Some days are much harder than others. I can't seem to find the rhyme or reason in what makes a good day and what makes others so so hard.
We started off great. I was expecting some issues as our super exciting plans had been cancelled last minute.
Instead of going to the amusement park on the Island with her best friend, something she had really been looking forward to, she was going to camp.
Not that going to camp isn't great, it just isn't as great as a ferry ride, roller coaster, carousel and picnic lunch.
That wasn't the hard part. Getting her out of the freezing cold splash pool at 5:30 was the hard part. I had timed it so we would be back in time for dinner (her mood seems to be directly tied to her belly), but I couldn't get her out of the water. There was a friend there, and that was fun. There were other kids there, and that was fun.
They were all long gone before I could drag J out of the water.
It didn't help that I had a migraine too. I thought that getting out in the sun and having the girls be busy would help. It did. They had a great time.
Coming home was not great. Being at home was not great. When R got home it got better because I got out.
Like nothing had happened, she was so sweet with her Dad. All smiles and hugs.
She did calm down. So did I. We both apologized for our poor behaviour.
Tomorrow is a fresh day, a fresh start.
Tomorrow there will be no splash pool in the afternoon.
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