grade in school. I cringe, knowing what’s coming next – a full blown Lena meltdown. This is not for the weak of heart – which I am. Seal Team 6 quivers in fear of the storm that is Lena.The tempest arrives. You think you’re prepared. But you’re never really ready for Lenageddon. I am wondering if I should open the windows to reduce some of the atmospheric pressure that is increasing in our car – or will they simply explode?
There are three stages of Lenageddon:
- Stage 1: Denial/Anger. This includes: Screams. Arms flailing. Threats on life and various body parts. Blaming people for this incident. Blaming people for past indiscretions. Blaming people for things that have never occurred.
- Stage 2: Self-Pity. Includes: Copious amounts of tears. Gasping, sobbing, shaking. And, slinging around a little more “It’s not fair” and “Emmeline is the root of all that is wrong in the world. and tales of how I’m the “meanest, worstest, Mommy in the entire world” and how I am no longer welcome to be her mommy.
- Stage 3: Acceptance. After the shaking, gasping and threats of puking subside (which can take up to an hour) she finally comes to terms that once and a while, people may actually exist outside of the epicenter of the world of Lena.
Going with the flow? Not so much in this house! The rest of the day is spent on eggshells, praying that everything happening around her isn’t the one thing that detonates another chain reaction of napalm. Naps are tossed aside. Afternoon plans scrapped. Alliances of small nations screech to a halt. The clock tortures me making minutes stretch into millennia as we crawl toward nirvana of bedtime. Thankfully, the day comes to an end. The finish line is within sight. Lena is finally in bed. The house breathes a collective sigh of relief. And then we hear a little voice yelling from the room across from Lena’s: “Mommy! I aunt a pink!” Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
As a side note: I would have gotten Lena a smoothie from Jamba Juice. If she liked them. Which she does not. Especially the pink one.