Thursday, May 4, 2017

On Facetime With My Girls

Little Cuter had issues (don't we all?) and I encouraged her to vent.  I'm her Mom; sympathetic ears are  my specialty.  I've learned to avoid trying to solve anything. I concentrate on the emotion behind the facts.  I'm always on her side.  She can talk as long as she wants to, needs to, feels like.  My capacity is boundless.

So she explained and she quoted and she described.  She defended her actions and she watched me nodded in agreement.  I was having a great time.  My kid was confident enough to stand her ground, to demand civility and respect, to begin to consider her options because she is valuable and she knows it and if others can't see it then it's not the place she's meant to be.

FlapJilly was having none of it.  She was okay while we were focused on her, enjoying her smoothie and showing me the bunnies on her socks, running away from my tickling fingers.  But things began to deteriorate as soon as she and I began to disagree about her mother. My Girl vs NO! MY MOMMY! 2 year olds don't like to share and defining her mother as anything other than the personal property of FlapJilly herself was clearly unacceptable.

She was tired and Daddy was working sooooo hard that he wasn't home like he usually is and she must be growing because she was a non-stop eating machine and sometimes kids are just cranky.

She pouted and she frowned and she was generally unpleasant as Little Cuter and I talked on... and on...amid flouncing and interrupting.... until the little one was asked if she should be put in time out? A most emphatic shake of the head answered that.

Did she want to put herself in time out?  FlapJilly nodded with a solemn face as her elders stopped talking.  Seriously, she trudged down the hall and sat herself on the second step, taking a break.

Little Cuter kept talking and I kept nodding, but in the background was a rather loud conversation.... not clearly audible from my end but definitely aggravated and demanding and peeved as only an independent and disgruntled 2 year old can be.  To whom she was directing her comments remains a mystery; perhaps Thomas the Wonder Dog was nearby. Whatever was inside was definitely coming out.

Then, there was quiet.  The kid came shlumping back, flinging herself onto the couch.  There was flopping and giggling and there was tickling; then there was crying.  The grown ups said  I love you as the little one wailed in her mother's arms.

I hung up with love in my heart and a sense of wonder; I've never seen a kid who knew that she needed to absent herself from the scene.... and then did so.  She took care of business and came back to join the party, still tired, still 2, but much less aggravated .... well, somewhat less aggravated.

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