Hooky

2012-09-25 15.21.57

“There is no reason for you ever to wind up in the principal’s
office,” I say.

She sighs and looks away.

“Ever,” I repeat for extra emphasis.

It is the end of summer, and I have received the teacher
assignments for the year.   Miss F. has
been placed with someone who has the reputation for being stern. 

“She’s not going to let you get away with the things that
happened last year
.  I’m just saying.” 

“OK, Mom.  I get it!” Miss
F. responds with a roll of her eyes.

I have grown used to the eye roll, and for better or for
worse, Miss. F. has grown used to my rattling off these types of warnings.

I am a taskmaster mother.  

Homework must be done the moment my children step off the
bus, and Miss F. is not allowed to have after school play dates during cheer
season.  My standards are high for my
kids.  School comes first. They don’t
play hooky. I expect good grades.  I
expect top notch behavior.

When I arrived at the Book Fair that day, compromising my
standards in any way was the last thing on my mind.

“Mommy, I don’t know what to get,” Miss F. mumbles. 

Miss F. does not mumble. 
  

“You don’t have to get anything.”

“I’ll talk another look around.”

“We can go to Barnes and Noble later this week,” I offer.
“They have tons more books there! “

Miss F. sulks and looks back at the book display, as if
being able to find a book that meets her liking has become the most important
mission in the world.  

“Listen,” I move in closer. “We are not going to buy a book
just to buy something.  We’ve done that
before.  There are plenty of book fair
books at home that have never been read.”

“All right,” she shrugs.  “I won’t get anything.”

We walk back to her class in silence.  She is sad, and I know it’s not over a
book.  This is how my kids have reacted
to the monkey wrench that has been thrown into their lives this month.
While they took the “big news” in a stoic manner, it’s the little things that
have brought out the tears.  The inability
to pick out a book. The Lego lightsaber that was chewed up by the dog. The
ripped paper bag puppet. My forgetting to stock the refrigerator with my son’s
favorite yogurt. 

As I walk Miss F. back to class, she starts to cry.

“Baby, are you OK?”

“I don’t feel well.”

“Is it your stomach? 
Is it your head?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel right.”  

“Come home,” I say reflexively.   

I go to the office to sign Miss F. out.

I dodge the flood of questions from the school nurse, the
teacher, and the secretary, and I whisk her to my car.  

We get home, and Miss F. settles into bed to read.  She doesn’t last there long.

“Mommy, can I hang out with you while you clean the
kitchen?” 

Miss F. is my shadow the rest of the afternoon. She folds
laundry with me, puts new sheets on the beds, and stands outside the bathroom,
talking, as I scour the tub.  

Sometimes, Miss F. can be so adversarial, that I forget that
she is just a little girl who needs her mother.

Later, that night, I lie next to Miss F. as she tries to
fall asleep.

“Mommy, I have to tell you something.  I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?”   

“I didn’t feel right. 
But I don’t know if I was sick. 
You know what I mean?”

“I do.”  I stroke her
hair.    

“I don’t care if you wind up in the principal’s office.”  

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t care. 
I don’t care if you get in trouble and wind up in the principal’s
office.  It’s not the end of the world.”  

“OK.  But I’ll try not
to get sent there, Mommy.  I’ll try.”

I know you will.  But
no matter what, I still love you. Even if you go to the principal’s office
every day this year.   I will still love
you. “

I sit up. “I’m here. I am here no matter what. Okay?”

Miss F. nods sleepily and puts her head on the pillow.  

I’m too hard on her. 
I always have been.  And even
though I can’t change the past eight years, I need to change things between us,
especially right now. 

The rules are about the change around here.

Sometimes revising the rules begins with breaking them.  

 

Comments

Hooky — 38 Comments

  1. Thanks for sharing this. I too am sometimes hard on my little guy, he is such a good kid by nature and the minute he isn’t i tend to jump on him. I too need to relax a little and realize sometimes he is just a kid.

  2. This – your beautiful writing and sentiments – went straight to my heart. It is hard to remember that they are just little kids who need to be loved and nurtured and protected. I do love how you handled the situation. I know that I’m too hard on my kids too. Sometimes I worry (I know?) that my expectations are too high and that they need to be tempered. xoxo

  3. Oh good lord, crying crying crying. Miss F seems like an astute little kid. I think the transposition of grief to the “small things” is pretty normal. I saw it with my niece when her baby sister arrived — she would hug and kiss the baby but then go into hysterics if her spoon dropped on the floor.
    How old is your daughter? I’m new!

  4. I have to remind myself of this all the time – not too be so hard on my kids. My kids are good kids.
    I am so happy that you broke your rules with Miss F. It seems like maybe you both needed it.

  5. Parenting is a hard road with lots of bumps and learning curves, and flexibility is a great tool to keep in your arsenal. A phrase from that book I recommended pops into my head: A misbehaving child is a discouraged child. I reread that phrase so many times as I finally looked at our youngest through a fresh perspective, never having realized how discouraged she felt in school.
    Continuing to pray for you all, Ilene!

  6. This post is simply beautiful. You are an amazing mother and an amazing woman. You’re children will grow to appreciate these small gestures as they get older. Your daughter will mention that day again…when you least expect it.

  7. You make me feel sad and proud. I’m sad for your little girl and your family. I’m proud of you for recognizing that ‘sick’ doesn’t have to be ‘puking’. I’m sure that even though you and her Daddy are reassuring the kids that none of this is their fault, they are still taking it like it could be. So that reassurance that you love her no matter what, that you will be there always, that’s so essential. You’re an awesome mom.

  8. Good for you for allowing your daughter that day with you and knowing what she needed. So often people don’t really know how to listen to children, expecting them to know what and how they feel and to express those feelings like an adult. But sometimes all they know is that they don’t “feel right”. She will remember this day and carry it in a special place in her heart.
    Best of luck and just keep listening with your heart (but don’t let go of those standards either).

  9. Your writing just keeps getting better and better. I see the heart of a Mother shining through it. Beautiful ! And remember just as we are so forgiving so are our children of us.
    btw I believe my son has the same teacher as your girl this year so I can relate. 🙂

  10. Totally bawling! I sooo get this. I am so hard on Ash. I expect so much out of her and always have. I need to bend the rules more too. I don’t want to lose her over getting straight As and not putting her elbows on the dinner table.
    As always, you have helped me without even knowing you were going to. xo!

  11. So true. This is such an honest and beautiful post.
    I am too hard on my oldest, I just expect more, sometimes too much. I think it’s a fine line between setting standards and expectations and being too rigid. So happy you had the chance to have this day, particularly that bedtime moment with her.
    Well done Mom.
    Stopping by from Shell’s PYHO

  12. This brought a tear to my eye. It sounds like the perfect time to play hooky. I’m sure Miss F. appreciated it and needed it. And maybe Mom did too? We need these moments with our kids.

  13. The very end of this post made me tear up. You see, I’m often harder on my girls (and they’re only 5 & 3) than I want to be. Sometimes I believe it’s because my parents expected a lot from me. Sometimes, I wholeheartedly admit that I’m simply irritated and forget that they are, in fact, only 5 & 3.
    I also know that there’s a problem: too many parents don’t expect ENOUGH out of their children. There are more excuses than I could list here without writing a rudely lengthy comment, so I’ll leave it at that. I love expecting more out of my girls…it builds confidence (if done right), it builds SELF expectation, and so on. Breaking the rules, however, creates a bond. An understanding. A relaxation of sorts. Knowing you’ve said she could wind up in the office and you’d still love her? That sets her free. It sets you free.
    And mom-to-mom? You’re doing beautifully.

  14. Annnnnnnd goosebumps. This was so beautifully written. I don’t have children yet, but I can’t tell you how much I long for the day I have this kind of relationship with one of my own. As someone above pointed out, the love you have for your children is nothing shy of extraordinary.
    XOXO and big hugs to your sweet little girl who loves her mommy so very much.

  15. I’m honored to read this beautiful post. Truly. You are such an amazing, loving mom. As others have said, I teared up at the end also. I tend to be hard on my older daughter and have to remember what you so lovingly pointed out – she’s just a young child looking for love from her mom. Thank you for this beautifully-written, expressive post. Well done, mama!

  16. With each child, I have learned to lighten up a bit, but Miss F. is the oldest of my three and I have always expected “more” from her – to a fault. This is the moment – for meany reasons – that I need to scale it back and become her biggest advocate versus her biggest adversary – but easier said than done!

  17. My expectations of Miss F. are way too high – unfairly so. It’s funny but as soon as my husband and I separated, something clicked inside of me. I realized I HAD TO become her protector and pronto, because of the stuff she was going through due to the split. I pray that no matter what happens with my marriage, this veil stays lifted. Because she deserves the warm, nurturing, supportive, understanding mom she has now.

  18. Melissa, thank you for your generous words. I totally agree that many parents these days do not expect enough I am 100% with you on this! I have been working for years at finding that happy medium – of letting them know what I expect but also allowing them to be kids. They will make mistakes – but I make plenty of mistakes too. I have to learn to forgive more. Especially Miss F. And I love what you say at the end about it setting us free? I think it might have. Our relationship has shifted and I am grateful for that!

  19. I have to tell you – a day or two ago, Miss f. informed me that one of the things that was making her “really happy” right now was how “supportive” I have been as a mom lately. And that little son of a gun actually used the word supportive! It was a “Life moment.” I am so glad I reached her. Thank you for celebrating here with me. xo

  20. Thanks, Jessie. I know I have a long road ahead with regard to the kids ad the situation at home – but I will keep the reassurance levels as high as possible – and I am super lucky in that dad is doing the same. Not ideal but not the worst – for what it is. Thank you for your support. xo

  21. Yes – it is such a fine line! I am WAY over on the rigid side – I need to lighten up with her – perhaps to a fault – because she needs to know that I love her unconditionally. I think it’s different with each kids – but for this one, the rules may need to be bent again and again…

  22. I love you for this! We’ve had some rough patches this summer with Alexa. I think she’s a lot like F. I think she’s going to be a lot like me. I remember how hard growing up was. Heck…it’s STILL hard. Remembering how small they still really are puts a lot of things into perspective. Remembering that they still NEED you is key. It’s not too late. It’s never too late. Good for you for deciding to change now.