Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Ainsleigh is a lunatic.

She and Donovan decided to go jump on the trampoline yesterday afternoon in snowsuits and boots with four inches of snow on the ground and a temperature of about 28 degrees in the air. Super, I thought, I need to make dinner anyway. They had an uproarious time out there, bouncing the snow around, the weight distribution of which made the surface look more like a waterbed. They played and they played while I roasted and basted and even fired up my kitchen torch (what, you don't have one in your collection? plebeian) and I luxuriated in the beautiful calm while Gemma squawked and kept me company.


Donovan opens the back door, clutching one of Ainsleigh's mittens and says I need to help Ainsleigh put said mitten back on. I glance at the time and at his very pink cheeks and tell him they should just come in for dinner. He backs out the door and yells as much to Ainsleigh. That's when my ears pick up the sound of her wailing, not unlike the perhaps-possessed fox that wandered howling through our neighborhood last week. So I tell Ainsleigh to come inside and warm up. She can't, she says. She's trapped on the trampoline and her exposed hand is cold. REALLY cold. I try to instruct her to turn around and back out of the crawl-space in the net. She caaaaaaaaaaan't. Just DO it. But my haaaaaaaaaand! How hard can this be, I'm thinking. She is beside herself, screaming that she's trapped and will have to stay out there forever. Gah! If there's one thing I don't have patience for, it's superlative whining. (ok fine, there are many things I don't have patience for, but for the sake of today, it's this one)

Ultimately, I don my snow boots, march out there, and extract her from the frozen cage of misery. Since she was convinced she would spend eternity out there, you'd think some kind of gratitude would be in order. I'm a veritable hero! Oh no. As is par for the course lately, upon returning inside and closing the door on the below-freezing temperatures, she begins to blame Donovan. For MAKING her go outside. This is the stupidest thing I've heard since the last stupid thing she said. And, again, I have no patience for it. You're almost SEVEN YEARS OLD, for crying out loud. I ask her, "When you're in the shower and the water gets hotter and hotter, do you stand there and start crying or do you GET OUT?!" Duh. She continues to spew outrageous claims and I continue to have zero patience. With this kind of logic, words cannot express how much I dread the teenage years.

But I've got a kitchen torch and Donovan thinks I'm the coolest mom ever (that may or may not be related to the former). So that's something.

To (partially) redeem her, here's what she was looking and acting like the previous night (I am not even exaggerating when I say that tooth has been loose for the past FIVE MONTHS. ridiculous):

Her other upper tooth, which was actually loose before this lost one, is now getting LESS loose. I anticipate Gemma getting teeth before Ainsleigh loses another.


laura said...

Ahahahaha, the snow trampoline looks like so much fun! And yay for one of those ridiculous teeth finally coming out!

Lisa said...

Man, that is one title that sure draws you in :)

I love the videos--they are even cuter moving than when frozen solid :)

The Johnson Family of Colorado said...


Paul, Laura and I just read your entry and watched the video. Yeah, watch out for those teenaged years! Too funny!

Plebians, with no blow torch in our kitchen.