Sometimes my little angels, well, aren’t. The problem is, I seldom know when these sweet little people I am raising are going to turn on me.
Yesterday when I asked, “How was your day?,” I was taken down an elaborate journey through the halls of St. Timothy’s School. It was beautiful. I learned about friendships, the lunch menu, assignments and teacher personalities.
Today I asked the same question. I was cut off at the pass in a very terse tone, “I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Is everything OK?”
“I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!”
What happened? I thought we were friends. I thought you were daddy’s girl!
Last week I was asked to help with homework. We laughed while we worked on the memorization for the history quiz, making up nutty phrases to cue her mind: “Bangladesh” – “I can’t remember Bangladesh.” We ran to the kitchen and pull out a plastic plate, slamming it on the counter, “Bang The Dish! Bangladesh!”
Tonight I walk in, the computer is open, the tears are flowing.
“What’s wrong? I thought you didn’t have much homework.”
“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT! AND THEN I DISCOVERED THE FOUR MATH PROBLEMS WE HAD TO DO. WE’VE NEVER DONE THIS KIND OF PROBLEM BEFORE! I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS!!!”
“Your teacher said as long as you attempted to do the math homework you’d get credit. Just try.”
“BUT I D-O-N-‘T K-N-O-W H-O-W TO DO IT! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! GO AWAY!”
Go away? I’m just trying to be helpful!
What makes these beautiful little beings, often dressed in pink, transform from Snow White to Jafar? How is it that the same simple question on Monday can elicit such a polar opposite answer on Tuesday?
Sometimes I feel like I have three sets of twins. There’s a good one and a ornery one. They look identical, and yet they pop in and out of my house interchangeably without me knowing.
Is there another family with three girls that might be keeping my children’s twins? Are you in on this? Are you gas lighting me? Stop it! I want the good twins back – and not just 75% of the time. I want full custody!