An Example of Why One Must Always Understand Exactly What Children Are Asking Before Offering an Answer:
Alexis: “Mom, I’ve always wondered how I was made…(pause)…how was I made?”
Me: “Ha. Um. Yes. Well, you see…(mumble, mumble) cells…egg…er…huh.”
Alexis: “I mean, which part did God make first? My head?”
Phew.
Alexis and I are fighting over clothes. Actually, I’m surprised we’ve made it six years without this being a problem…but here we are.
It all started on a P.E. day. On P.E. days she is not supposed to wear a dress. She’s supposed to wear clothes and shoes appropriate for running and other P.E.-related activities. So I picked out some jeans and a shirt she refused to wear because “it looks like a dress.”
Me: “It’s not a dress, it’s a shirt.”
Alexis: “It’s made like a dress but it’s shorter. I’m not wearing it.”
Me: “It’s called a blouse and okay, we’ll find you another one.”
But she didn’t like any of the other ones, either. By the end of the morning, she had rejected every shirt she owned as unfit for P.E. day. I could have given her the official outfit of the Olympic Women’s Soccer Team and she would have told me it wasn’t allowed in P.E. Just to be extra sure, I asked her teacher (once she stomped angrily into class, wearing a formerly rejected shirt and really, really mad about it) about the dress code. She looked confused. “Shirts? Well…I guess the straps can’t be skimpy…?” Six year olds can’t wear skimpy shirts to school? Oh, very well.
So that night I got wise. I figured we’d avoid all the before-school drama and pick out clothes the night before. Since we’d have plenty of time, Alexis could spend as long as she liked picking out whatever she liked. Accessories, even. Matching shoes and leggings. Or un-matching, for that matter, I don’t care. I just want her wearing something when it’s time to leave the house. So we planned ahead. Such a good solution. A sensible solution. A logical solution. Which means, of course, that it didn’t work. The next morning she changed her mind. “I’m not wearing this.”
Me: “You’re wearing it. You picked it out last night. It looks very nice. Put it on.”
Alexis: “No. It looks stupid.”
Me: “You spent a lot of time thinking about this last night. You made a good choice. Now you need to wear it.”
Alexis: “NO!! It’s ugggglyyyyyy!!”
At which point it all disintegrated again and she slammed her door. For ten minutes I heard muttering and the words “stupid,” “ugly,” and “never.” She emerged from her room, with red eyes but wearing the offending clothes.
Me: “You look very nice.”
Alexis: “Humph.”
Really. I didn’t know kids actually harrumphed.
