4K, Act II

Never count Sarah out in the drama department.  After a hugely successful first day at school, she turned cold on the idea last night. 

She gets to play on the iP*d before dinner each night and is sometimes reluctant to turn it off when asked.  The rule is, if she doesn't turn it off when asked, she doesn't get to play it the next night.  Yesterday, she dragged her feet, so I said, "What do you think will happen if you don't turn it off now?"  She replied, "I won't play the iP*d tomorrow, and I'm not going to school, either!"  Uh-oh.

This was no idle threat.  She repeated her intention all through dinner.  I first tried to act impartial about it, hoping my indifference would quash her rebellion.  Then, I told her I'd be sad if she didn't go, because she'd miss so much fun.  She said, "Don't be sad; mind your own business" (which, I have to admit, is a good point -- soon, I'll be telling her not to worry about what other people think).

I managed to table the discussion until this morning, when I woke her.  She sat up and asked, "What are we doing today?"  When I said, "You're going to school," she said, "No, I'm not!" and burst into tears.  I got into bed with her and tried to comfort her, to no avail.  She pleaded with me, and I wanted so badly to give in and let her stay home, but I stood my ground.  It was the toughest moment of my short parenting career.

After more tears and screaming (hers, not mine, thank goodness), I finally asked if she wanted me to drive her to school, instead of riding the bus.  This seemed to turn the tide.  She asked me to stay with her, too, and I said I'd stay in the back of the room for five minutes while she got settled, then give her a kiss and leave.  She grudgingly agreed.

She refused to put on her good clothes and, instead, emerged from her room in a mismatched outfit of "farm clothes."  I told her she could wear farm clothes, but not those particular ones, and convinced her to put on the most presentable duds she had.  Sure, today was photo day, but I'm learning to choose my battles (and I have gorgeous shots from her session last month).

I gave her the old "warm milk in a sippy cup" as a peace offering, and she seemed to perk up during breakfast ("I'm a little bit happy now, Mom.").  I drove her to school and followed our agreed-upon plan.  As I waited in the back of the room, I noted that most of the other little girls were dressed up, with bows and curls in their hair; one even wore dangly earrings.  Sarah didn't seem to notice.  I think she has the "not caring what others think" thing down.  If she could only hold onto it as she ages.

At the appointed time, I gave her a quick kiss and left, with no objections.  She arrived home in the same mood as yesterday -- slightly uneasy, but with a smile on her face.  She announced that she had chocolate milk for snack again and wondered once more at my joy in seeing her.  She asked if she's going back tomorrow and said she wants me to drive her again.  Then, she ate lunch and headed to quiet time.  Let's hope that's the end of the discussion for today.  Tomorrow, Act III.