We started with a round of Katie sitting on the potty seat. Nothing happened, but her pull up was wet, so I got her a new one. Which she refused to put on or cooperate with having put on. So I picked her up, slung her over my shoulder, and applied the diaper, then replaced her body suit. That was one.
Shortly before dinner, Katie asked for a cup of cinnamon oat squares -- then dumped them on the floor in front of Julie "for the baby". I informed her that she needed to pick them up and put them back in the cup.
After several repetitions of this, I told her that she was going to pick them up or be taken upstairs to bed. She didn't believe me.
So I picked her up and gave her a quick barehanded swat on her bottom -- not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that she knew that I was unhappy. It's not the injury, it's the insult. And I headed for the stairs.
The waterworks started. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"I will take you back to the kitchen if you will pick up the cereal."
No response but tears. I figured I'd try. So back to the kitchen. Where no picking up occurred.
"Katie, you have until the count of three to get over here and pick up the cereal. One, two, three."
And I picked her up, swatted her behind again, took her upstairs, and put her to bed, closing the door behind me to the sound of tears. *sigh*
Dinner was ready, so I ate, then went upstairs about fifteen minutes later to rescue her. Katie was sound asleep, face down, probably because she's been refusing to nap in the afternoon. I woke her up and we went downstairs for her dinner.
Somewhat later, Katie discovered her diaper was poopy by the now-traditional and extremely annoying method of sticking her hand in it. We got her into the living room to be changed where she then refused to go to Gretchen.
"Katie, go to Mommy so she can change you, or we will change you and put you to bed right now."
And she danced into range where Gretchen could reach her. Ok, progress.
Finally, it was time to go to bed. Katie went upstairs first. I followed a bit later with a basket full of laundry and saw Katie peeking out of the bathroom.
Where she had opened the brand-new sack of cat food and dumped it out into a box. It could have been worse. It could have been the toilet.
I picked her up and showed her the box. "No! You can't do that." Another mild swat on the bottom and into the bedroom she went, with the door closed behind her while I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom. This included fielding Julie, who had come upstairs with Gretchen and crawled into the bathroom, intent on mayhem with the fuzzbucket_cat's food dish. She, on the other hand, is not yet old enough to know better. :)
Daddy did get a kiss good night from Katie, so apparently I am not evil.
I'm happy to know that.
But what an evening!
In other news, I caught Julie cruising across the living room, pushing one of the stack tables in front of her for support. There is a little girl who is going to be walking very soon. :)