8/13/12
My daughter has now officially begun crying wolf. She will let loose with the same wail and torrent from her eyeballs whether she has fallen face first onto sandpaper, or if she has to leave her cousins house early. It is something that we really need to work on, because I am developing a callousness to her laments. Today she cried piteously when she lost her balloon, the tears threatening to fill the inside of our Highlander. They were cut off immediately as soon as I offered a spongebob pushup yogurt Popsicle, which suggests they were possibly manufactured rather than triggered by an actual emotional need. Then, at her gymnastics practice, I had to go outside and feed Miles, when I was interrupted by a screaming and crying Isla accompanied by one of the teenage gymnastics instructors. She told me Isla had dropped off the high bar without telling the teacher she was ready, and fell face first onto the mat. Seeing as her response was the exact same volume and intensity as the loss of a balloon, I found it hard to muster the correct level of sympathy. The barometer has to be ice cream. If ice cream is offered and there is no change in mood, she's seriously in trouble. Otherwise, whatever, Isla.
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