The Worst Day of Her Life
Lucy informed me this morning, between choking sobs and wails, "This is the worst day of my life." And I had to admit, it was looking like a pretty bad day. We sat on the couch at an impasse: I'd told her she was going to wear the shirt and skirt she'd promised to wear the day before, or lose TV for the rest of the day. She'd told me she would wear the shirt under a dress as a jumper, but would NOT wear the skirt.
I picked the wrong battle and I am sick about it. Here's what happened: she explained that she HAD to wear a dress or else. Or else what, I wanted to know. "Or else the girls will make me be a queen or a prince when we play princess — only girls who wear dresses get to be princesses." When I heard this, I dug in. I told her that nobody could tell her what to wear or what to do (except me and Dad), and she had all these new clothes and she'd told Dad yesterday she would wear this outfit today and that was that.
The morning dissolved into hysteria! Threats! Rage! (And this was both of us.) She pleaded, demanded, negotiated and pressed her proposed compromise to wear the new shirt UNDER a dress as a jumper, but I did not budge.
I won, but it was no victory. She went to school, her chest still heaving, wearing the @#$%ing skirt. Poor kid. She tried so hard to find a compromise. I should not have forced her to go to school wearing something that made her feel so miserable or would make things on the playground unnecessarily hard merely because I said so.
How humbling when the little person is the bigger person.
I picked the wrong battle and I am sick about it. Here's what happened: she explained that she HAD to wear a dress or else. Or else what, I wanted to know. "Or else the girls will make me be a queen or a prince when we play princess — only girls who wear dresses get to be princesses." When I heard this, I dug in. I told her that nobody could tell her what to wear or what to do (except me and Dad), and she had all these new clothes and she'd told Dad yesterday she would wear this outfit today and that was that.
The morning dissolved into hysteria! Threats! Rage! (And this was both of us.) She pleaded, demanded, negotiated and pressed her proposed compromise to wear the new shirt UNDER a dress as a jumper, but I did not budge.
I won, but it was no victory. She went to school, her chest still heaving, wearing the @#$%ing skirt. Poor kid. She tried so hard to find a compromise. I should not have forced her to go to school wearing something that made her feel so miserable or would make things on the playground unnecessarily hard merely because I said so.
How humbling when the little person is the bigger person.
posted by Kate at 9:32 AM
5 Comments:
Here is the thing, though: She is going to have to deal with teachers or bosses later in life that say "because I said so". There are going to be things that she cannot negotiate or people she cannot compromise with for whatever reason. She is also going to have to stand up for herself, her style, her likes and dislikes and learn to tell the Princesses to jump in a lake. Her troubles today are a small price to pay for the big things she is learning. Don't sweat it.
This is such a sweetly sad story. Thanks for sharing it.
I'm sending you and Lu happy thoughts.
I like the way Liz looks at this situation. The upside to this itsy bitsy ordeal is that Lu is learning how to handle herself when things don’t go her way. I think it’s a healthy and also sad lesson to learn. I’m sending you and Lu lots of love from Dallas.
I agree with all 3 comments...ditto from aunt mj -- Liz is right -- life is full of situations where no compromise is allowed (unfortunately) -- Lucy just experienced that -- she'll learn the importance of compromise this way. The next time, it'll be a shared victory through compromise, and she'll learn the importance. Don't whip yourself -- it's useless. She's ok, and you're ok. You're a fabulous, fantastic, wondrous, loving mother. love, mj
I am feeling your pain, my dear. The constant battles post-purchase of new clothes are so infuriating that I, too, have decided to lay down the law. (And I must say, what a wise friend you have in Liz...) As of last week, choosing one's own attire in our family has been made contingent upon the ease of bedtime routines and expeditious transition to sleep. Any monkeys jumping on the bed will attend school in an itchy sweater and polka-dotted bow tie with no compromises. Period. It's entirely the choice of the monkey, see?--totally beyond my control.
Squeezes to the Princess. Hope she'll still agree to be seen in public with the bow-tied boys who worship her. We can't wait!
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