I’m neither a doctor nor a scientist, but I am beginning to think that it’s entirely possible for a four year old girl to develop PMS.
A certain someone came home from school yesterday mad at the world.
“I fell over in hopscotch.”
“So and so threw me out of the puppet show.”
“Blah and blah are leaving the school and going to a new school.”
“They were all mean to me.”
“My lunch made me puke.”
“I hate these shoes.”
After about twenty minutes of this, she threw herself face down on the couch and wept for a while. Now, I’m in no position to defend the kids’ school, but I am quite certain that none of this happened.
Although M has been announcing to anyone who will listen that we are sleeping through the night for the first time since 2002, I have to report that this same four year old has been crawling into bed with us in the wee small hours. Today at six am, she crept into our room and found her way under our covers. I tried to sleep for a few more precious minutes, but I heard her sniffling.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“Yes, I just have a stuffy nose,” she replied.
“Then go and get a tissue please, your sniffling is keeping me up.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve almost eaten all of the boogers. The one you can hear is the last one. It’s big.”
“Please!” I beg. “You must know that ladies don’t eat boogers.” (I could hear my grandmother’s voice when I said that, although I can say with complete conviction that my grandmother never said the word booger.)
“Too late,” said the four year old. “It’s done.”
And so it was. If forced to choose between fits of premenstrual drama or booger eating, I think I may actually choose the latter.
Sorry Grandma.

Posted in children, parenting, Seattle, Uncategorized on Mar 5, 2013