One five year old girl

So, I am a little behind. Paige's pre-school graduation was months ago. But summer is here and we are basking in it for as long as we can, us D-trackers. And in a few short weeks this little girly will be starting kindergarten. It makes me especially sad. Or it did back when these pictures were taken. Way back in May when I sat through this program and cried, real tears streaming down my cheeks as she threw her cap in the air.

But that was before a little demon took over my daughters body. This is the theory we are going with since I refuse to believe that my sweet Paigey could be this evil on her own. Don't let those little blond pigtails fool you, this girl is on a mission to destroy and right about now, kindergarten is sounding pretty good. So let me take you on a trip down memory lane and recount the last 3 weeks of mischief this girl has put us through.

It started one evening while the children were home alone. Jeff was at church and I was at a friends Norwex party. I told them I would only be gone for one hour. I was down the street. And Jeffrey is ten. And Owen is responsible. And they were watching a movie in the basement. They would be fine. But who knew that cleaning cloths could be so captivating? And I was gone a little more than an hour. Just a little. And I walked into the door with all 4 children screaming at the top of their lungs. Screa-ming. One child screaming is normal, even two. All four together had me mildly concerned. So I went downstairs and there it was. Paige's door, completely ripped off the hinges. Screws and little wood shavings lying on the floor. And a door no longer attached to the wall. There was no explanation. Paige was inside the door, the boys were not. And this was the outcome.

Fast forward two days and we are cleaning the house for my cousin and her family to come and stay. I left the comet in the bathroom downstairs after cleaning the toilet. This was my first mistake. The vacuum was on upstairs, and Paige was nowhere to be seen. So I turned the vacuum off and it was too quiet. The kind of quiet that piques your mommy radar and you know that something is amiss. So I went downstairs and smelled it. Comet. So overwhelmingly comet-ish that I could see a little white cloud coming from underneath the bathroom door. She had locked herself in. Again. And the water was flowing. I knocked and knocked. She ignored. And ignored. I knocked harder. Another door in danger. I yelled as loud as I could with two contractors upstairs and four more outside. She was lucky. And finally she opened the door. The sink was overflowing. And filled with an entire can of white powder. With a little girl standing on her pink stool, stirring that cauldron of murky water, covered in comet from head to toe with a nice big white ring around her mouth. Her mouth. I know, so gross. So I sent her to her room with no door and we both had a nice long time out.

Then those cute cousins came. And they loved and hated each other all at once. Like little girls do. And after the antics of the last few days I decided to put her make-up up and away in her closet, out of reach. The make-up that comes inside princess tubes and bottles and stains everything in sight bright pink. That make-up. They were downstairs watching a movie. (And that may be the root of all our problems here.) The make-up was up in the closet. And I just happened to go down. And there they were, painting their fingernails, glossing their lips, blushing their faces to rosy perfection. It was funny, really. And then I saw the carpet. Covered in fingernail polish. And the curtains. Covered in lip gloss. And I took a deep breath. And cleaned it up.

Which seemed to be the new theme in the Blackmun household. I turned my back and Paige was the silent whirlwind that I cleaned up after. If I could. She has left a little trail of terror behind her. And taught us several valuable lessons. So, in case you haven't learned this one yet, I will be happy to impart our hard earned knowledge. Waterproof sunscreen does not come off of wood floors. Because it is waterproof. And when your daughter decides to spray an entire can of sunscreen on that newly finished wood floor, you will have to live with it. Even a Norwex cloth does not help. You're welcome.

So, you would think that was the end, right? Doors ripped off the hinges, comet clouds, makeup on the carpet, sunscreen on the floors. What more could one little girl do? One more thing actually. One more, huge naughty thing. We are doing some renovating around here. New bathrooms and flooring and backyard stuff. And counter tops. Lovely new granite counter tops. The counter tops I had been dreaming of for 7 years. And in the process of getting those counter tops, all of our junk drawers were taken out and I just couldn't put them back in looking the way they did. So, I began to organize. Superglue here, paper clips there, and a hammer that needed to find a home in the garage. So, there it sat in the meantime. A big blue hammer on those pretty new counter tops. And apparently it was just too much for one little five year old girl to pass up. And I turned around just as the hammer hit. A big, cracking, thumping sound. I didn't yell, I was too shocked. She ran to her room. And I looked, expecting to find something horrible. And there was nothing. Not a crack. Not a chip. Just one very naughty girl in a room with no door. And a momma who is ready for that little girl to start kindergarten.