Sometimes the words do sink in

Oh, there are days when you just have to say “was that my child?”

Friday was a half-day for the girls. The little one had a movie-date with her Brownie troop, the middle one came home, and the oldest one asked for ten dollars so she could walk downtown to have lunch with friends–friends I’d never heard of and had never met.  Since she had never asked to do this before and tends not to initiate outings like this and since she and her sister have been downtown on several occasions without me, and, finally, since she had the cell phone, I said okay.

The middle one and I ran off to have lunch and do our Target shopping (but got stuck in a road repaving hell and just came back home, instead), and then my husband and the furnace/AC repair guys (the temp dipped to below 40 and our brand new furnace wasn’t heating) showed up, and then I got a phone call from work, and then in the middle of all that, my cell phone rang. My middle daughter answered while I was talking on the home phone and she kept interupting me and I kept getting irritated because I knew from the ring tone that it was the girls’ cell phone.  Finally, my middle daughter said loudly and insistently, “she said it’s a ‘no questions asked policy thing and she needs you right away.”

So I did what any jangled mom would do. I told the woman from work that I’d call her back from my cell and I took care of the rest of my business (that may have come out wrong) as I drove down to the school to pick up my daughter who I saw sitting under a tree with her knees up to her chest. 

You know, you tell your kids to pick up their socks, practice their tubas and brush their teeth and its as if you are the wind blowing through their ears. They don’t hear a thing. So you never know if they hear you on what’s really important and when they not only hear it, but get it, it just leaves you breathless. 

You see, I’ve told her and told her sister a couple of things over the years and more than once, of course:  1)  Use me as an excuse (ie, you don’t have to do what your friends are doing and if you don’t feel comfortable, then you can always say ‘my mom said I can’t,’ and sulk appropriately so they know it isn’t because you aren’t cool but because your mother is the biggest doofus in the entire world); and 2) I will come get you, no questions asked (ie, if you are at a party and you want to come home and either you or your friends are doing or have done something you’d rather I didn’ t know about, call me and I will come get you … no questions asked).

So, when I heard the “no questions asked” language, I responded as quickly as I could–but I still couldn’t help myself from asking questions. She jumped in the van and I said, “are you okay?”  and then “what happened.”  Funny, though, she went ahead and answered the questions without squirming or reminding me I said “no questions.”  So, I guess I need to rename it: some questions asked.

What happened is one of the new friends suggested they go to the park near the middle school after lunch, knowing that there was a fight planned there. When my daughter figured out what was going on, she just booked it out of there, found a safe place to call, and invoked the code.  She was scared.  After I asked her if she was okay and a few other questions, I asked her: “should we be calling someone and getting an adult involved?”  No, she said.  They were just talking, yelling she said, and, since I had to learn to trust her instincts on how to get out of a situation that made her uncomfortable, I trusted her instincts that this was something best left to children to settle. Perhaps I was wrong–I have yet to decide if I did the wrong or right thing in that moment, but I knew she just wanted to get out of there and get home, so that’s what we did.

She asked me not to tell her dad about the whole thing and I asked her why (another pesky question). “Because he blows things all up,” she said, meaning out of proportion, but you get the drift.  I told her I couldn’t imagine her father getting mad at her for doing exactly what we have asked her to do–and a brave thing as well and I thanked her for being brave and calling us–but I let her make the choice of when and how to share the situation with her dad. And she chose to do so.

Long story short: something sunk in.  In other words: it worked.  In other other words: I’d rather have her socks on the floor and her tuba unpracticed if it gets her to listen to her gut and even, sometimes, her mother.

Please, please, please let this be a sign of things to come. Please, please, please let her listen to that small voice within that says ‘get me the hell out of here.  And please, please, please let me always hear her, even when the other phone is ringing, the furnace isn’t working, and the nattering sounds and events of the normal are loudly competing for my attention.

And thank you, thank you, thank you, for keeping my smart girl safe.

Amen.

P.S.  This one is for MsKitty.

Advertisements

About TinaLBPorter

I write poetry and blog at www.tinalbporter.com. And I'm thrilled to be writing with you.
This entry was posted in Gratitude, Parenting. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Sometimes the words do sink in

  1. CeeJay says:

    Wise of you to realize that kids need Mom and Dad as an excuse for not doing what they didn’t want to do anyway but were getting pressured by peers to do and for knowing that kids can get into some pretty bad situations and need an escape route without questions. (Though my experience is that you usually hear all the answers you want to know plus some without asking them. If the situation was scary enough for them to use the escape route, they usually want to talk about it.)

    You and your daughter are building a great relationship that will carry her through the tough times. One of the greatest complements my kids ever paid me was saying that they felt they could talk to me when they were in a jam even if they knew I wouldn’t approve of the way they managed to get into it.

    Like

  2. Yeah! Woo-hoo, Loud Applause & Cheering…

    I love it when children listen – and trust themselves in tight spots – and show that they’ve learned essential lessons. Good for her!

    Hallelujah that she trusts you, too. Good job, you!

    Like

  3. radicalmama says:

    Wow, that is awesome! And I share all your please please pleases for my girls. I think that every time she does something right.

    Like

  4. uuMomma says:

    Thanks mskitty and kaleigh–you all rock.

    Mom: we’re working on those skills for middle one. She freaked out the other day when my cell phone rang and it was just the two of us here. “Mom, here!” she nearly shrieked. It was the same shriek she used when the toilet didn’t overflow just a little, but poured out into the hallway and down into the nearly complete basement. So, I said to her, after the cell phone call: “if you use the same shriek for my phone ringing as you do for the toilet overflowing, do you see why I may not come quickly enough when you need me to?” Still, she did the right thing. It all worked out. You must have done a few things right, yourself!

    Like

  5. Jan says:

    Great, great, great. She owns that she is smart and perceptive. She needs to be reminded often that the smarts she used in that situation will get her through lots of things in the rest of her life.

    Middle One owns that she did the right thing when it really was needed (impolite as it was) and that’s info she needs to see as a skill that will help her thoughout her life.

    You, on the other hand, get to own that you are doing so many things right. Congratulations all around. Hugs around.

    Like

  6. kaleigh says:

    Great post, and great job to both of you. You, for providing your daughter with a “safe place” with you, and her, for recognizing that.

    Like

  7. mskitty says:

    Wow! Just Wow! Your beautiful girl did the right thing and she is safe and you are so proud. I am glad for you, Momma. It’s one of the most wonderful joys of mommahood and you got it! Thanks for such a great post!

    Like

Comments are closed.