Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Beat The Clock.

Yesterday... yesterday was awful. By the time we left for school, I had yelled so much that my voice was hoarse. I had a throbbing headache, my heart was racing, and I was pretty convinced that my head was actually going to explode.

Beege dragged herself through every task. She took fifteen minutes to get dressed (and I've timed her, she can do it in two). She took half an hour to eat a piece of toast and have a cup of milk. She took half a freaking hour to use the bathroom.

And as she wasted her time making little boats out of toilet paper, I was popping my head in every five minutes or so to tell her we had to leave soon:
Beege, are you almost done? We have to leave in fifteen minutes.

Beege. Finish up. We have to leave in ten minutes, and I still haven't braided your hair.

Beege! FINISH! We have to leave in five minutes! I won't have time to do your hair at all!

BEEGE! GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM! WE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!

Kee waited at the top of the stairs, while I raked a comb through Beege's hair and put it in a messy ponytail.

I started to stuff her things into her backpack, and then realised that she was not putting her coat and boots on. I turned around to see her glaring at me.
What?
Instead of answering me, she grabbed her hair and pulled on it. She glared some more. She started shaking her hair at me.
What!?
I didn't want a PONYTAIL.
Seriously, the way she said the word "ponytail", you'd think I'd rubbed steaming dog crap into her hair. It was ridiculous. I ignored her and kept stuffing things in her bag. Eventually, after more yelling, arguing and general discord, we made it out the door.

She dragged her feet all the way to school. She sobbed. She mumbled (I'm assuming) whatever it is that passes for obscenities to a first grader. When we got to school, I hugged her, told her I loved her, and that I hoped the rest of her day would go better. I finally left her at her classroom at quarter past nine; fifteen minutes late.

************

Fast forward to today; I am still in shock. SHOCK, I tell you.

This morning, Beege got up and used the bathroom. It took her five minutes, and I didn't have to tell her to do it.

She picked out her own clothes and put them on. Five minutes. And I didn't have to tell her to do it.

She ate her breakfast. She asked me to braid her hair. She was ready (except for her outdoor clothes) by twenty past eight.

I'm still in shock.

She played, nicely, with her little sister, until it was time to put her coat on. At quarter to nine*, I said "I'm just going to the bathroom, when I come out, it will be time to put our coats and boots on. "

When I came out of the bathroom? She was in the hallway, with her coat on. When we left the house this morning, the three of us walked hand in hand, singing 'Oh, What a Beautiful Morning." Seriously.

The contrast between today and yesterday is astounding.

Has my girl finally realised that the only reason we even have to leave the house in the morning is to get her to school on time and taken some responsibility? Has she finally decided that everything is easier, and more pleasant, if she just does the things she's supposed to do? Has she gotten as tired of listening to me yell as I've gotten of yelling at her?

Although... she could just be screwing with me.




*We live across the street from the school. Theoretically, we should be able to get up, get out of the house, and be at school by nine if we woke up at eight fifteen.

5 comments:

  1. I've got my money on "screwing with you." But I'm jaded. Glad things went better!

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    Replies
    1. Sadly, me too. Cross your fingers for me tomorrow, would you?

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  2. Replies
    1. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to do that every day, Marianne. We got out of the house with time to spare again today! Of course, that still doesn't mean she's not screwing with me.

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  3. I'm pretty sure she's screwing with you. I taught first grade last year...and the manipulative skills of six-year-olds are astounding! Ha! Hope your mornings keep going smoothly...

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