Another Day, Another Door Slam

"The only help I truly need is for mental illness to have a cure." This line swiped from Cindy's blog and ain't it the truth.

Squeaker's over the top, make-no-sense tantrums continued last night. She was reasonably well-behaved while we were out yesterday. She tried for some snide comments a couple times but quickly hushed and put on the innocent face at my "don't even think about it" looks in her direction.

She stomped and stormed a bit in the afternoon, called a few of the kids names. At dinner, she asked if she could get changed for cheer practice. I guess she thought my "NO privileges" restriction might have some weakness she could exploit. Um...Nope. That launched rage number one. I only counted three door slams for that one. She later apologized ever so insincerely.

Kitchen chores set off rage number two. She did part of the chore but when I sent her back to finish, she refused. No problem. Shower and bed then even though it was only 6:30. She refused that too but did go up to her room, shouted insults trailing in her wake.

Ana took Lucky to cheer practice along with The Boss. Squeaker shouted at me again when I told her to get out of Drama Boy's doorway and take a shower. To her snotty reply of "What if I don't?" I answered, "Then you'll stink tomorrow because you need to take it now or not at all."

Later Drama Boy and I were goofing around and teasing in the hallway over DB's funny attempts at making his own costume (hang(er)man). Squeaker kept coming out of her room to say "Mo-THER! You told me to go to bed so why don't you all SHUT IT so I can!" SLAM! Open. SLAM! Wait for it. Open. SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! That same scenario repeated at least three times.

That poor door. It used to be Sparky's room so it has been slammed to the point of cracking.

She hadn't showered or changed for bed. She has gone to bed angry the past two nights and Lucky has had to sleep on the couch for two nights to avoid her malicious spite.

Finally she came downstairs and said in an angry voice "I need meds". Usually she refuses meds when she is in a mood. She was wearing pajama pants but her nice shirt from court that morning. I sent her up to change and she actually came back down to get the meds.

A few more rude comments later, she took herself upstairs again and we didn't see her for the rest of the night. Some days that's the best we can hope for.