Where is the peace?

Isn't Martin Luther King day supposed to be about peace and non-violence? My kids did not get the memo.

Ava, my 6 year old threw an embarassing tantrum when leaving Liv's parks and recreation music class this morning as she saw children using the indoor pool through the glass. She wanted to stay and swim. We didn't bring swimsuits since we were there for music class. Her solution was to simply run home and get swimsuits. I explained we needed milk and had to run to the grocery. Huge whining hissy fit in front of music class buddies ensued. I then casually remarked to another mother..."Thank God for full time Kindergarten.", and was met with blank stare and of course fit throwing 6 year old.

Twenty minutes later at grocery store Liv pitched a big old fit when she would not get in the cart...opting instead to walk along side of the cart. Which would be fine if she would truly walk along side the cart, which she simply will not. She has to skip gleefully while pulling produce down off the racks. Apparently watching oranges and apples bruise while hitting the dirty floors is monumental fun in her mind. As we moved to the self checkout lane Ava insisted in placing her hands on the overly sensitive bag plate. This completely confused the self check out machine and insisted I be carded for buying frozen pizzas. After convincing the attendant I was not hiding Jack Daniels in my cart I sniped at Ava to keep her hands to herself and stand on the other side of the cart. Then I found myself in a long conversation up in my head about the possibility of going back to aisle 12 and actually picking up a big old bottle of Jack Daniels...and feeding it to my kids. I have no idea how long this weird little day dream lasted but it was long enough for Ava to wander over to the in store bank and attempt to apply for a home equity loan at 6.25% in return for a cherry sucker. The obviously childless attendant gave me this lovely look shooting daggers at me for being one of THOSE yelling mothers. Fine. She then gave me the non-verbal look adoptive mothers sometimes get when one questions whether or not you are their mother. Seriously lady, why the hell would I take the time to bark at a 6 year old applying for a loan just to get the free sucker while pulling organic eggs away from the 2 year old in the cart if it wasn't my kid?

We are now home and Olivia is naked in my house which is set to a chilly 65 degrees. She has spent 1/2 hour contemplating the complexity of her belly button complete with waving at it. She is only distracted by tossing My Little Ponies at her sister's head. I'm not sure why she insisting on the naked bit...but seriously it would be a little smarter of her to go through this phase when June hits.

And I wonder why January brings the wet blanket of motherhood depression my way. I have a dream...yes I have a dream that someone will come rescue me and send me to Jamaica ALONE and toss in a load of whites while they are at it.