My homecoming on Saturday was wonderful. I was greeted with a Welcome Home banner and balloons:
And also with a cake (made by Tim’s mom), and a homemade sign made by David:
Margaret ran into the living room, giggling her Margaret giggle, which continued for minutes.
And then the real fun began.
Margaret has decided to punish me for being away for a week. She’s on me like white on rice. She wants to be carried everywhere, and she throws a tantrum if I put her down for any reason. (Last night when I put her down to make dinner, she screamed, “I want uppies” about a hundred times. I am not exaggerating.) She cries all the time. Real tears. Not fake tears. She wants to sit on my lap every time I’m sitting down. (I draw the line in the bathroom, so she stand outside screaming at the top of her lungs.) She orders me around, and if I don’t do exactly as she wants, she cries and screams, choosing a phrase to repeat over and over again, with increasing volume. She is on my last nerve.
David is able to tell me how much he missed me, and so he’s pretty normal. Emma really minded my being gone (of course, it’s fine if she travels for two weeks without me, but when she’s the one left behind, it’s another story. She wanted me to promise never to leave the country again without her.) But like David, Emma can voice her sadness.
But Margaret is going to make me pay. It’s almost like she’s testing me to see if she can misbehave so much that it will make me leave again.
It both breaks my heart and is so damn frustrating, at the same time. At times I think that if I hear her repeat the same phrase one more time, I’m going to go out of my mind.
My mother would say that it’s payback for when my parents went to Germany when I was five, and I refused to let her out of my side for over a week.
I know that we will both live through this. And that she will go back to normal within a few days. And there will come a day when she won’t miss me when I’m gone (or if she does, she won’t admit it.)
God, give me strength.