Friday, July 22, 2011


Let me preface this by saying, I am extremely thankful to my parents for keeping the girls for three entire weeks, for shuttling them from here to there and from there to here. For giving up all their time and energies and pouring them into my baby girls. I will never be able to let them know how grateful I am or repay them in any way. It was gut-wrenching to be without them , and yet at the same time oh so refreshing. That being said.....

The screams of joy at our reunion have quickly melted down into screams of disappointment and frustration. The kisses and I love you(s) have become angry pouts and demanding cries of “No!” Bouts of fake crying  while watching out of the corner of the eye to see what we’ll do. The “It’s not Fair(s)!!!” are out in full force, as are the little tests to see just how far they can push it. spoiled can two sweet little girls become in a matter of three short weeks? Very. It would seem.   

The even more disturbing part is how much they have grown in three weeks, especially on Finley’s part. I’m sure I do not like what I have missed. Finley no longer calls herself “Fimpy” but very distinctly “Finley.” She no longer calls her sister “Roba” or “Roby,” but the proper version “Robyn” instead. She walks better, talks better, weighs more, got taller, and apparently now likes syrup on her hotdogs. Thank you Nana. She also asked daddy if she could ride in the front seat, and when he told her no, she informed him that “Papa let me do it.” (All your secrets are being revealed Nana and Papa)

Out of all these things, the one thing that grieves me the most is that she did not return potty trained. Before they left I just subtly hinted, then I started dropping little clues here and there, everything but coming right out with it. After all, I do have Lyme disease, an incurable, sometimes fatal, disease. At age 62 (sorry mom) you’d think the least she could do is work on an easy little thing such as potty training. It’s not like she had anything else to do. She and my sister even taunted me with pictures that gave me false hope. Imagine my disappointment when I hugged my little Finn and still felt a diapered bottom. Ohhh, the humanity.

Now, Robyn. Not as much evidence of the spoiling. In my humble opinion, “taking care” of her baby cousin, John William - or as Finley calls him John Wilwam, actually gave her an added sense of responsibility. She seems a little more cooperative, helpful with Finley. I mean, hello, she is also still 7. She throws the occasional fit, gets mad at her mom and dad, disobeys and pouts. All in all though, she really seems more polite and responsible. A very good return on my 3 week investment. The only thing I’m not sure of is why none of her clothes fit anymore. It must have something to do with those syrup covered hotdogs......