As mothers you just really cannot tell us that some things are impossible. One of my favorite books is Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland". On my refrigerator right now is a magnet with the quote from the Red Queen who states "... I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." Now if I were to tell my husband he was to get Natalia up, dressed, pottied, fed, teeth brushed, hair styled (not just brushed, we are talking matching ribbons and all), clothes styled (again, matching), book bag organized, snack ready, pep talk, dog fed, dog pottied, car warmed up and everyone in the warmed up car with a coffee in hand for mommy (who is in jammie pants because you have to cut corners somewhere) all in the span of 25 minutes; he would tell me that was impossible. Well I think I believe in well over six impossible things before breakfast every school morning, don't you? Three snaps in a Z formation for Mommy, the Red Queen.
The past couple of weeks I have been working on a different mission impossible. I am trying to brainwash my child. It's not as easy as those koolaid drinking, white tennis shoe wearing people have made it out to be. Either that, or Natalia is just not a very good candidate. I guess I'll thank God for that, but ask for some divine help on my specifics. Here's my Christmas wish: How do you make something that is important to me, important to her? We usually agree on the important stuff like glitter goes with everything and that it's the shoes that make an outfit. Why can't she also understand that everything she has learned cannot be counted if she won't write it down - legibly. It's like charting: If you didn't chart it, it didn't happen. She doesn't get that one either.
My child isn't dumb, doesn't have a learning disability and doesn't need to be diagnosed with some sort of alphabet soup or anything more than maybe a case of second grade apathy. I mean, I can kind of see her point. When asked by her teacher, she knows the answers to all of the questions. Natalia just doesn't want to take the time to write any of it down. She has other things she would like to do, like recess, computers, or catching up on her conspiracy theory gossip regarding the triangle people (they are all around us!). If she was an adult and lived in L.A. she would have a personal assistant who could write it all down for her, but in the meantime, she is getting failing grades on her seat work. Ouch.
Finally I had to get all hard core with Natalia and make her (let's all grab our hearts like we are about to have a coronary) HANDLE IT HERSELF! Oh the pain and agony of a mother not stepping in to micromanager her child's existence. Brutal! This "Oprah Ah-ha Moment" came about when I found Natalia's report card on a Monday morning after she had been at Grandma's house for the weekend. She had got 1's (lowest grade) in handwriting and whatever way they label her seat work. We have been on Natalia about this since parent/teacher conferences about a month ago. Our goal for her had been for her to slow down and only write down correct answers as opposed to what she has been doing - turning in bogus answers to questions she isn't even reading so she can be the first one done or head out to recess. Our pleading with Natalia after parent/teacher conferences did cause some tears, but had no effect. Neither did taking away all but an hour of TV a day. I thought we would have her at that one. That is when I changed tactics.
That Monday Morning I explained to Natalia that 1's are unacceptable and that daddy, Ms. Penney and I have all tried to help her and discuss what to do to make her go slowly. I told her that us talking about it isn't helping so I was going to drive her to school and she was going to have to take her report card to Ms. Penney and ask Ms. Penney directly what she could do to make her grades better. I also told her that these grades are her responsibility because I have already finished second grade and that it is her turn. I can't do this for her, she has to do it for herself. I drew a heart with a Sharpie on the inside palm of her hand and kissed it so she would think of me when she saw the heart and know I was with her in spirit, so to speak. I told her that I would not stay at that meeting with her because this was between she and Ms. Penney.
She didn't throw a tantrum, she didn't argue, but she was quiet on the way to school. I checked her in and walked her to the classroom. With her report card in hand, she went up to Ms. Penney's desk and said "Ms. Penney, can I talk to you about my 1's?" I kissed her on the head and walked away.... then I started to tear up. I was so proud of her and wanted so badly to go back and talk for her, fix it, hold her and tell her that it's okay. That wouldn't really fix anything, now would it?
Now Natalia gets all 3's (the highest) on all of her class work and is actually going to be skipping ahead to the third grade next week because we have discovered that she is really a child prodigy and was just bored in class. Just kidding. She is still rushing through her work and would rather talk with her friends than finish her seat work. Seriously, I don't even know what this magical seat work is, and why can't she just be quarantined or something so she isn't so distracted? She has asked to be moved to a quieter spot, so that is our next step. The point is that in spite of the urging of her parental units and her fabulous teacher, we still cannot make her see that any of this is important. She just pacifies us with twenty minutes of taking in all of our lecturing, then goes about her class days with business as usual. What's a mom to do? Keep believing the impossible, of course.
There are times that I lose the faith and would rather just get mad at Natalia for her not doing things my way (hence the Red Queen, all things are My Way), but then I look back and realize that she will get it done in her own way and probably at the very last moment. That drives me nuts. Same destination, different journey. Maybe I'll call her the White Queen someday, but only when she moves out because this week we had the discussion that there can be only one Queen per household. This was followed by "all things in this house are mine, even things bought by other people" (she's sharp and you have to quickly cover your loop holes) and she is never to throw any of my things, EVER. Right now she is having a horrible time sleeping and is being extra difficult, so I know that she is about to conquer a milestone. I'm hoping it's the educational milestone and not some gross motor skills thing.
Yeah! More Queen mommy sitting back and watching. I'd like to think that I am lounging back all "Mother in the Hampton's" style, sipping on something with vodka. Realistically I am "Mother in Braces" sitting on the edge of the sofa, drinking iced tea from a Subway cup I should have thrown away a week ago and grinding those pretty braces to nubs. Either way, different journey, same destination right? I'll just get a "Mother Hampton's" hat and believe what I want.
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