My sister came to visit for a few days. The boys were so excited about her visiting and the party that it was a bit like having two Tasmanian devils in the house all weekend. After we dropped her off at the airport they were a mess of torturing each other in the car - stealing toys from their car seats, crying, screaming. It was awful. Finally taking Theo to school he broke down in sobs, and I asked if he was sad because his aunt went home, and he pitifully nodded yes as tears rolled down his cheeks. Oh, these little kids. It's so easy to forget that they can't regulate their emotions yet. In my better moments I remember this and am kind and gentle; in my worse moments I bark at them to stop driving me crazy. Sigh. And so it goes.
In other news, despite my decision not to invite any preschool friends to the party, Bobby has received an invitation...from his "frenemy", the class bully who's parents voted for Trump. What to do? Do I really want to spend the day in the presence of these a-holes and their rotten kid? No, but I must, because it's not about me, it's about Bobby, and he wants to go, and so we will. Can't say I won't wear my Uppity Women Unite pin, though.