Tuesday, February 07, 2006
My kazoodles are frozen
I am not sure what a kazoodle exactly is, but mine is frozen. I haven't heard the temp yet, but I am sure it is very very cold. Bright and sunny, and colder than heck! There are days the fact that I can get my daughter up, dressed, fed, and to school on time simply amazes me. 6 year olds are fanatically slow in the morning. And ornery. And stubborn. *COUGH* Especially on nights when mommy was grocery shopping and Daddy lets them stay up an hour and a half past bedtime *COUGH*. There is something about that slowness in the face of the ticking clock that just gives me fits. Want to give me an aneurysm? Know that we had to leave three minutes ago, then decide that you have to "say goodbye to the dog" before putting your boots on. My daughter is particularly resistant to winter clothing such as hats, boots, coats, anything warm when the weather is cold enough to freeze your kazoodles off. "I don't need a hat, I will wear my hood. I don't need gloves, my hands are hot. I don't need boots, I won't step on any snow". Yeah, right. The minute we get outside, in the car, and pull out (meaning out of reach of said warm items and we are so late there is no turning back to get them) she starts whining and winging...."I'm cold. My hands are frozen. My feet are wet". Because guess who practically LAID in the snow as soon as we got outside? Sigh. Then we get to school, and as a good mother I dutifully stand outside with her and wait for the bell to ring. Freezing my kazoodles off, and WEARING all of MY winter gear. I am sure the other parents think wonderful thoughts about this. I am bundled to the hilt, and my daughter is half naked and crying that she is cold. A better mother would have shoved all those warm wooly items into a bag and carried them along, knowing they would be needed. A better mother would have found a way to convince the child to wear the warm items when it is cold outside to begin with. A better mother would not consider herself having a good day if her daughter is wearing clean (albeit not matching) clothes and managed to make it to school before the bell rang. Notice there was no mention of brushed hair or teeth in that sentence. What is it about winter that pulls out all of my parent-anxiety? In the summer, when it is warm and, well...sunny, she can prance almost naked in the yard looking at bugs, drinking iced tea (sugar AND caffeine, what was I thinking?), burning marshmallows and digging in the dirt. She can go to bed late, with dirty feet and a kool-aid smile, and a mother says to herself "She is building memories". But send the child to school ONE DAY without a hat, and you feel like the worst mother of the year. Fathers are different though. Fathers go by other rules. Fathers can feed the children ice cream for breakfast, put yesterdays dirty school clothes back on them the next day, and pack a can of ravioli with a can opener in their lunch. And never feel the slightest bit of inferiority while doing all that. It's a "git her done" mentality. The child was fed, wasn't she? The child was dressed, wasn't she? The child didn't die of diptheria, did she? Then all is well. Some day I might figure it all out. Someday I might be able to let things go and feel I did the best I could. Some day I might remember to bring the mittens. And someday I might remember to carry kleenex in my purse. But not today. Did I mention it was cold enough to freeze kazoodles out there today?