Incidents

This week has been busy. We've had something going on everyday it seems, but nothing all that noteworthy. Until Wednesday. And some things need to be documented for years down the road. So here goes.

Wednesday afternoon, Ella layed down for her nap, like always. And, usually like always, she found an excuse to get up before actually going to sleep. Wednesday it was to go potty. I was busy (baking a cake if you must know) when Ella hollared out she needed to go potty. So I obliged and told her to hurry up and get back in the bed. Moments later I heard the toilet flush, water going, and then the door to her bedroom close. And then silence. All was well.

Fast forward to a couple of hours later. Ella got up from her nap just in time to head out the door for church. When she woke up I was getting ready to go in my bathroom. Ella be-bopped in with a chipper, "Hey Mama, I awake!" to which I responded, "Hey sweetie, did you have a good nap?" Until I looked at her.

The child looked soaking wet.

I stopped for a second and thought, "Oh my gosh. Her hair is soaking wet, her shirt, everything! Now I have to rush and get her completely ready before leaving." But I asked her, "Ella, are you ok? Did you get hot?"

"Yeah, I sweated," she said.

"I see that, but are you ok?" (This was not just a little sweat around her neck. This was soaking wet like she got a massive fever and it broke sweating.)

"Yeah, I ok. I said I just sweated!"

Famous.last.words.

Because we then walked into her bathroom where I was going to have to pull her hair up in a ponytail, change her shirt, and call it a day. That's when I stuck a brush in her hair and realized she wasn't wet, she was greasy. And it dawned on me this wasn't water or sweat it was Vasoline! I admit, I freaked a little at first and then started ripping off her clothes to toss her in the tub so that I could try and knock some grease off her before church (to which we would surely be late to now).

And then she turned on the tears. Once she realized this wasn't exactly cool, she kept saying "I'm sorry, Mama" and "I'm so sorry I put Vasoline on me."

But it didn't matter. Yes, I got the grease off her face, arms, legs, and entire body before church. But shampoo wasn't even touching her hair. And don't even get me started on the sheets on her bed and her clothes. Y'all, it was covered. But we didn't have time to worry about it at that point. I crammed some dinner down her and we headed to church, like this:

Now if you don't notice anything different about her hair, don't tell me. Because even after 3 shampoo washes it was g.r.e.a.s.y. She was my little grease monkey for the night. Until I was chatting with a mom of older girls and she suggested Dawn. Why didn't I think of that?!? Makes perfect sense to me (now). So we stopped by the store on the way home, picked some up, and it did the trick within two washes. Oxy-Clean got all the grease out of her sheets, blanket, and clothes. And I have to say, I couldn't believe it. In all my panic, I didn't think to take a picture of her before her bath, but I'm sure you can picture a glistening-skinned little girl with the darkest, most wet (i.e. greasy) looking hair around. It truely was a sight that I hope I never have to see again. 

Why did she do it? "Because I was hurting all over my body and my head and my knees. Everywhere." (picture someone rubbing Icy Hot all over themselves....which we don't do. I have no clue where she got the idea from.)

Fast forward to the next day. Thursday. We went to lunch after running some errands at Pasta Max. The whole lunch had been peaceful and rather uneventful considering we were with 3 other children (Lindsey and her kids were with us). We had paid and were gathering all our things to leave. Our table was around sort of a corner from the door. Ella had gotten out of her chair and had walked towards the door. Out of my eyesight, although Lindsey could see her. I was making one last glance at the table to check for phones, etc when I heard a crashing noise. A crashing noise equivalent to the entire kitchen falling to the ground, except at the FRONT door. I looked up to see Lindsey's eyes as big as saucers and things flying through the air and landing on top of and below the table (note this distance between the door was a good 4-6 feet). And then I saw both Aidan and Cooper next to me, which only meant one thing:

Ella had struck again.

Right inside the doorway of the restaurant is an entry-way with a wine rack below. Yes, a wine rack. And my little darling took it amongst herself to pull a bottle of wine out of that rack. When Lindsey saw what Ella was doing she yelled for her to stop, but at that point she had already pulled it out.

So she just dropped it.

And it went everywhere.

The neck of the bottle flew over and on top of our table (again, approximately 4-6 feet) and the base of the bottle flew under our table. The wine of course went everywhere on the floor. And it made for once again a very upset little girl, an embarrassed mama, and an eerily quiet and staring restaurant.

Once I made my way to her I explained in my calmest voice how horrible of a choice this was and although she was apologizing to me over and over she didn't break something of mine. So I made her apologize to the restaurant. And she really lost it then.

"I'm (sniff) SO (sniff) sorry (sniff) that I (sniff) broke (sniff) your (sniff) Sprite." (crying once again ensued)

The man felt horrible that she was crying and got a little tickled at her calling it Sprite. I offered to pay for the bottle (knowing it would be a $400 bottle of wine) but he was very gracious to us.

And I was exhausted.

I'm hoping we've had enough "events" in a week to last us a year (or two or three).