Kindergarten
September 8th, 2006
Soph has been in a pouty, disagreeable, foot-stamping state lately. I should rephrase that: She has been in a pouty, disagreeable, foot-stamping state when she is with me. We are talking a surfeit of eye-rolling and oh how you burden me sighing and quite a few I KNOW, YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THAT A MILLION TIMES and heaping quantities of very pointed ignoring and stabbing dagger glances.
On our way back from Acadia, we stopped in Portland to spend a night with some old friends. After an hour with them, Sophie said to me, “I wish you would adopt me. Then I could stay here.”
She meant I wish you would give me up for adoption.
I told her that wasn’t going to happen, not any time soon, at least.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because you would have to be a total orphan,” I said. “I would never give you up for adoption. I would have to die first.”
Sideways pouty glance. “That’s okay.”
“That’s okay? If I die, that’s OKAY?”
“I don’t mind if you die because then I could live here.” She shrugged and skipped away to play with The Nice Family while I stuffed my fingers into my oozing heart to plug the pulpy hole.
Four days later. She started kindergarten today. I’ll admit there was an attempt on my part to buy back her love with some new pink size 11.5 Hello Kitty Mary Janes, and some very exciting new surprise school supplies tucked away in a pink-and-purple pencil case. I took blurry pictures of her doing her maddening praying-hands pose under one side of her face (”because it looks pretty”). I let her have two muffins and two donuts at the Welcome Back breakfast at school. I told her I was very proud.
But she looks through me, looks around me, looks the other way. I’m feeling lonely around her these days. It baffles me. After all, there she is—right there in the rearview mirror, right in the booster seat I’ve strapped her into, right behind me wearing her pink Hello Kitty Mary Janes. I can touch her, but I can’t, not really.
Is this the way it goes?
Entry Filed under: Uncategorized, Because I said so. (Parenting), Playdates. (Relationships)
51 Comments
1. VenturaMom | September 8th, 2006 at 12:54 am
Sometimes we moms just want a little validation. Sometimes we just want a little wink or wave. Sometimes we want to punch them and run. Motherhood is hard. But being 5 ain’t no walk in the park either, sister. Oh wait…yes it is. A walk in the park. Recess. Pudding. Damn kids.
2. Kirsten in SF | September 8th, 2006 at 1:17 am
Keep on spitting out those babies until you get a boy child. Trust me, with the girls, once they nail you they KNOW they have you beat, and I promise it only gets worse with puberty. Girl children, phhhtttt, we shall speak of them no more. Boys love their mommies. Perhaps The Nice Family would trade you a boy child for one (or both) of your girls, and everyone would go home happy?
Actually, I would never trade in my girls, but when they get cranky I do tend to spend more time with their brother. He doesn’t do the eye rolling thing, and he never whines….
3. mom on a wire | September 8th, 2006 at 3:05 am
Oh Jenn, you’re breaking my heart.
4. sogalitno | September 8th, 2006 at 5:35 am
oh dear… maybe it has to do with going to school? is it an independence issue?
this single lady can only guess…but hang in there -sending waves of strength and courage.
5. kelly | September 8th, 2006 at 5:52 am
Oh Maude, you’re killing me. What a heartbreaker this kid is, and you with the retelling! I can’t take it.
6. Mir | September 8th, 2006 at 6:55 am
Oh, sweetie. Yes, this is the way it goes. She’s testing you, and testing herself apart from you, and I hear you on the pulpy hole in the heart.
She will start flitting to and fro very soon, I promise. There will be the “go away” behavior and then, the clouds will part and she will melt into you and declare you her everything, and just as the healing begins, she’s off again. Such is life with a girl who is like you.
(This is why I only have one. I will be interested to see if you go through the same with Hannah or if the two-girl dynamic is different. My son LOVES IT when my daughter is a little brat; he sucks up to me and attempts to fill the void.)
7. Sarah Piazza | September 8th, 2006 at 8:36 am
One day when my guy was in his last year of preschool, I dropped him off and said goodbye, kissing him as always on the cheek. He turned his head away (ouch) and whispered in my ear, “Please don’t kiss me any more at school.” OUCH.
8. candace | September 8th, 2006 at 9:08 am
I’m sorry. I’ve never had that happen to me. I call my six-year-old daughter my little stalker. Sometimes it’s like she’s a pathetic ex-boyfriend doing anything possible to win my affection. She leaves me little notes, she tells me about 500 times a day that she loves me (and she always will, forever and ever!). I secretly think she’s setting me up for a hard fall come puberty.
And boys? Not all are momma-lovers. My son would rather die than admit we’re related.
I suspect that the kids who are most like us tempermentally are the ones who are a little detached or annoyed with us. My daughter = nothing like me AT ALL. My son = my double.
9. MotherPie | September 8th, 2006 at 9:11 am
My youngest started her senior year yesterday. Wouldn’t let me take her photo. But I did take a photo of her shoes just to post, which I will do sometime soon.
SHE HAD ON CLUNKY SADDLEOXFORDS.
My baby girl has gone retro.
Blink and they are almost flying the nest. Kindergarten yesterday, then ….snap. It happens.
10. Andrea | September 8th, 2006 at 9:42 am
I’ve read it many times on other blogs, a phrase about how “someday, my kid won’t want me around. So for now, I’ll take the clingy. It won’t last forever.”
I was hoping at least that independence thing wouldn’t hit until around 10 or 11. 5? Youch. I don’t think any of us know how hard it will be when we set out to have kids. But what a reward!
Look at it this way, the bad “someday” has already come. Now, there’s another “someday” to go, and it’s a good one. “Someday your daughter will look at how she grew up and realize she had one awesome set of parents.” If I can be half the parent mine were to me as a child, I’ll be doing well.
11. Chelsea | September 8th, 2006 at 10:23 am
If it helps at all (and I’m sure it won’t!) kid’s go through a mental growth spurt between 4-5 where they gain a greater sense of autonomy (Same thing at 2 and in the teens)
She’s trying to show you that she is her own person, apart from you- however it is done with absolutely no tact or kindness apparently!
She’ll move past this soon and all will be as it should be again. In thee mean time- go hug Eleanor!
12. Vikki | September 8th, 2006 at 10:52 am
I just dropped Miguel off for his first day of school. He’s been going to this school for two years (pre-school) but now he is what they call an “afternooner” which means kindergartner. Luisa and I dropped him off together, camera in hand - he ran down the hall to his classroom and never looked back. Not a glance. Not a wave. Nothing.
When they are babies, they have separation anxiety. When they reach this age, the parents that have it.
13. Lisa H | September 8th, 2006 at 11:16 am
Oh, but my boy goes through the mood swings and the weird hands-at-the-side-of-the-head thing as well. He loveslovesloves me when it’s time for drop-off and pick-up, but the rest of the time it’s all “I want to go live with Grandma” and “You don’t love me. If you loved me, you’d let me…blahblahblah…” and the foot stomping and the throwing himself on the floor.
14. CrankMama | September 8th, 2006 at 11:47 am
She loves you… she DOES….. You’re a good mommy who has a nice independent little girl. “snif.
15. Cathy | September 8th, 2006 at 12:01 pm
one of my mom’s favorite stories to tell (now, at least; I doubt she found the humor in it at the time) is about my first day of kindergarten. She says that almost every other kid burst into tears in the morning, when their mothers/fathers left them for the first time. Me? I started bawling when she came to pick me up. The sight of my mother made me cry with anger — at that point, I would have been completely happy never to see her again, as long as I could stay at kindergarten.
Yeah, it hurt her at the time. It happens — children take loving parents for granted because they’ve never known anything else. When she grows up a little, and understands just HOW much you love her and how much she loves you, and how lucky she is, you won’t be able to stop the affection. My mom is currently one of my best friends; in fact, she still makes me cry, because every time I talk to her on the phone, even if it’s just a five minute chat, it floods me with love and graditude for her, and I’m a wimpy cry-a-holic. It will be the same with you and Sophie.
She loves you — she just doesn’t yet understand how precious that is.
16. Mother Chaos | September 8th, 2006 at 12:07 pm
Hang in there, mommy. I’m hardly a World Renown Expert or anything, but my girls definitely go through phases. This week (month, year), It’s All About Daddy. And now? Mommy! And now? You both stink and I want Grandma! Or {friend’s name here}’s Mommy!
I comfort myself with the thought that somewhere out there, {friend’s name here} is sobbing into her pillow that she wishes, OH HOW SHE WISHES!, that I were her mommy, instead of That Horrible Woman…
17. corymack | September 8th, 2006 at 12:09 pm
our 8 yr. old son emancipated himself from our 6.5 yr. old daughter this summer…at first we were horrified. he won’t even order the same food as her - giving up his beloved root beer and drinking soda water to prove that he’s in no way linked to her - I think of it as a quiet riot…
re: boys: He was in LOVE with my husband around the age of 5 - and I was INVISIBLE…he actually said in a voice that just got higher and higher pitched coming from the backseat “I just wanted to say that I really like daddy more than you” - and I said “that’s ok…I know you’ll love me always…liking sometimes comes and goes”….my hubbie took one look at my shocked/hurt face and said “that’s the last time he’ll be honest with a woman”…..
18. Beth | September 8th, 2006 at 12:35 pm
This makes me so sad, to read your loneliness. I can’t relate…yet. But I know the day will come when I don’t get hugs and Sam says something so hurtful that he doesn’t really mean. It sounds like she’s just experimenting, testing your reactions maybe. I don’t know, but it will pass and she’ll move on to something else…probably something else that hurts. Might be the mommy lot in life so I guess we need to really hold onto the sweet moments. But she doesn’t mean it and she has no idea how much she is hurting you.
19. Raehan | September 8th, 2006 at 12:47 pm
Oh I love this post. This week the chemistry between all three girls in my family (me included) is awry. School has put things all out of wack. I’m feeling a bit sad, too.
Hopefully, it will all get straightened out for both of us.
20. Raehan | September 8th, 2006 at 12:49 pm
Oh, and I would never trade my girls for a boy. Your girls love their mommy. It’s all just more of a roller-coaster kind of love.
21. kris | September 8th, 2006 at 1:01 pm
I’m waiting for the mater to weigh in on this one. I’ll bet she has a LOT of experience in this matter and find it a bit strange that she hasn’t made so much as a peep, yet.
At any rate, I sure hope that pulpy-whole heals up quickly. I’m not looking forward to this, AT ALL!!!!
22. Bethany | September 8th, 2006 at 1:32 pm
Ow. Am aching for you, but agree with Mir. Pulling away and then latching back on is the dance of childhood.
About a year ago I sat playing with my daughter at my SIL’s house. We’d been going through a rough patch — her baby sister had just been born and we were all adjusting. She said in a sing-songy voice “I wish you’d go away Mommy.”
“Go away, why?” I asked.
More singing “Because I don’t love you anymore….”
Fingers in pulpy heart that day too, but she came back to me again. It just took a while.
Hang in there!
23. V | September 8th, 2006 at 1:59 pm
I’m sure it’ll pass, but your post still made me teary eyed. Maybe it was some weird kid-defense mechanism…like she knew she would be leaving you for kindergarten so she was trying to detach a little. Maybe that’s BS. But she loves you…and I’m sure she’ll be telling you again soon.
24. Spot the Wonder Dog | September 8th, 2006 at 3:06 pm
Snarky little moppet, isn’t she?
I’ve known she was evil for months, but would you listen? Nooooooooo. Ever since you wrote about her charming little victorian accent and I thought to myself… wow, what other little kids talk like that? Then I realized, why… Stewie, from Family Guy. He talks just like that, doesn’t he? Don’t try to tell me it’s a coincidence. Only a matter of time before you start to hear Sophie using phrases like “Oh, you wretched woman. I’m going to kill you… slowly.” Although she will probably work the phrase “red-hot mad” in there someplace.
I even pointed out her coal-black “spawn-of-Satan” eyes, but would you look at the evidence that was right in front of your nose? Not hardly! You thought you could buy her affection with craft projects and naked bathtub photographs… how wrong you were.
Oh Jenn… poor Jenn… I’m afraid your misery has only just begun.
25. nolamom | September 8th, 2006 at 3:12 pm
I know what you mean about the pulpy hole in the heart. My 4 yr old started her 1st year of preschool last week, and she is actually enjoying being away from us. She is a very independent, knows what she likes kind of girl, and she lets me know sometimes that she would rather live with her big sister than with me. I hope one day this attitude she has at times, will disappear entirely. Friends keep telling me, just hold on, you will get your sweet little girl back, and so I keep holding on, you hold on too.
26. J | September 8th, 2006 at 4:00 pm
I have to second Mir’s comment. It is this way. It’s hard and heartbreaking and I am embarrassed to admit I get my feelings hurt by my six year old. But she is not me, and now is the time, I guess, she feels safe enough to pull away a bit and test the waters of independence.
27. Anonymom | September 8th, 2006 at 4:02 pm
I have to second Kirsten on the girl/boy differences. My 8 year old daughter perfected the sassy-eyeroll-headflip thing by age 5. At age 5 her brother serves me breakfast in bed every weekend (when dad can make the waffles).
I didn’t fully appreciate my own mother until I became a mother too. Can you hang in there that long??
28. Sara | September 8th, 2006 at 9:36 pm
Aww. Count me in the teary-after-reading-this-one crowd.
29. Mellie G | September 8th, 2006 at 11:02 pm
Oy. How painful. This summer I saw my five year old nephew and for the very first time he did not want to be seen with me when older kids were around. It was heartbreaking and totally confusing–how could he be like this already? He was just born!
30. Lisa S. | September 8th, 2006 at 11:07 pm
awwwhhh Jennnn…..It happens to all mommy’s at some point whether they will ever experience it in the same way or not. I remember my baby son telling me he hated me and that he wanted to “go live with his dad” at some point in his childhood and I recall bawling myself to sleep thinking I’d never have all of his love again….but you will see, that it only grows and grows and grows….Both of my boys tell me they love me every time they see me and kiss my cheek and call me all the time. They don’t have to….they want to. She’ll be back…and then away again…then back again….your darling girl will always come back. I promise.
31. Nichole | September 8th, 2006 at 11:54 pm
Break my heart, why doncha?
32. Jessica | September 9th, 2006 at 1:21 am
Aaaaghh….my breaking heart.
My oldest just started Kindergarten a couple of weeks ago, and, like a small bird, spread his wings and flew, without ever really needing my help. I’m proud, but so, so sad he doesn’t need me that way anymore.
Luckily (or unluckily?) for me, he has a little sister…
33. Patti | September 9th, 2006 at 5:02 am
She’s comfortable and confident. Better than the alternative.
But ouch, love hurts.
34. Sheryl | September 9th, 2006 at 8:15 am
I wrote a big long comment about the way I respond to these trends, but you probably don’t want to hear that.
It’s tough feeling rejected by someone you love so much.
Hang in there.
35. Angie | September 9th, 2006 at 8:39 am
I don’t know what’s up with these diva 5 year olds! I do think it is more of a girl thing; at 5 my son was lamenting that there was a law against marrying your mommy. Hang in there. She doesn’t really mean it. My once diva 5 year old is now a (usually) sensitive, caring and intuitive 14 year old.
36. samantha Jo Campen | September 9th, 2006 at 6:37 pm
You can have my heart until we have kids. Then I’ll want it back. But you need it more than me right now.
Hang in there!
37. Dawn | September 9th, 2006 at 7:18 pm
She will get cute again at 5 and a half - I swear. I taught this age and they are all miserable that first half a year, then they get cute and confident again.
But yeah. setting them free into the wild? Much harder on the mama.
38. pogonip | September 9th, 2006 at 11:45 pm
It’s soooo hard to let your little one fly solo for the first time, especially when she isn’t sure if it’s grownup to show mom how much she loves her. If she didn’t know you love her unconditionally, Miss Sophie wouldn’t feel free to be pouty and disagreeable with you, so try to consider her actions a weird sort of hug. Kindergarten teachers get the angel behavior–mommies get pulpy holes; as a K teacher I see it all the time. Thank heavens, I’m on the teacher end and not the mommy end anymore!
39. Suzanne | September 10th, 2006 at 2:28 am
Yes, it hurts, but they -do- come back. The lad in this story is now 15 and we get along very well. Although he doesn’t loudly proclaim his love for me either!
son, aged 3: “I love you, Daddy!”
Daddy: “That’s nice, I love you too.” Seeing my expectant face, “How about mummy, don’t you love her too?”
s: “NO! No! I HATE mummy!”
d:”Now you’ve hurt mummy’s feelings - you should tell mummy you’re sorry…”
s: (turning to me) “Mummy… I’m sorry I don’t love you.”
40. Lisa S. | September 10th, 2006 at 12:42 pm
Jenn…..yesterday I had Connor and took him to a local parade and street fair and called him my schnookie boy (which I’ve called him since the day he was born) and I asked him about that…I said is it still okay for me to call you that…(he’s five also) and he said yeah sure but my real name is Connor and I’m five now Grandma…(I had to laugh) but I said okay when it’s just me and you can I call you that buddy? He said oh yes grandma…I’ll be your schnookie boy!
Just had to share that little insight. It’s a five year old thing I think!
41. Eve | September 10th, 2006 at 7:36 pm
Holy HELL. Oh, Jenn.
I guess I only have 5 more good years to live, because I think that having my 3 girls scowling disgustedly at me like that would be the perfect storm that would make my head explode.
I suppose I should get my affairs in order beforethen… sigh…
thanks for the heads up.
42. Anne | September 10th, 2006 at 11:03 pm
They can really break our hearts. And Their voodoo is always stronger than ours…..
Don’t take it seriously, she is just testing how far she can go….Kindergarten is a big step.
Good luck, find a sympatico mum or dad and have a good weep….
43. Tiff | September 11th, 2006 at 11:50 am
Oh dear…my heart goes out to you! But Little Miss -yeah sure go ahead and die-does love you tons. I don’t know about Sophie but I certainly would have changed my tune with the pretty pink Hello Kitty Mary Janes and the extra muffin and doughnut that’s for sure…but I’m easily bribed. Wow, guess I should be glad that I’m having a boy…what was that about boys not rolling their eyes???
44. Antique Mommy | September 11th, 2006 at 11:55 am
I’m doing this dance with my almost 3-year-old and oh is it ever painful. It makes me want to slap myself for how I treated my mother.
45. Chaos | September 11th, 2006 at 3:09 pm
I have nothing to offer you except my empathy. I don’t know about this business of this stuff being “girl-only”. I have a little boy who is 6 and apparently, cannot stand me.
46. Kitty | September 11th, 2006 at 3:23 pm
OUch. I’m pretty sure I did this to my Mom. It sounds like it succks but she got what she wanted- a little girl with the tendency to be rather independent.
47. TC | September 12th, 2006 at 11:44 am
Ouch! ((hugs)) thats really hard for you. sometimes this being a mommy thing is really tough.
48. coley | September 12th, 2006 at 4:15 pm
Oh Jenn, at least you’ll be more prepared for the teenage years!!
49. Pam | September 13th, 2006 at 4:20 pm
I’ve never heard it described like that before, but that is EXACTLY what it feels like. My daughter seems to do the same thing. She looks right through me. I just want to connect with her, but something just keeps getting in the way.
All those people that say boys are easier, well I think they are right. Maybe us girls are just too much alike which is both good and bad.
In the immortal words of Dorie the Fish from Nemo, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming”. So I will just keep on being a mom and letting her know I love her bunches.
50. Tina | September 16th, 2006 at 4:53 am
Oh, my word. My boy is only five months old, but I had a strong experience like this after he was born. I’d had a c-section and terrible recovery, and his dad did most of his caretaking. He locked in on Daddy with the eye contact and eventually with the little smiles, while he looked right past me. At best he’d fix on me neutrally for a second or two. Totally invisible mama. Add a little post-partum depression to that and I was screwed for a while there.
Man. C’mon, Sophie. Spring back to Mama fast.
And know, Mama, that we’re all gathered around the pulpy hole in your heart, like big cozy internet gaffer’s tape.
She’ll be back. Maybe she’ll eat something weird and throw up, and you can rock it at the vomit pot, and she’ll be like, where have I been? Have I been living under a rock? This lady is tanFASTIC!
Nowhere did I specifically say Syrup of Ipecac in a way that is punishable by law.
51. Amy | October 7th, 2006 at 12:58 am
Jenn, by the end of the summer I was ready to send Jeffrey to the nice people in Maine. That’s not true… by June 20th, I was ready to give him to anyone willing to take him! I think the ‘tude we get from them in the summer has to do with the fact that they are not getting the social and intellectual stimulation they were used to throughout the year. No offense. You know what I mean? They had the community superstars (remember “the brain”?) and the singing and the art and so much more. I offered Sponge Bob and popsicles. As for looking right through you at school, I don’t know about Sophie, but Jeffrey gets very serious and focused at school. Jay said he doesn’t even get acknowledged when Jeffrey sees him because dammit he is in school mode. On the other hand Charley stops and waves and says “hello”. I think some kids just have to go into “the zone” when at school. Probably a way of coping with the fact that we have abandon them there
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