I have found myself lately taking lots of deep cleansing breaths. In with the good, and out with the bad. And sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. I can never keep up with my daughter’s tastes and opinions.
Let’s back up a bit. I will preface this by saying that I am loving that my daughter is starting to be involved and caring in the rest of the world, and is sharing her thoughts with me. She is paying attention to the news, reading the paper and asking questions. Which is good, right?
But blarg! I don’t know if it is her personality, generational or what, but there is the obsession with brand and status that drives me crazy. She still thinks very much in terms of black and white, and misses the shades in between. She has missed all the critical thinking lessons at school and is only beginning to engage in the world outside herself.
Let me give some examples. We are going to teach her to drive this summer, and she says she won’t drive our current vehicle because it isn’t cute enough. She thinks that anyone 40 or over, is really really old. She will complain and complain about our music being old and boring, but as soon as it appears on Glee, it is her favourite song. She wants a cell phone, but hates talking on the phone. I am old because I don’t wear skinny jeans (nobody wants to see me in skinny jeans, trust me). This morning I had to explain that when you see quotation marks in the paper it is a direct quote, not just something paraphrased by the author. I could go on but I won’t.
Most times, I can handle this. Mornings, I have a hard time. I shouldn’t be allowed to parent until I have been up for at least two hours. Really. I have no patience or tolerance and I tend to snap and lecture. So most mornings over breakfast I plead with her “please, just stop arguing with the radio, I can’t take it”.
I know that this goes along with her diagnosis and her delays, so I try to take much of it in stride. But there are times when it is hard. There are times when I just want to stop “working” and just be me and walk away. That is not the best parenting technique. So I bite my lip and try to push through. And then send her to ask her father…