Scene 1: Last night while William was in the shower, Drew was standing on the counter playing with her hair in the mirror while I sat on the floor. It was family bonding time of sorts. Drew says, "William, you know that white sweater with the brown stripe you have? My boyfriend, Luke, has the same sweater." I stopped blinking and stopped breathing. William, the supportive brother, spoke for all of mankind when he quipped, "You don't have a boyfriend!" She said, "Oh, yes I do!" I swallowed and said, "What does that mean... boyfriend?" She said, "It's when it's a boy, and he's your friend, and you loooooove him." Ugh. If she'd been 16 I would have asked who his parents are, does he smoke, does he play sports, what classes does he take, does he drive. Instead I wanted to know if he was kind on the playground to other kids, does he wear a jacket when it's cold, does he spit. Then I realized I was being as ridiculous as Drew. I kind of dropped it and will let William take care of it. But boyfriend? Where did that come from?
Scene 2: This morning while getting dressed Drew declared that she hated the pants I had put out for her. These would be the same pants she's worn all winter. They are khaki and match every single thing she owns. Today she hates them. I fought her on it (1/2 bad mood, 1/2 not wanting to go get something else) until she was crying and I was telling her she was going to go to school in her underpants. I finally realized this is not worth the fight (and if you know me, you know I don't give up) so I said, "Fine, go get something else and get yourself dressed. I don't care what you put on." Soooo, she came down in a pink shirt with flowers, a brown/green/orange skirt, tights that have a huge whole on the side of the knee, and a hot pink jacket. I said, "Are you happy with that?" She said, "Yep." (And for the record, I am all for mismatched funky. This is not that. This is mismatched independence.) End of story. Now the planning ahead, checking for approval, promising to not-do-this-crap in the morning starts. Ugh. 'Cause I don't have other shit going on between 8am and 9am every day of the week.
As I have mentioned many times before, I am sad my children are growing up. Mainly because I love babies. I love sweet little people who love me and let me snuggle them. I love meeting their needs. I don't want them to grow out of that. Now I mourn for a whole new reason. I am not ready for boyfriend talk and fighting over clothes. I mean, really? Already? Crap.
Drew, 1 - Mommy, 0
There are so many days that Skyler hurts my eyeballs. I just do not have the energy to fight her on this. She's so creative and it seems to mean so much to her loving an item of clothing one day, hating it the next, I just can't bring myself to squash that. I do have the "that's dirty" and the "that is not weather appropriate" battles and frequently wonder what her teacher thinks, but overall, I just let her do her thing.
ReplyDeleteIt does kill me when I ADORE an item and she won't wear it. When she favors something I find hideous or that doesn't look like it fits right. I fight that by making these items disappear.
Zack will still wear what I tell him. He truly doesn't care except that long sleeves are not allowed.
punky brewster
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