Mid-week blues

Thursdays are just terrible. It seems every week we hit the fourth day and things just fall apart. L and I are short with each other all day and she and her brother just can't seem to avoid scuffles no matter what we do to try to mix things up. Today, I remembered just what day of the week it was as soon as N left for work and L crumbled into screeches and shouts over my suggesting she get dressed and ready for the day. So I made my best attempt at stitching together a good lesson plan for her and tried to add some fun social engagements into the day to give Thursday a fighting chance at being at least as good a day as any other. To no avail. This was our Thursday:

Following the wardrobe fight, came raging frustration over having to wait five more days to open the Christmas gifts that came in the mail this week. After much shouting and crying came hugs and apologies, and then for some much-need fresh air, we went to the playground by the beach. Once we arrived, I started to remove C from his seat, when I heard L exclaim in acute disappointment: "Not here! I wanted to go to the library playground." I convinced her it could be fun if we pretended the playground was the rainbow float and she was Strawberry Shortcake on a maritime adventure. All was fine until she tried to play with the little boy who was playing there and he expressed little interest in her. Yet another disappointment, to say the least.

Later, while C napped at home, I called the mother of a little girl we met at the craft fair last week to see if she could come over for a tea party with L. Sadly, they were heading out of town for the holidays. So we called another friend to invite her to play, only to learn she and her family moved to San Francisco last month. L fell into tears and so did I.

"I know it's hard, Sweetie," I tried to be reassuring. "We'll make new friends. It just takes some time."

I decided to take her to the community center after nap time to check into gymnastics class, only to learn the new session won't start until February. We can't wait that long to start making friends. So we went to the ballet school and they said we could start in two weeks--better news, but still too long in L's eyes.

So when N came home, we told him our sob stories over fish, soy beans and rice (and a glass of Shiraz) and L and I felt a little better. Then, upstairs for a warm bath and back down for ice cream cones and "Madeline at the North Pole" on DVD. By 8 p.m., we had finally made it through Thursday.