Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Even Berks can get a little bitchy if she thinks I’m having too much fun too often without her.
She may heart the Slayer outing photos; however, I definitely get playful but serious “don’t make me run them over with reindeer” style texts.
“Do you think using our hurt hands was a good idea?” I emotionlessly inquire at the same time I fold my hands back into my lap.
She shakes her head.
“Do you think she’s going to want to be friends with you if you push her down like you did?”
She quickly shakes her head again.
“Okay.” My face cranes slightly forward. “First, you’re going to go to your quiet space for three minutes to think about words to say to Kara at school on Monday. Next, I’m going to come upstairs to talk about what things we can do to express our feelings when we’re upset. Last, Daddy will come upstairs for hugs and to listen and to help us if we need more help. Got it?”
Bella nods prior to repeating back, “First quiet for words. Next talk with Nanny Joey. Last Daddy hugs and help.”
“Da,” Igor quietly comments. “Very good.”
His daughter tries to smile, but it falls short.
Can’t say I’m surprised.
She isn’t a big fan of disappointing him.
“Nanny Joey…” she slowly begins causing my head to tilt in suspicion. “Can I check on Kitty before I go to quiet space?”
“We don’t have a kitty,” her father immediately denies.
“No,” I reply to the small person, eyes still glued on hers.
“We better not have a kitty,” Igor continues under his breath to me.
“But I wanna check on Kitty!” Bella pouts and unhappily folds her arms.
“I don’t want a kitty,” he complains a little louder near my ear.
“And you using your outside voice to tell me that, Bella, is not going to change my mind.”
“Mean Nanny Joey!” She rudely shouts at the top of her lungs. “Mean! Mean!”
Yup.
I’m a monster because I won’t reward her shit behavior.
Go figure.
“Those are your feelings,” I calmly insist, expression unchanged. “And they are yours to have. You may take them with you to your quiet space and spend time with them there as well. I’ll even give you an extra minute or two for them.”
“Idontwantextraminute!” She shoots to her feet sobbing. “Idontwantextraminute!”
“You may use your big girl walking feet to get to your space or I will take you there.”
“No!”
Repeating myself in the same unbothered tone occurs. “You may use your big girl walking feet or-”
“No!”
“Okay.” It’s my turn to stand. “Because you will not use your own big girl walking feet, I am placing hands on your body to move you to your space.”
“No! No! No!” Her wild thrashing is expected – after all she’s a preschooler throwing a tantrum – however the look of horror on her dad’s face is not.
Sometimes I forget that seeing these moments are few and far between because he’s a video chat dad.
He primarily only gets the good shit.
The cute shit.
The I miss you shit.
Similar to what he gets from the woman he’s dating long distance.
Relocating a kicking, screaming, melting down Bella – who is probably going to wear herself out into an impromptu nap – to the upstairs loft doesn’t take long yet getting her to stay in the designated area is more than a commercial break.
By the time she’s reached a manageable level, her DNA donor has skyrocketed the other way, a little fact he reveals to me the instant I step foot into the kitchen. “How the fuck could you do this shit without my permission?!”
“First of all, tiny ears, tiny words.”
“She’s upstairs!”
“And not effing deaf so watch your mouth.” A sharp finger point is directed in his direction. “And watch your volume. I didn’t raise my voice at Bella, I’m not raising my voice at you, so I will not tolerate either of you raising your voices at me.” My hands falling to my hips are accompanied by a harsh glare. “Am I making myself heard?”
Despite whatever has unleashed his Grinch side, he braces his palms on the island and grunts, “Da.”
“Good.” I flick a curl away from my forehead. “Now, what are you upset I did without your permission? Discipline her? Because that’s part of the job and you signed waivers agreeing to my particular guidance style.”
“Kot.”
Only because of how the word sounds is it easy for me to decipher. “We didn’t get a cat.”
“Good because I don’t want a goddamn cat.”
“Good because we didn’t get one.”
“I don’t want any pet, Joeski.”
“And you don’t technically have any Pet, Ig.”
“What do you mean technically?” His eyes instantly narrow. “That ish better not just be a technicality because it’s Bella’s pet because that ish would still legally be mine since I’m her father!”
“What did I just say about your tone?”
“Don’t try to parent me right now!”
“Don’t need to be parented.”