Operation Communication: FAIL

My girls and I – we don’t always communicate well. There’s screaming.  There’s ignoring. We interrupt each other. I have been involved in more “no – you’re not – yes  – I – am” arguments then I care to admit.   Sometimes, though, I put some effort into helping Hadley and Harper understand why they shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing.  Take the other day, for example.  Hadley had Harper pinned to the ground, face down, pulling her arms away from her in what looked like some sort of WWF move.  Harper was grunting and screaming but Hadley wouldn’t stop.  So I picked Hadley up off of Harper and asked her why she continued to torment Harper when she clearly wanted her to stop.  Her reply?  “Well, Harper never said ‘no.'”

Mean Callie would have screamed and put Hadley in time out ASAP.  But on this morning I’d had my coffee while it was still warm, got a few words down on paper, and had a shower, so I was feeling generous.  I sat down next to Hadley and explained how when someone makes complaining noises when you are grabbing, pulling, tickling, on top of them, it means they are not having fun and it’s time to stop.  “There are other ways of saying, ‘No,’ OK Hadley?”  It was your basic ABC After School Special.

Here’s how my efforts paid off.  I went to clean up the breakfast dishes when I heard Harper screaming again.  In the girls’ room I found Harper  face down on the floor trying to get away from Hadley who was holding on to Harper’s pants so she couldn’t get away.

That’s when I started to scream.

“NO TV TODAY!” I yelled as I pulled Hadley’s fingers off Harper’s pants.  “TIMEOUT!”  I left the room and slammed the door.

This all happened before 8:30 in the morning.

Later,  while we were waiting in line to drop Hadley off at school,  she couldn’t sit still.  She wouldn’t stop repeating, “PleasecanIwatchashowI’msosorryIpinnedHarpertothefloorsoshewouldn’tgetaway.”  I ignored her but she tried a different tactic: “Mama. When someone asks you to do something, you HAVE to do it.”  I ignored that, too.  I was exhausted.  And sad.  More times then not I’m finding motherhood is a lot like being the ball inside a pinball machine.

When we pull up to the drop-off, the principal of the school opened the car door. She and I are friendly because I interviewed for a job last year. A job I turned down because I didn’t think I was ready to go back to work.  When she asked me how I was doing I thought about asking her if she needed any substitute teachers that day. Instead, as she took Hadley’s hand to help her out of the car, I told Hadley, “Have a good day!” I watched her glide out, and hop along the sidewalk into school.

I meant what I said.  I hoped she would have a good day.  I felt terrible for the fights we had.  The administrator shut the door and I felt as though a huge hole was in my stomach for missing Hadley so.  Why couldn’t I have done it better?

When we pick Hadley up after school, she started waving as soon as she spotted us in the carpool line.  Harper and I waved frantically back.

“HADWEE!”  Harper was shouting even though we were too far away for Hadley to hear.  The three of us  never stopped waving, and I thought I could even hear Hadley laughing as I watched her through my windshield.

When we got home, the girls raced up the sidewalk to our front door, an activity that has become a ritual.  Hadley always wins, but has recently made up the term “Big Place” for Harper when she reaches the finish line.  This pleases Harper to no end and in fact it is what she hopes for every time – “big pwace” as she says.

Hadley was several yards in front of Harper when she decided to take a stick, turn around and point it at Harper as Harper ran, head down towards the door.  I looked at Hadley, and cocked my head in confusion.  I won’t yell, I thought. I was determined not to scream at her.  She dropped the stick, still looking at me.

“You don’t seem to have learned much from this morning.” I told her.

She looked at me, eyes wide and full of sincerity, and said, “I learned how to count by fives in school.”