I'm Suppose to Love My Child, Right?
The other day, I woke up to what I thought for sure would be a good morning. I got out of bed and started my routine: waking the children up for school, preparing their clothes and toothbrushes, and finally dressing my baby for daycare; when I was invaded by my six year old daughter half dressed and wanting to play with her little brother.
"Did you brush your teeth," I said to her, trying to buy myself a little more time to put on my son's shirt.
"yes," she said as she lovingly nearly yanked his arm out of socket. My son started to scream at the top of his lungs.
"Go to your room," I screeched as I picked up my son to comfort him.
After I calmed him down, I heard a faint cry in the background, that became louder, and louder, and louder, until it was at a level that would shame the mothers that scream and cheer for their children at soccer games.
"What's wrong, dear," I said, as I tried to think of a happy place.
"I want to talk to dad, I want to talk to dad, I want to talk to dad..."
"He's at work," I said as if this would make a difference. My six year old continued to ask for her dad as I sent her back to her room. Finally, I could not take it, I called her dad. And ofcourse, he did not answer. At this point, I have heard "I want to talk to dad" atleast a million times. And I go back into her room for round three (she has me on the ropes).
"Why don't you stay home from school today, there is no way you are going to stay on green with that behavior, and I don't want to give your teacher a hard time, since you are having such a bad morning," I said trying to give her my best and brightest smile.
Suddenly, the "I want to talk to dad" chants came to a hault. "Finally," I thought, and as I began to walk away I was immmediately stopped in my tracks. "I want to learn, I want to learn, I want to learn,"
At that very moment, my life flash before my eyes. What have I done so wrong that I have to endure this. This is not right. There is an injustice taking place, right here in my daughter's room, and no one is here to witness this but me. I know that it is time for me to walk away. And I do. I go downstairs to prepare a bowl of cereal (since this is all we have time for now) for my seven year old son. And out of the corner of my eye, there she is. "Mommy, please let me go to school, I will be good I promise." I throw in the flag and say "OK, but you better listen today. I don't want a call from your teacher." I said as I sit her bowl of cereal in front of her.
"I don't want this cereal, I want the same cereal as my brother," she says. As she begins to cry again. "Did you get all of your sleep last night?" I asked.
"no, I want to learn, I want to learn..." I turn to look at the clock, and we have five minutes before it is time to leave. At this point, I have the option of getting a three hour break (she's in half day kindergarten) or dealing with this for the entire day. I decide to let her go to school.
"go grab your backpack" I said.
We walk to the bus stop and when her bus arrives, I wave goodbye to her as I wonder what was I thinking when I decided to have kids. And I go home, with my baby boy tow.
The three hours go by a lot faster than I would have wanted, and I unwillingly go back to start the second half of my day.
The bus pulls in, and she hops off, waving a piece of paper in hand, "I got green, I got green" she says as she smiles so big that I can't help to smile back.
"I told you, I would get green, she says.
"yes, you sure did, high five," I said. Enjoying the walk home, and this memory, while the memory of this morning fades into the distant past
"Did you brush your teeth," I said to her, trying to buy myself a little more time to put on my son's shirt.
"yes," she said as she lovingly nearly yanked his arm out of socket. My son started to scream at the top of his lungs.
"Go to your room," I screeched as I picked up my son to comfort him.
After I calmed him down, I heard a faint cry in the background, that became louder, and louder, and louder, until it was at a level that would shame the mothers that scream and cheer for their children at soccer games.
"What's wrong, dear," I said, as I tried to think of a happy place.
"I want to talk to dad, I want to talk to dad, I want to talk to dad..."
"He's at work," I said as if this would make a difference. My six year old continued to ask for her dad as I sent her back to her room. Finally, I could not take it, I called her dad. And ofcourse, he did not answer. At this point, I have heard "I want to talk to dad" atleast a million times. And I go back into her room for round three (she has me on the ropes).
"Why don't you stay home from school today, there is no way you are going to stay on green with that behavior, and I don't want to give your teacher a hard time, since you are having such a bad morning," I said trying to give her my best and brightest smile.
Suddenly, the "I want to talk to dad" chants came to a hault. "Finally," I thought, and as I began to walk away I was immmediately stopped in my tracks. "I want to learn, I want to learn, I want to learn,"
At that very moment, my life flash before my eyes. What have I done so wrong that I have to endure this. This is not right. There is an injustice taking place, right here in my daughter's room, and no one is here to witness this but me. I know that it is time for me to walk away. And I do. I go downstairs to prepare a bowl of cereal (since this is all we have time for now) for my seven year old son. And out of the corner of my eye, there she is. "Mommy, please let me go to school, I will be good I promise." I throw in the flag and say "OK, but you better listen today. I don't want a call from your teacher." I said as I sit her bowl of cereal in front of her.
"I don't want this cereal, I want the same cereal as my brother," she says. As she begins to cry again. "Did you get all of your sleep last night?" I asked.
"no, I want to learn, I want to learn..." I turn to look at the clock, and we have five minutes before it is time to leave. At this point, I have the option of getting a three hour break (she's in half day kindergarten) or dealing with this for the entire day. I decide to let her go to school.
"go grab your backpack" I said.
We walk to the bus stop and when her bus arrives, I wave goodbye to her as I wonder what was I thinking when I decided to have kids. And I go home, with my baby boy tow.
The three hours go by a lot faster than I would have wanted, and I unwillingly go back to start the second half of my day.
The bus pulls in, and she hops off, waving a piece of paper in hand, "I got green, I got green" she says as she smiles so big that I can't help to smile back.
"I told you, I would get green, she says.
"yes, you sure did, high five," I said. Enjoying the walk home, and this memory, while the memory of this morning fades into the distant past
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