What do you get when you cross an elephant and a parrot?

The answer:  Ella.

By now you likely realize that Ella picks up on and remembers most everything.  Just yesterday, she correctly used the phrase, "the other day" and told me in the car that, "I want to hold Benjamin's hand.  He's right by me, but I can't reach him!"  Her verbal skills are intriguing and frightening all at once.  The rather prominent downside to that is that she keeps reminding me of my parenting gaffs... and I have had quite a few of those lately.  My mood has left something to be desired for the past few weeks.  I'm trying, but sleep deprivation (yes, I am still using that excuse) does not look pretty on me at all.

So one day last week I really wanted to get the kids to the park.  This was before I realized that things go much better around here when I have no expectations for how the day will run and I was rushing, rushing... to go to the park.  Really, it is absurd now that I think of it, but I keep holding myself to the One Child Standard of getting out the door in a timely fashion long before 11 am.  Of course, I am tired and as I rush, I am forgetting things, dropping things and tripping over the ever-present litter of toys and books (half of which belong to Benjamin because Ella cannot resist his things).  I snapped at Ella for not getting her shoes on -- which she had actually done and instantly felt terrible for raising my voice and being so mean to her.  I apologized (managing not to cry, which is good because I had makeup on for the first time in days -- to go to the park -- and did not want mascara all down my face) and told her that I was very sorry for yelling at her.  The apology did not seem to make much of an impact.

Now, while I have adjusted my expectations for getting things done, I still get frustrated and trip over things and drop things and get REALLY annoyed when I have three puddles of cat puke to clean up first thing in the morning -- of which I have stepped in.  (Anyone want a cat or two?)  And when I groan in frustration or curse the cats (with nice words, of course), Ella comes running into the room and tells me in her whiniest voice (which is incredibly whiny), "I'm sorry you yelled, Mommy!" over and over until I tell her that I am sorry, too.  Ugh.

I get frustrated a lot and make a noise... it is a noise my dad makes and I can most easily describe it as a loud "BAH!".  Every time... "I'm sorry you yelled, Mommy!"  Oh man.  

But she cannot remember that I just told her not to throw banana peels on the floor.  And so it begins.