The children have been at odds with each other more than usual lately. Sunday night, when they realized I had control of the television, they both raced to the basement-where they yelled and argued over of whose “program” was more important to watch. The doll, who was already perched on precarious ground for being disrespectful earlier in the day, began to raise her voice. Her brother matched her in volume and soon thereafter I called them upstairs saying “That’s it! Go to bed!” Which was then echoed by their father. Both kids stomped up the stairs, into the living room and with incredulity said “What?” “Go to bed!” I reiterated The boy fearing the loss of electronic devices for the week, immediately said, “Okay, goodnight mama” and moved quickly toward his bedroom.
The doll however just stood there; dripping wet with attitude to spare. In a raise voice she questioned “Why? It’s not my bedtime”. “Well tonight it is” I replied calmly. “That’s not fair mom!” she yelled at me. “I don’t care. You’ve been completely disrespectful and rude to your father and I today. When I asked you to help your dad you never even moved. You sat there as if you were the queen and we were your minions. So guess what? I’m exercising my right as the one and true queen of the house and am sending you to bed NOW!” “Well you better get used to it MOM, I’m a teenager and that’s what teenagers do!” she replied. “Really? Well guess what? You’re two years shy of being a teenager, but the result will still be the same. Go. To. Bed! “FINE!” she screamed stomping as she passed; pausing only long enough to reach for her Kindle. But to add to the drama I stopped her and said, “You don’t need your Kindle to sleep with…” Then unexpectedly she threw her Kindle at me before shouting, “I HATE YOU!!! YOU ARE THE WORST MOTHER EVER!!! YOU’RE JUST BEING MEAN!!” When her bedroom door slammed shut, I turned and looked at her father and said, “Well I guess I’m earning that mean mommy badge again”.
A minute later her bedroom door opened. As I turned to look I watched her arm release not one, but two stuffed animals in quick accession at me. Thankfully her aim stinks. She also unloaded two glue sticks and a barrage of other small projectiles aimed at hitting me, before she slammed her door shut again. Looking back at her father I said, “I wonder what her bedroom is going to look like when she finishes redecorating a la thrown stuffed animals?” I’m not sure what time she actually fell asleep, but when we checked a half an hour later at 9:00 pm she was fast asleep.
Today when she arrived home from school we discussed what had happened the night before. “Mom I think it was a mood swing. I just couldn’t control my temper and everything made me angry and upset yesterday”. Having been on that side of the fence more often than I care to admit, I agreed with her. “Yes there are will be days like that; the key is to not let them overtake you.” I said. “You should have seen my room when I finished throwing all my animals around. It was a mess!” “Better to have a mess to clean up than do something you’ll regret later” I replied at the same time she came over and gave me a hug. The boy who pretended to not be listening to our conversation chose that moment to say, “Oh isn’t that sweet the “detail doll” acquiescing to her mother”.
The doll’s swift response proved that while she may not be a teenager yet, her mouth and attitude are; said “SHUT UP BOY!! and this time I agreed with her.
Acquiescing: To accept something reluctantly but without protest