Lily is upset about noodles.
This is an understatement, the equivalent of saying that John McEnroe used to get upset at umpiresâ€™ calls at Wimbledon. 6-year-old Lily is upset about noodles. I put cold noodles in her lunch, not the hot ones she wanted, and as she picked her lunch up off the counter, the lack of a thermos tipped her off that this (like several other things this morning) has not gone according to plan.
She is tired. She is rushing through this Friday morning of her first week of first grade. The noodle question is unfixable at this late hour, but she canâ€™t let it go â€” sheâ€™s still alternating between sobbing and yelling at me as she puts on her shoes. Lilyâ€™s siblings (4,5, and 9) are quietly gathering their things with their heads down. The air positively shimmers with Lilyâ€™s rage and my barely contained reaction to it, and they have seen all of this play out before. The 9-year-old gently moves to help the 4-year-old zip a jacket. I suck in a deep breath and try to help Lily, who canâ€™t FIT her LUNCH INTO HER BACKPACK!!! She rears back and hits me.
â€œYou didnâ€™t pack my NOODLES!â€
This all ends with Lily in her room with her father outside her door while I drive the other children to school on time, but in the car, I am shaking with fury. Iâ€™ll have to go back for her now after I drop the others off, I will get a late start at work, Iâ€™m so mad I canâ€™t see straight, and sheâ€™s wrecked the whole day, just wrecked it! When I pick her up Iâ€™m going to make her sorry. Why does she have to be such a raving, raving, maniacal, daughter of a…
Yeah, well, that would be me.
I gave a little writing time to Lily today with this essay on Babble. I can’t count the number of times even in the last week that people have said to me of their kids “he makes me crazy because he’s just like me,” and that is what happens to me with Lily–she reminds me so much of me. And in so many ways that’s not a good thing…