So, the girl was pushing my and alternatively the hubby's buttons all night. The atmosphere was charged and it was pretty unpleasant. She asked me to play a game with her, but changed the rules to suit herself and got mad when I won. She wasn't listening to any explanations about fairness or following rules, so threw the cards down. I packed them up and went back to my book. Then she asked to play a different game, so I put my book down and we tried that. It was going well, then hubby came home and she jumped up to play with him.
They went out for some shopping and when they came back, I could see he was really stressed out and on edge. She was pouring juice into a sake cup for fun right next to my head and intentionally squirted some on my face. I ran to wash it off and she followed me shouting "I'm sorry" in a not very sorry way. I look my book and went to my room, because I was afraid of what I might say.
Hubby followed to put up a new bar for hanging clothes in the closet. He looked quite stressed out, so I imagined their shopping trip was not very fun. She came in and began yelling. She smelled quite bad, to be honest, so I told her to take a bath. She wanted to sleep with me in my bed and I told her she could if she washed herself first. She started kicking and punching and name calling. To both of us.
Hubby had to pick up the boy from soccer. The girl kept yelling at me, throwing my stuff around the room, banging on the walls, turning the lights on and off, and storming out the door, slamming it behind her. But she kept coming back. I asked her, "What do you want?" but she wouldn't answer, saying she couldn't understand me. Finally, I realized that I should just sit quietly and stop fighting -- she was obviously picking a fight to justify whatever bad feelings were swirling around inside her, provoked by something I'll never know or understand, so I sat. She kicked me in the arm a few times, threatened me with the iron pole that was still not put up in the closet, but I sat quietly and said nothing. She finally stopped, flopped on the bed, said a few more rude things and promptly fell asleep. I covered her up, went downstairs to commune with the hubby and went back to bed.
This morning, like all the times before, it was as if nothing had happened. I greeted her cheerfully, made part of her breakfast for her, and all was peaceful.
It was awful, but there is a part of me that is beginning to detach a bit and see that this is a pattern and that after the storm, the sun rises again. We keep a calendar to mark the stormy days and they are getting further apart. We have to remember that she is driven by forces that we have no idea about. By her not going to her own room last night, she sent a clear message that she needs us when she is in distress and that we are doing the wrong thing by turning her out.
Hard lessons. Tough teacher!