I have 4+ hours of homework in front of me but right now I’d much rather reflect on the last couple of days. Yesterday was Madelyn’s first day of preschool. A bittersweet occasion to put it mildly. To be more accurate, I was a mess. First of all, my stress level has been very much elevated lately due to more of a credit load than I can handle in addition to an internship and an editorial position with our campus journal of the arts. And did I mention that our lease will be up at the end of the month and I am trying to also find us a place to live?
Anyway, when my stress level goes up, my emotions reach a level of complete ridiculousness. So here I am, taking my little girl to this first day of preschool and thinking about her life up until now. She was somewhat emotional all morning; excited to go to school but also more clingy than normal. Once we got to school she wanted me close to her at all times. I gave her a warning that I was going to have to leave shortly and she started crying so I decided to stay a while longer. So I sat through calendar time, and weather time, and music time, and when they were about to start art time, she looked at me and said, “You can go now.” In this tone that made it sound more like, “what are you still doing here?” No hug, no kiss, no need for me at all. So I left.
Yes, I cried as I pulled out of the parking lot, doesn’t everybody? With all that my little girl has done and been for me, it dawned on me that I might need her more than she needs me. At school, one of my professors asked how Madelyn was doing so I filled her in on preschool starting and it being the beginning of the end. We chatted for a while and my professor (who has met Madelyn a couple of times including a 3 hour meeting that she sat through very well-behaved) told me how good my daughter was and how mature and beautiful she was and how I should be so proud of her. Naturally, this made me feel pretty good and as I mentioned, I spent most of the day reflecting on her life and what it has meant to mine. So of course, I had a warm, fuzzy feeling all day and I even slept with her last night. And then we woke up.
Today was nowhere near as warm and fuzzy as yesterday. She woke up in a whiny mood. Always a bad indication. She remained whiny all morning. Late morning, we left to run errands with the pretense that if she stopped whining we would go to McDonald’s before school. She stopped whining. We went to McDonald’s. She ate very well and got to go in the play area but I made it quite clear we had very little time until school. She found a little girl to play with and together they had a great time. I gave her the 2-minute warning and then told her it was time to go. She said she would be right there. Now, here’s the setting. As far as play lands go, this one is on the very large side. It’s a huge room with tunnels running all over the ceiling and some slides coming down. There is one way up and it’s this weird ladder-climby thing. So anyway, she told me she was coming and then didn’t.
I went to the tunnel I suspected her to be in, stood under it, and did the infamous 3-count. “Madelyn, one…,” now normally this gets her right up and moving but being that she couldn’t see me nor I her, she thought she could get away with ignoring me. So she’s in this tunnel, over my head giggling. I tell her that if she doesn’t come down right now she is going to have to take a nap today (she doesn’t usually nap when she only has a half day of daycare/school). She moves toward the ladder-climby thing and even proceeds to climb down. When she is almost to the bottom where I am now standing, she laughs and climbs back up. Now I am furious. Other parents are watching and probably cracking up inside, some even smiled outright. The grandmother of the little girl Madelyn was playing with asked her to come down so that Madelyn would. This didn’t work, instead this girl stood next to me saying, “Madelyn Rose, you get down here right now!” and “I’m serious, Madelyn Rose!”
So with my shadow, I begin the count again and she climbs back down, I reach for her leg and she quickly escapes my grab and climbs back up. There are no words for what I am feeling now as I climb into the play area and grab my daughter’s leg and then carry her out of McDonald’s kicking and giggling. Why is our anger always funny to our kids?
I don’t say a word as I put her in her car seat, shut the door, and get into mine. I start the car, and begin the process of cooling down, beginning with unlocking my jaw. Now she decides it’s no longer funny and she’s going to be mad. “I know that I was naughty, so you don’t even have to tell me!” She continues then by telling me, “It doesn’t matter cuz I’m done with you and this family.”
What? I fire back with the fact that if she’s done with us we are off the hook for her birthday which is in 2 weeks. Now, she’s back-peddling but still angry of course because she’s her father’s daughter and she’s stubborn. So more and more attitude comes flying out of her mouth which I ignore.
When we get to school I put the car in park, turn it off, and turn around in my seat to tell her that she now has to take a nap today. That did it. Her and her enormous attitude crumbled in defeat. She begged and pleaded and promised. I didn’t say much as we walked into school, hung up her backpack and entered her room. But I did tell her teacher that Madelyn had to nap. Again she cried and said she was sorry. I got her calmed down, got her to tell me she loved me, and I left her there for 3 hours hating me. Again, I left the parking lot crying but warm and fuzzy definitely don’t describe what I felt while I was gone.
This story does have a happy ending though. When I picked her up, she came running to me and hugged me. She informed me that she did take a nap and her teacher confirmed. We left school, stopped at the grocery store (without whining!), and when we got home she helped Jake do some cleaning while I made dinner. We all ate dinner together, I watched them play some Wii, she rubbed lotion on my feet, and then we tucked her into bed and we were a happy family again. At least until the next time one of us pisses someone off.
Anyway, when my stress level goes up, my emotions reach a level of complete ridiculousness. So here I am, taking my little girl to this first day of preschool and thinking about her life up until now. She was somewhat emotional all morning; excited to go to school but also more clingy than normal. Once we got to school she wanted me close to her at all times. I gave her a warning that I was going to have to leave shortly and she started crying so I decided to stay a while longer. So I sat through calendar time, and weather time, and music time, and when they were about to start art time, she looked at me and said, “You can go now.” In this tone that made it sound more like, “what are you still doing here?” No hug, no kiss, no need for me at all. So I left.
Yes, I cried as I pulled out of the parking lot, doesn’t everybody? With all that my little girl has done and been for me, it dawned on me that I might need her more than she needs me. At school, one of my professors asked how Madelyn was doing so I filled her in on preschool starting and it being the beginning of the end. We chatted for a while and my professor (who has met Madelyn a couple of times including a 3 hour meeting that she sat through very well-behaved) told me how good my daughter was and how mature and beautiful she was and how I should be so proud of her. Naturally, this made me feel pretty good and as I mentioned, I spent most of the day reflecting on her life and what it has meant to mine. So of course, I had a warm, fuzzy feeling all day and I even slept with her last night. And then we woke up.
Today was nowhere near as warm and fuzzy as yesterday. She woke up in a whiny mood. Always a bad indication. She remained whiny all morning. Late morning, we left to run errands with the pretense that if she stopped whining we would go to McDonald’s before school. She stopped whining. We went to McDonald’s. She ate very well and got to go in the play area but I made it quite clear we had very little time until school. She found a little girl to play with and together they had a great time. I gave her the 2-minute warning and then told her it was time to go. She said she would be right there. Now, here’s the setting. As far as play lands go, this one is on the very large side. It’s a huge room with tunnels running all over the ceiling and some slides coming down. There is one way up and it’s this weird ladder-climby thing. So anyway, she told me she was coming and then didn’t.
I went to the tunnel I suspected her to be in, stood under it, and did the infamous 3-count. “Madelyn, one…,” now normally this gets her right up and moving but being that she couldn’t see me nor I her, she thought she could get away with ignoring me. So she’s in this tunnel, over my head giggling. I tell her that if she doesn’t come down right now she is going to have to take a nap today (she doesn’t usually nap when she only has a half day of daycare/school). She moves toward the ladder-climby thing and even proceeds to climb down. When she is almost to the bottom where I am now standing, she laughs and climbs back up. Now I am furious. Other parents are watching and probably cracking up inside, some even smiled outright. The grandmother of the little girl Madelyn was playing with asked her to come down so that Madelyn would. This didn’t work, instead this girl stood next to me saying, “Madelyn Rose, you get down here right now!” and “I’m serious, Madelyn Rose!”
So with my shadow, I begin the count again and she climbs back down, I reach for her leg and she quickly escapes my grab and climbs back up. There are no words for what I am feeling now as I climb into the play area and grab my daughter’s leg and then carry her out of McDonald’s kicking and giggling. Why is our anger always funny to our kids?
I don’t say a word as I put her in her car seat, shut the door, and get into mine. I start the car, and begin the process of cooling down, beginning with unlocking my jaw. Now she decides it’s no longer funny and she’s going to be mad. “I know that I was naughty, so you don’t even have to tell me!” She continues then by telling me, “It doesn’t matter cuz I’m done with you and this family.”
What? I fire back with the fact that if she’s done with us we are off the hook for her birthday which is in 2 weeks. Now, she’s back-peddling but still angry of course because she’s her father’s daughter and she’s stubborn. So more and more attitude comes flying out of her mouth which I ignore.
When we get to school I put the car in park, turn it off, and turn around in my seat to tell her that she now has to take a nap today. That did it. Her and her enormous attitude crumbled in defeat. She begged and pleaded and promised. I didn’t say much as we walked into school, hung up her backpack and entered her room. But I did tell her teacher that Madelyn had to nap. Again she cried and said she was sorry. I got her calmed down, got her to tell me she loved me, and I left her there for 3 hours hating me. Again, I left the parking lot crying but warm and fuzzy definitely don’t describe what I felt while I was gone.
This story does have a happy ending though. When I picked her up, she came running to me and hugged me. She informed me that she did take a nap and her teacher confirmed. We left school, stopped at the grocery store (without whining!), and when we got home she helped Jake do some cleaning while I made dinner. We all ate dinner together, I watched them play some Wii, she rubbed lotion on my feet, and then we tucked her into bed and we were a happy family again. At least until the next time one of us pisses someone off.
