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Why Dee Can't Have Markers. Ever. Forever.
Posted on Monday, January 19 @ 13:59:08 CST by geekmom |
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Last week (I'm only recently calm enough to coherently blog about it), Dee got into massive trouble.
She had come up to my office and was asking me to play with her. I was in the middle of emails for a client, but I told her that I would be there in 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes later, I peek in the living room and don't see her, so I head down the hall to check her room. En route, I find her in the bathroom, scrubbing her arms. This is never a good sign, and in this case, she looked like a Pict, or maybe a tribal Smurf.
Me: Dee, why are your arms blue?
D: I don't know. (obviously falling back on the classic defense)
Me: You want to try that again? (asked with appropriate mommy-face)
D: I wrote on my arms with Expo marker.
Initially, I was not horrendously upset about her writing on herself ... she only has washable markers, and she dislikes the effort to clean everything up enough that we hadn't had a marker incident in months. However, the Expo markers are not washable -- they are dry-erase; and I had a sick premonition of where this was going to lead.
Me: Dee, what else did you draw on?
D: On the couch.
Crap. "Okay, show me what you did." Abandoning the attempt to get the remaining blue off of her arms, we head to the living room, where I discover that she has, in fact, drawn on the couch.
And a pillow.
And the wall.
In three places.
And another wall.
And her Lego table.
Me (taking all this in and displaying remarkable calm): Dee, what else have you drawn on?
D (looking scared): The TV.
The TV.
I look over at the TV.
The brand-new $1800 DLP television.
Which she has in fact marked on.
All over the screen.
In a half dozen different places.
Little scribbles here. Scrawls there. And great looping circles right smack freaking dab in the middle.
Also, for good measure, she has written her name on the entertainment center.
While I stood in the middle of the living room, eyes closed and trying not to scream, I had four thoughts in quick succession:
Thought #1: Fuck parenthood; I should've gotten a puppy.
Thought #2: I can't kill her; I'd be the first suspect, and I'd never get away with it.
Thought #3: Dee needs to go to her room until I calm down.
Thought #4: Hubby is going to blow a blood vessel.
I breathed for a minute to be sure I could speak without yelling.
Me: Dee, you are in more trouble than you have ever been in your entire life. Go to your room right now and stay there until I say you can come out.
I frog-marched her to her room and shut the door. Hubby passed us on his way to the kitchen, so I followed him in to where he ws starting to get himself a sandwich.
Hubby: So what did she do this time?
Me: You need to put the sandwich down. (Hubby raises one eyebrow). This is really bad.
When he put the sandwich down, I explained what happened and showed him the mess. Several obscenities later (on both our parts), he was cleaning the television, and I was cleaning the marker (and the paint) off the walls. Fortunately, the marker came off the television and the entertainment center without any problem. Unfortunately, in the process of cleaning the wall, I discover that she also wrote on her special tennis shoes with the blinking lights.
With the living room restored to close to normal, it was time to explain the consequences of her actions to Dee, of which there were several.
1: Markers are put up for the indefinite future.
2: The "flashy shoes" are marked up and can't be cleaned, so she just has to wear marked up shoes.
3: She is not allowed in the living room alone until further notice.
4: She is grounded to her room for the rest of the week.
It took a couple of days for the "grounded to her room" to really sink in, but it appears that she has gotten the message.
She got into additional trouble Thursday, as she appropriated a story book out of her classroom without asking, leading to our having to go back up to the school for her to return it to the teacher and apologize for stealing it. That earned her another lecture, the removal of additional toys from her room, and an extended time-out in the bathroom (as that is the only room in the house that can be easily "de-booked").
Overall, bleargh.
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