Parenting Without A License

A Cure For What Ails You

Posted by Kimberly on June 22nd, 2008 — Posted in The Ladies, Diva Girl, Zen Baby, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat

What do you when you want to eat the children?  Turn them into cotton candy confections, of course!

I’ve had some Hannah Montana Hair Colour Sticks tucked away for a while now.  When I bought them, I thought that it would be a fun First Day of Summer Vacation project to (temporarily and with a product guaranteed to wash right out) dye The Ladies’ hair funky colours. Last night, as I was contemplating eating my own young, my gaze fell on these stick and I thought, “why not.”

Yes, I was still Very. Angry. with Diva Girl.  Forget ebay, I would have happily PAID to have her tweenilcious self taken off my hands.  But seething anger and resentment wasn’t really getting either of us anywhere, and I didn’t really see that ending soon without one of us making some sort of grand gesture to end the hostilities.  And I think we all know that it wasn’t going to be her; even if she had, if we’re being honest here, it’s not like I was in any mood to accept any sort of peace offering anyway. So, it was up to me to make the move and pull us all out of the pit into which we’d descended over the course of one spectacularly crappy day.

One would think that showering a child whose staggering sense of entitlement and lack of gratitude had caused many of the day’s conflicts would be counterintuitive, but it seemed to work.   United in our common project, the stresses, slights, and slurs of the day fell away.  She remembered that in addition to being the Meanest. Mom. Ever. I can also be the most fun and I remember that in addition to being a raging brat, my oldest daughter is also funny, fun, and kind of cool.

Regan was just happy that the yelling stopped.  The pretty colours in her hair were just gravy, so far as she was concerned.

So yeah, no regrets over either giving one more gift to a child who didn’t seem able to appreciate what she already had, or about turning my children into something more likely to be found in a circus tent than a schoolroom   Not even when Diva Girl reminded me that her class will be presenting the end of school mass on Tuesday. At which she’s doing the reading.

Because could there be a more literal representation of the direction “Be joyful in hope” than these two?  What’s more joyful than being allowed to dye your hair hot pink and electric blue three days before school ends?  And what’s more hopeful  than the mother  who allows it?