Octavia and I hoofed it home from Lorcan's house on Wednesday. She had gone tumbling at Salto, the gymnasium, with Alex earlier so by the time we had done about .9 of the 1.2 miles home, she was definitely flagging. And less than pleasant. My coping method was to observe the effect on passers-by when they heard a 3-year old shouting "I HATE YOU!" at her mother and baby brother while dragging her little croc boots along the pavements.
We made it! I baked a chocolate chip cookie for her and for Noah who'd returned home as well. Yes, just 1 cookie. I felt a bit Martha Stewart as I'd made the dough earlier in the week and was able to just whip it out of the freezer and throw it in the oven while making a gorgeous dinner, changing a baby, and having elegant arguments with a 9-year old whether one can read and watch a DVD at the same time.
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