Lydia Doesn't Hate Me, She Hates You

You, as in, the general public.

Our morning started off with a happy Lydie Kate.  Content.  Playful.  Active.  Happy happy happy.

Kyra had riding lessons shortly after the ass crack of dawn which didn't bother Lydia one bit because that meant all she had to do is wonder around the grass and entertain herself while all eyes were on Krya.  I'm coming to find she's at her happiest this way, NOT to be the center of the general public's attention, that is.

Then the girls and I had a play date with a couple of kids at a park this morning.  Mind you, we essentially amounted to THE ONLY PEOPLE IN THE WHOLE DAMNED PARK except that, Hey, Mom!  Did you know there are these two boys playing with MY SISTER and generally want nothing to do with ME, but really- that'sbesidesthepoint- because the POINT IS is that there are people here and no one checked their security clearance with ME and who the fuck told them they could come play at the park with US?  

Lydia bitched, she moaned, groaned and cried for the entire 2 1/2 hours of this park adventure.   And there I was, baffled.  For the life of me I couldn't figure out what was wrong with here.  Shoving food into her desperately signing hands was not what she wanted (even though she was specifically asking for food).  Refilling her cup after she drained it and then started shaking it while furiously shouting baby babble expletives at me did not quash the little midget's fury. 

Wanna know what stopped the anger?  GOING HOME.

Upon arriving home she was back to her darling little happy and playful self.  All sweet and endearing and lovable once again. 

The child, I swear, is anti socialization.  She is happy and content to stay at home-- or at the very least in a 5 mile radius --and remain a hermit for the rest of her existence.  It's only taken me one day shy of 19 months to figure this out.

Clearly, I'm a quick learner.