Falling apart, on the floor, kicking and crying.

Yes we've all had those days, but we've seen it more and more in our kids.  The "falling apart, on the floor, kicking, screaming, and crying because I don't know why..." is happening time and time again.   I understand, kids are kids and some are a little more cranky than others.

Let's recall a recent "fall apart day" one of my daughters had.

I'm standing in the kitchen in the early wee hours of morning.  The sky is still dark, the alarms have gone off and the sleepy bed-heads and getting ready to start the day.  As I read over the choices of lunch menu items to the children they cringe in disgust as I mention some sort of misshapen tater tots were on the menu.  Alrighty, bag lunches it is.   I begin the task of making up the three lunches as breakfast is consumed at the table. 

With a minimal, yet obviously devastating conversation; I started said conversation like this:
Me:  "Can you go please get a sweatshirt.  It's chilly out today"
Autumn:  "I don't want to".
Me:  "No, I'm sorry it is chilly out, you need a sweatshirt, or a jacket.  Please go get one."
(daughter drops into a heap of instantaneous cries and uncontrollable conversation rise from the floor)
Me:  "Please go get one or the other.  You choose."
Autumn:   cry whimper...unintelligible jargon continue
Me:  Please move you are laying in front of the refrigerator I need to make your lunches.
Autumn:  cry continues, "Please I want to wear this"
Me:  Please move you are laying in front of the refrigerator.
Autumn:  cry continues.

So you can see where this conversation is going right....yes this goes on for a few minutes.

I know I am a mean mom, making my daughter wear a sweatshirt, in 40-low 50 degree weather.

With one hand on the refrigerator door I threaten a pull of the door. 
"Please move".
The last straw has been used, I open the door to gently push her out of the way.  As she lays flat on the ground below me looking straight up to my eyes I pull on the door.  As the door begins to open the cold air rushes out.  The refrigerator door opens right over her.   That skinny <  40 lbs 6-year old body is laying at my feet and she is so skinny the fridge door brushes right over her.

With a puzzled look on my face I open and shut the door continuously and the house erupts in giggles.  Autumn's cries turn to giggles, my scowled face of a mean mom wanting her child to be warm has welcomed a smile.  The break in the conversation is enjoyed as we laugh out loud.

Who would have thought that you could fit a child under there?