This morning my dear 11 year old daughter went on strike.
No, not that kind. This kind: “I am NOT GOING TO GET DRESSED!”
Mom: That’s fine. You can go to school naked.
(Calm pseudo-acquiescence is the best way to get her to change her mind. Because if MOM thinks it is fine, then I should definitely DISAGREE AND DO SOMETHING ELSE! )
As I go back and forth to her room, feeding her, she starts talking. But not to me, of course! She is talking on her “phone” to someone, explaining the events of the morning. Expressing her frustration.
Like this but in her bed, and CRABBY:
See that? NO PHONE IN THAT HAND!!! STILL! No phone in that hand!
I sit down on my reading chair next to her bed. Finally she takes the “phone” away from her ear and looks at me.
She is usually crabby when she is getting sick. She did JUST get on antibiotics, so I ask: “Are you sick? …or just crabby?”
Nat: “Just crabby.”
I love that. This kid is almost always truthful. The almost part: when asked where she put her field trip forms she said, “in my packpack” (her invented word for backpack). Were they there? Certainly not! They were in a garbage bag which was tied shut. Why? Because she does NOT want to go on that field trip!
Back to the strike.
When I go back to her room 3 minutes later, she is walking out of her room, dressed and smiling. 20 minutes later she is on the bus, CLOTHED, on her way to school!
I can’t explain the feeling I have when at 8:00 a.m., after a “long” morning, she is on the bus on her way to school. Relief? well, yes, but…. Gratitude? sure, and… Ecstasy? YOU BET!!
It is true what they say: help is only a “phone call” away.