My Future Teenager

I always look forward to picking DD up from school on Fridays.  We make a game out of it.  We get in the car, pump our arms, and yell, "It's Friday night!!"  This means the start of the weekend, more time together, and the best part (from DD's perspective) is a Happy Meal with ice cream for dessert.  Corny, yes.  But it is our tradition, and McDonald's once a week won't kill anyone.

Everything seemed fine when I went into DD's classroom on Friday.  She ran up to me and hugged me.  I picked her up and carried her around for awhile.  I received a lot of kisses and hugs.  DD showed me her art projects from the day.  We gathered her sheets for washing, her daily report, and other miscellaneous materials and got ready to leave. 

As we started to turn for the door, a mom that I'd never met before approached me and said that her daughter, B, is having a birthday soon.  B is a new girl in the room; I think she's only been with the school for about a month.  The mom explained that she'd planned a party for B and invited family members.  Two cousins were unable to come, so B's mom told her she could invite any two friends she wanted. 

The mom is so excited about this party.  It really is probably quite an expensive endeavor.  It is a princess party, but everything is provided for the little girls -- the party center provides costumes, hair styling, and a bit of make up.  Then, the girls make their entrance into a ballroom, where they are announced, and they enjoy "tea" and cookies.  All in all, something that DD would just love. 

B's mom said that when B was offered the choice of who to bring, she said that she wanted to bring the only two girls that she has been talking about, non-stop -- DD and another girl, W.  B's mom said that she wanted to give me a heads up about the date and time (it's on a weeknight).  B's eyes just danced, and she looked so happy to invite DD to the party.  I looked over at my daughter and said, "DD, what do you think?  It sounds like fun!"

And what did my ungrateful little monster do?  She pouted and said in her most whiny, b*tchy voice, "I don't wanna go!"  And then she repeated it a couple of times for good measure and scuffed the floor with her shoe.  B looked sad, her mother looked a little confused, and I was really, really embarrassed.  B's mom said something about it being the end of the day, and DD was probably just tired.

When we got in the car, I told DD that I was so ashamed of her.  What she'd done was the wrong thing.  She kicked the back of my car seat.  I turned the rear view mirror up so that I couldn't see her, the only way that I could really withdraw attention while driving, and we didn't speak for awhile.

After a little while, I asked DD if she could tell me why what she'd done was not a "good choice."  She wouldn't answer.  So, I started talking to her about we can hurt someone's feelings by not being very nice.  And, I pointed out examples where she'd had her feelings hurt so that she would understand.

And do you know what she said?

(Wait for it)

"Whatever."  (With perfect 16 year old inflection.)

Whatever??  Whatever?? 

That did it.  I had been transported ten years into the future, and I didn't like it.  No, not one little bit.  Another lecture followed about how she was not entitled to talk to me that way.  (She's been experimenting with other little gems, like calling me "poopy head," etc. -- you know, the three year old equivalent of something far worse.  And, since she knows that will get her in trouble, she usually tells me that she was calling the wall a poppy head, or the light a poopy head, or the mirror a poopy head.  As if I would actually buy that.)

Needless to say, there was neither a Happy Meal nor an ice cream sundae.  Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued.  But, hopefully, we are moving past this abominable behavior.  I've really reached the end of my tolerance for it.  She has started acting like "that child" at restaurants, and she throws a fit at the drop of a hat.  I'm tired of it.  DH is tired of it.  She's just had many, many little brat moments lately, and sometimes, it seems like it is getting more and more frequent.  (Though honestly, please know that there are more moments where she makes me glad to be alive, and glad to be her mom.  What kills me is that she knows damned well how to be courteous, and nice.  Which is what makes this stuff all the more exasperating.) 

Later that night, over a dinner that did not include chicken McNuggets, DD admitted that she really did want to go to the party.  She loves the princesses.  She wants to dress up as Snow White.  She is very excited about going.  And she was able to articulate what went wrong.  If I had a black heart, I would have told her that she didn't deserve to go, not after the way that she treated B.  But, I didn't.  And I will apologize to B's mother -- again.  I'm guessing that B and DD will easily forget this and move on, or at least I hope so.

I hear that four is so much better.  At least I hope that it is.

Comments

[stacyb]

wow...i thought you had to wait till at least 13 for the whatever comment.
eegads...sounds like you handled that one well.
a precocious dd that you have on your hands mm.

and thanks for stopping by, i always appreciate your kind and supportive words.