November 8, 2009

FIGHT

It goes something like this:

7:45 A.M.
"Scout, its time to get ready for preschool. I laid out your outfit, can you please get dressed?"

Scout runs around the house and screams with laughter. She goes into the romper room and gets her red tricycle.  She turns it around and zips back down the hall, naked.  "Look at me Mommy!" I should be proud, right? She's riding her bike. She's good at it. NOPE. I'm not proud, I am annoyed.

"Scout, you need to get dressed! C'mon!"


She tears back into the romper room and parks her bike. Then, its quiet. I peek out from my bedroom, where I am changing Sawyer's diaper, tickling him and listening to him coo.  "Scout, where are you?"  I hear giggles.  So, I bite.  "Wheeeeeeereeeeesss  SCOUT!"  I wander into the living room and see the blanket moving on the floor. I go and touch it with my toe, right in her tickle spot.  "I can't seem to find Scout! I wonderrrrr where she is?"   "I'm right here MOMMY!"  She is so excited and I am less annoyed. 

"Scout, can you get dressed... now? Otherwise, we are going to be late!"  I am certain my tone is harsh by the third time around. Scout manages to yank a pair of pants on. Not the ones I laid out the night before.  And she has forgotten underwear; a tiny matter I decide to overlook.

"Mommy, do you want to color with me?"  She's already working on a masterpiece and has marker all over her tummy and hands.  "Scout, you need to get dressed, RIGHT NOW!"

She marches back to her room with her bottom lip so contorted it makes me smile.   "NO MOMMY, I DON'T WANT TO GO!"   She drops to the floor. I feel as though I should applaud. Her dramatic performance is hands down the best I have seen.

8:19 A.M.
"Scout, can you get dressed? Its time to go to school."  She is laying on her bedroom floor kicking the wall. I hear Sawyer crying... I need to breastfeed.  I rip my top off because I'm hot and its easier to nurse this way.  Scout comes in and starts poking at Sawyer's head. "Gooo goo gaga! Baby Sawyer!" She loves her brother.  "Honey, go and get dressed or you are going to be in BIG TROUBLE!" I try to sound mean and ugly.  She hides in my closet and giggles.  

I finish nursing Sawyer and then he needs another diaper change.  I try to brush my hair and encourage Scout to brush hers.  I brush my teeth and beg Scout to "wash her teeth really, really well!"  Still, no socks, no top. But teeth are brushed and hair is, well, not pointing straight up.



Scout manages to pull a shirt over her head and very proud of herself. She pulled together her own outfit. I wince. Its painful. Its hideous. It hurts to look at her.  She has green pants and a purple and pink shirt on.  I don't say anything.  I am happy she is dressed, finally!  

"Scout, honey put some shoes on and then we can go!"  She whines.  "Mommy, my socks aren't working! There AREN'T working!" She takes her socks off and melts into the ground.  By now, I am worn out.

8:46 A.M.
Scout walks outside without her socks wearing brown boots that do not help her outfit.  She is carrying her coat because she is too hot to wear it.  When she gets into the car she turns cold and insists I "help her with her coat!"  I do.  I hoist Sawyer up into his seat and I feel a small victory. Both kids are in the car and I can get Scout to school.  We have a five-mile drive.


I consult my mommy checklist before I start the engine.
  • Does Saywer have his binkie?
  • Does Scout have her breakfast bar? (No we don't sit down and eat breakfast in the morning- need I explain why?)
  • Do I have my phone, my purse, my tea?
  • Are Luna and Levi the dogs with us? (We take the for the ride every morning)
  • Do I have the diaper bag?
  • Does Scout have her water bottle?
  • Do we have gas in the car?
9:10 A.M. 
We drive.  We talk about the 'rules of the road' and Scout is convinced everyone goes to fast.  We talk about her friends at preschool. Sawyer is quiet and enjoys the ride.  Scout mentions that she is tired and she talks about naptime with excitement. We talk about our family and friends. She asks questions.  Sometimes the ride is quiet.  Sometimes, she talks to Sawyer. Its mostly peaceful.

9:29 A.M.
Scout loves her preschool. I feel really good about dropping her off.  When I sign her in I have no hesitations about leaving her. I think she feels the same way. She is glad to be with her friends and I am glad to return to Sawyer, who doesn't talk or defy me, yet.  I get in the car... and I miss Scout.


Every single morning we do this.  Some mornings are more difficult and others.  Some mornings I physically dress her myself because I cannot stand the fight.  I know she is asserting herself. She is testing me, always. She is learning who she is.  And with this, I am learning how very bad I am at this stage of parenting. Its not my best time. I grow impatient easily. Letting go of control (not that I had any) and letting her walk out of the house looking like she got dressed in the dark is very, very hard for me.  SHE SHOULD MATCH, I think to myself.  Why do I care if she matches?

She is trying to play... and I don't know how to play.  I know how to create 'order.'

The thing is, there isn't much order in a three year old universe. Nor should there be; at least not as much as I try to instill. I am learning to let go... one minute at a time.


10:00 A.M.