So today Ry was bummed about not being able to go play b/c of her "illness" (whatever it may be). She stomped defiantly, declaring, "How will everyone be able to tell me how cute I am if I can't leave the house? They will be so sad!"
This coming from the daughter of the woman who used to skip classes in college if I didn't like the way I looked. Freud?
I gave in and took them on a walk (Ry pushed her Barbies in her stroller; I got stuck with Jax). Halfway through, after breathing as deeply as friggin' possible through 7 tantrums, 4 squeals, and 3 dirt-kicks, I exerted my Mommy Authority and declared we were turning around and going home, to which Ryan declared, "Fine! I don't love you anymore! You are the worst Mom ever!!!"
Then, she ran her mini-Graco right into my ankles.
Between that one and Mr. Incredible Rolling Baby, I may need a wheelchair sooner than I thought.