I came up with a "great" idea to distract the boys from the nonstop pestering of their fascinating, but frazzled, little sister tonight: somersaulting down the narrow hallway in our rental house. Here was my attempt to get them to do it together, which is actually sort of funny in its failure.
Katrina cottoned onto this activity, and did her silly giggly waddly showoff trot up and down the hall, interfering with her brothers' fun. But when the boys were out of the way, she started somersaulting down the hallway herself! I didn't think she could do that!
Of course, this exercise mostly served to completely rile up the boys, and they were completely out of control for well over half an hour.
I had a really tough evening coming home tonight. Katrina was in good shape, but I had to drop dinner-making and run every few minutes to handle piercing shrieks. Ordinary screeches I've come to ignore, but ones that indicate pain are something else. The boys just wouldn't quit bugging her, and in a time of day when she's already edgy. She got pushed down, a tricycle run into her, pebbles tossed at her, toys put in her way, trapped behind a shed, toys taken out of her hands, blankets put over her head -- and this is all affectionate play! None of it malicious, but none of it welcome, especially not by me. How many times and in how many ways do I have to say L E A V E - H E R - A L O N E!!! Someone remind me why I try so hard to get everyone home early in the evening??