The Runaway

Welcome to the pointless musings and ramblings that are The Mommasphere, my new blog. Yep, I'm now entering the world of the blog. As if I need one more thing on my To Do list that I can't keep up with! But, here I am.

So, this morning as I was getting ready, my oldest daughter, Sophia, walks into my bathroom with a packed bag and her sleeping bag, and announces that she's "leaving, to go somewhere that no one forces me to get ready." Loverly. Let me back up... See, Sophia is four. Somewhere in the parent books they forget to tell you that four is the year of the 'tude. 'Cause she's bringing it on like mad people. I'm seriously trying to keep my sanity, which is already enough of a challenge. But I digress.

See, Wednesday is gymnastics day at the Y. Sophia loves it. Once we're there, anyway. All of a sudden, my child who couldn't stand to be home for more than three consecutive seconds, has decided that she doesn't like going to classes. They're "boring." She wants to stay home and play. So, on class days, I have quite the challenge motivating her to get dressed, use the potty, brush her teeth, the usual things one does in the morning. This would be less of a challenge if I weren't unmotivated myself to get out of the p.j.'s in the a.m. Seriously, most days I'd be happy to stay in my jammies until bedtime. And yet, the irony that I'm having to light a fire under my little social butterfly to get out of the house, is slightly unamusing. And now, she's giving me grief that I'm "forcing" her to be presentable in public. I should really consider saving the money I spend on her classes and using it for a therapist.