Oct 26, 2017
Dear Todd,
Last night, between the hours of 5-9, our daughter rolled through what would otherwise appear to be some sort of emotional drug withdrawal were she not 12. The 0-60 shift from REM’s “Shiny Happy People” to Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” was really impressive. And not one narcotic was involved.
The first “trigger” was signing up for Rock Climbing Club. Now, I’m sure you are thinking, “Well duh...she is wary of new experiences.” But, no no...this spectacular meltdown was rooted in signing her name. Not what she was authorizing, but the actual signature. I believe we launched with “My handwriting stinks!” And gradually escalated to “I hate my name!” Admittedly, I did not see this one coming and just kept trying to talk her off the ledge. She was pretty sure she had the ugliest name to write when I was saved by the boys wrestling—something I never thought I’d say—and had to take them over to the high school.
When I returned, she was dancing in the kitchen. I’d like to take this moment to thank the fairy godmother who swept in and bopped her on the head with happy sprinkles while I was away. You are priceless! I then left our twinkling teen and went into the basement to proofread our youngest’s short story. Side note: with Google Classroom teachers are able to comment in the margins of the students’ work.
As I’m reading through, our smiley girl comes down to ask me something when her gaze falls upon the computer screen where just such a “comment” exists right next to her baby brother’s story. As the storm starts to brew across her face she mentioned, “I never got comments like that about my writing.” I looked at her. Thought of many things to say. And all that came out was “Don’t go anywhere.” I ran upstairs and made some popcorn. This one was gonna be good and worst case, by the time the show is over and she makes her way out of the storm she’ll at least have a snack—if I feel like sharing.
Dear Todd,
Last night, between the hours of 5-9, our daughter rolled through what would otherwise appear to be some sort of emotional drug withdrawal were she not 12. The 0-60 shift from REM’s “Shiny Happy People” to Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” was really impressive. And not one narcotic was involved.
The first “trigger” was signing up for Rock Climbing Club. Now, I’m sure you are thinking, “Well duh...she is wary of new experiences.” But, no no...this spectacular meltdown was rooted in signing her name. Not what she was authorizing, but the actual signature. I believe we launched with “My handwriting stinks!” And gradually escalated to “I hate my name!” Admittedly, I did not see this one coming and just kept trying to talk her off the ledge. She was pretty sure she had the ugliest name to write when I was saved by the boys wrestling—something I never thought I’d say—and had to take them over to the high school.
When I returned, she was dancing in the kitchen. I’d like to take this moment to thank the fairy godmother who swept in and bopped her on the head with happy sprinkles while I was away. You are priceless! I then left our twinkling teen and went into the basement to proofread our youngest’s short story. Side note: with Google Classroom teachers are able to comment in the margins of the students’ work.
As I’m reading through, our smiley girl comes down to ask me something when her gaze falls upon the computer screen where just such a “comment” exists right next to her baby brother’s story. As the storm starts to brew across her face she mentioned, “I never got comments like that about my writing.” I looked at her. Thought of many things to say. And all that came out was “Don’t go anywhere.” I ran upstairs and made some popcorn. This one was gonna be good and worst case, by the time the show is over and she makes her way out of the storm she’ll at least have a snack—if I feel like sharing.
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