Today was a rough day.
Miss G’s dad called about Thanksgiving. He wants to take Miss G to Florida to visit his folks. Fine, no problem. He says he wants to be there a week, Sunday to Sunday. I say, great. Then I look at a calendar.
“Uhh, that’s the weekend of the Phoenix Faerie Festival,” I say. “We’ve been planning on driving over, meeting my sister there, then visiting my folks in Tucson after. Could you fly out Monday instead?”
He scoffs, tells me tickets are cheaper if he leaves Sunday. I’m bummed, but I agree that time with him is more important. I warn him, “She might be stressed about missing school. She’s been on a kick about that lately.” He scoffs again, and buys the tickets anyway.
Miss G comes home and calls her dad. She’s in tears within about a minute and a half. He’s furious that she’s not thrilled. She’s inconsolable over missing fairies and freaked because he’s mad. Both are asking me to explain the other. (Funny I should have to; they’re exactly alike.)
Ruffled feelings were eventually smoothed, though not without many tears. And, in at least one case, ice cream.
One of the worst lies we tell our kids is how easy they have it, these are the best days, enjoy it now. Grown-ups who say this must have forgotten what it’s like to be kids, forgotten the powerless feeling of having no say in their own lives. Kids go where they have to, do what they’re told, and get in trouble if they dare to ask why.
Remember? Remember hating school, thinking your parents didn’t care when you tried to show them your new something-or-other while they were making dinner and they got irritated, not understanding why you had to go to some lame wedding on the weekend instead of riding bikes with your friend down the street?
It’s really hard being a kid. But it doesn’t take much from us to make it easier. Put down the spatula. Turn off the phone and give 30 minutes of undivided attention. Even 10 makes a difference. Hang out. Watch a cartoon. Make their day.
Miss G’s dad called about Thanksgiving. He wants to take Miss G to Florida to visit his folks. Fine, no problem. He says he wants to be there a week, Sunday to Sunday. I say, great. Then I look at a calendar.
“Uhh, that’s the weekend of the Phoenix Faerie Festival,” I say. “We’ve been planning on driving over, meeting my sister there, then visiting my folks in Tucson after. Could you fly out Monday instead?”
He scoffs, tells me tickets are cheaper if he leaves Sunday. I’m bummed, but I agree that time with him is more important. I warn him, “She might be stressed about missing school. She’s been on a kick about that lately.” He scoffs again, and buys the tickets anyway.
Miss G comes home and calls her dad. She’s in tears within about a minute and a half. He’s furious that she’s not thrilled. She’s inconsolable over missing fairies and freaked because he’s mad. Both are asking me to explain the other. (Funny I should have to; they’re exactly alike.)
Ruffled feelings were eventually smoothed, though not without many tears. And, in at least one case, ice cream.
One of the worst lies we tell our kids is how easy they have it, these are the best days, enjoy it now. Grown-ups who say this must have forgotten what it’s like to be kids, forgotten the powerless feeling of having no say in their own lives. Kids go where they have to, do what they’re told, and get in trouble if they dare to ask why.
Remember? Remember hating school, thinking your parents didn’t care when you tried to show them your new something-or-other while they were making dinner and they got irritated, not understanding why you had to go to some lame wedding on the weekend instead of riding bikes with your friend down the street?
It’s really hard being a kid. But it doesn’t take much from us to make it easier. Put down the spatula. Turn off the phone and give 30 minutes of undivided attention. Even 10 makes a difference. Hang out. Watch a cartoon. Make their day.
Loved this (not that there was drama in your family, of course, but that you are capable of solving it)! I do remember it being hard being a kid, and I find that it is surprisingly hard being an adult too. I even suspect it will continue being hard being a person until, you know, I cease being a person.
ReplyDeleteAt least it is comforting to know there are people out there who understand this - supportive friends and family is the key to survive the problems life hands us, whether they are small or big.
Perfectly said, Cruella. Thank you. :)
ReplyDelete