# 176 They Grow Up So Fast...

I'm not even going to address the time between now and my previous blog post.

I will, however, say thank you for all the positive, uplifting words that were said about the blog post last week regarding Parker and her "grandmother".  She's had a tough time these last few weeks and we really appreciate all the love you've sent her way.  And we appreciate those of you who have voted in the poll on the first page.  Parker's anxious to find out what she'll be calling her gammy and we will close the voting soon and find out.

Obviously, that post hit a nerve with a lot of you readers-- perhaps there are some unresolved mother issues out there?   Seriously, people, that's something you need to discuss with your therapists.  My therapist has her hands full already.  But, it was really fun to get all the fun feedback from your comments and texts and facebook messages.  I love it when that happens!

Unfortunately, today's blog post isn't nearly as fun.  Its also not nearly as kind to Parker.  This weekend, Parker and I headed east (sidenote: I literally had to point out north-south-west-east with my hands just now to figure out which direction I was going!) to Franklin Tennessee to visit Aunt Betsy and "Grandmother" Deb for the weekend.  I'm not happy with myself in that I totally forgot my camera.  Which I have just realized was actually in my trunk the entire weekend.  Oh well, you live, you learn.

Since I now have every other Monday off, Parker and I didn't come back until yesterday evening-- we rolled into Cleveland about 8 p.m., and it was slightly sprinkling as we unloaded.  Our new neighbor was across the street with his dog, Boston (a Boston Terrier.  Clever.)  and we went over to meet and sniff them.  Of course, Parker met them and I sniffed them.

Then, I take Parker inside and this is when the fun begins.  I walk back outside and start to unload the backseat, and I look up, across the vehicle and I see Parker, strolling across the yard, stopping to literally smell the flowers.  I throw all my stuff down and try to get her to stop.  She doesn't.  This won't come as a surprise to anyone who has met Parker.  Or me.  I'm not what you might call a "strict disciplinarian" with her.  I'm not really what you would even call a "disciplinarian."  I prefer to be her friend instead.

I continue to call after her, and she continues to ignore me.  I begin walking faster down the sidewalk, in the increasingly harder rain, in my flip flops (seriously, it is impossible to run in wet flip flops.  Just impossible.).  Parker continues to ignore me, and lets me get right close to her and then she runs off.  My new neighbors is across the street, still with Boston the Boston Terrier, and I'm pretty sure he's now doubled over laughing.  Luckily for everyone, I'm able to grab Parker a few yards down, in mid-business.  It wasn't pretty.

I hold onto her and head back to the house, all the while realizing that now we both stink really badly-- one wet, sweaty human and one wet, sweaty dog.  Plus, Parker has mud all over her entire legs, thanks to my neighbors being quite lenient in the grass-cutting department.  I pick up the rest of my stuff, which is sprawled all over the driveway where I threw it when I saw Parker, and I have Parker under one arm, about to drop her.  I head inside, muttering under my breath,  fussing at her, taking a break to smile and wave at my new neighbor, who officially thinks I'm nuts.

I drop Parker off inside, and fuss at her and then head back outside to get the rest of the stuff from the car.  I come back inside and Parker is nowhere to be found.  I look everywhere.  In all her favorite places.  Behind the pink chair.  In the bathtub.  Under m bedside table.  I'm not making this up, people.

She's nowhere.  I panic.  I'm calling her, offering treats, offering to take her outside.  I'm doing everything I can think of and she's nowhere.  I begin to worry that perhaps she's snuck outside when I went back out the last time.  I open the door, go outside, look around.  Come back inside, start begging for her to come out.

Finally, after about 5 full minutes of this, she walks out.  From under my bed.  Without a care in the world.  Chewing on the top of my most favorite chapstick that I had just dropped on the floor earlier and is now nowhere to be found, either.

I'm furious.  What a brat.  We get into a huge fight.  I tell her she's lazy, that she never helps around the house.  She says I embarrass her in public and she doesn't want to invite her friends over.   I scream that I carried her around for 9 days when she was sick that one time and my body's never been the same.  She retorts that I'm ruining her life and she hates me.   I tell her she's more than welcome to go live with her "grandmother" or the Mayor and not to get an attitude with me.  She screams something about me not understanding her and threatens to get a nose ring.  I tell her to go to her room.  She points out that she doesn't have a room, and that I obviously don't love her or want to her to be happy.  Blah Blah Blah.

It ends with her, trying to calm down in the bedroom while I silently fume (and watch Next Food Network Star) in the living room.  At bedtime, I head to the bedroom, and I see her, laying in the exact middle of the bed.  I climb in bed, arrange myself around her, so as not to disturb her.  I start reading.

She immediately jumps down to the floor.  Where she stays all night long.

This picture pretty much sums it all up.  It wasn't taken last night, but it certainly is an accurate representation of her behavior:

Chick's Crazy.

I think we've kinda made up now, although I did threaten to take her toys away earlier if they weren't cleaned up and she rolled her eyes.  I'm sure that someday, she will realized how much I love her and how much I've sacrificed for her.  And if not, I'll just send her to live with Dutter.  Or Bapchi.

(Blogger's Note:  It is interesting to note that this lashing out of bratty behavior started after a weekend spend with Aunt Betsy and "grandmother".  Someone suggested that it might be that she was mad at me for making her stay up there with them.  Actually, I was the one who suggested that.  But it might be true.  Coincidence?)