Wit's End

When Eva was first born, Joshua LOVED her. Of course, she didn't move or get into his stuff, so liking her was super easy.

Now it is a rare day when Eva and Joshua get along. So much for all my hopes and dreams they would be best friends...

This morning, Eva and Joshua wandered back to their room ("MY room," Joshua protests.) and within .ooooo1 nano seconds, the screaming began.

I don't know what it is about Eva's screams, but it makes me want to eat whomever is making her do it.

I ran back to their room to see Eva cornered between her dresser and her bed surrounded by blankets she couldn't untangle herself from, and Joshua was throwing puzzle pieces and puzzle boards at her head.

Anytime she screams, I have to assume it is because of Joshua.
Maybe I shouldn't...

After having a is-this-day-EVER-going-to-end??? day, Jeremy came home, we ate dinner (thanks to Micky Dee's), and I sat at the computer looking for solutions to my problems (I love the internet...I would be lost without it...). Jeremy and company started to clean up the rat's nest that was our front room, and put the books and toys back into the glass-doored entertainment center. Then the screaming began.

I whipped around, and there, turning beet red, was Eva. At first I thought she really wanted her books back, but on further inspection her finger was caught in the door. Jeremy rushed over, released her, and brought her to me. I sat and consoled her, she showed me her owie, and then, to my surprise, glared at Joshua and pointed at him.

"It's HIS fault!" She seemed to say.

It's my own fault, I suppose.

When in doubt, blame the kid with the impish grin...