So, I need to spend my morning coffee pouring my heart out about yesterday.
I spend so many days in awe of my kid. Every single day, sometimes many times a day, she’ll whip out a sentence I’ve never heard her say before, sing a song I didn’t know she knew or do something independently that impresses me. That’s one of my favorite things about this age, so far. She just continues to grow more mature and surpass my expectations for her.
BUT. Yesterday reminded me that, while she may be mature and independent and growing, she’s still little. Have you ever heard that fun fact that the toddler phase is comparable to the teenager phase? In that they’re changing so much, so rapidly & trying to define themselves, but in a lot of ways, being a toddler is harder because the communication is lacking so much, and they’re still SO dependent on others for basic needs. I feel this comparison more acutely some days over others… yesterday it made total sense, and I toasted to it with my beer as my toddler fought going to sleep until 7:45.
When I went into daycare to pick up Margo yesterday, I was greeted by the teacher saying hello and that Margo had had a “rough day today.” She quickly filled me in on an altercation where she pushed someone down and pulled her hair. That feeling when you get your kid from preschool and the news of the day is the worst yet? I was there. It hit me hard. We actually had TWO Incident Reports from yesterday, the hair pulling and a pushing down incident because she didn’t want her friend to sit beside her.
Never mind the helpless feeling me and Scott commiserate on, not knowing what actions preceeded the reported incident (maybe the friend who had her hair pulled deserved it!) Never mind we weren’t there and can’t recreate what happened and teach her or punish her at our house. Never mind the unfairness of having a crumby day at work and looking forward to picking up my kid and being blindsided with something way worse than “she peed her pants.” All of those suck.
It’s rare, but yesterday she sort of disappointed me. Perhaps it’s because my expectations were inflated (due to the continued impressing me that I noted above)… but it was the ultimate pin stuck in my ballooned parenting ego. *pffffffttt*
She had a bad day. *shrug* Happens to everyone, right? Or should I go ahead and find a behaviorist?