So there’s that.

So there's that.

Stupidly early each morning, when it’s still more night than day, Husband gets up and goes to work. By the time Poss and I open our eyes, he’s been up for hours, and by the time I arrive at my desk he’s done more than half a standard day’s work. He sees the sun rise each morning, and most days he sees the sun set from his office.

It’s always been that way. When Poss came along, the two of us formed our own little routine. As she’s grown, we’ve muddled through. Bit by bit I’ve learned how she operates, and while mornings can still be an exercise in negotiations worthy of a UN nomination of some kind, we seem to get out the door on time more days than not.

But the fact that I can say that represents how far we’ve come in the past year. They say you often hit rock bottom before you bounce back up again, or so the theory goes, and we certainly hit that point the day she locked me out of the house.

I’ll pause while you giggle. Go on. I can laugh about it now too, but at the time, it was both terrifying and hugely infuriating.

It was one of those days when she refused to get dressed. Refused to even get out of bed. We argued, I tried to forcibly dress her and she screamed at me. We ended up in tears and to save both our sanity, I made the rookie mistake of stepping outside to catch my breath before heading back into the fray.

She took that minute of mindlessness on my part to lock the door. And then run around the back of the house and lock that door too. In the time it took me to notice what she was doing, she was back at the front of the house and peering out the window at me, all the while pulling the blinds across.

Creepy? Yes. It also meant that not only was I locked outside, but I couldn’t see inside. While one, very small, part of me had to admire her quick thinking, the other part of me was very much hitting the panic stations.

Thankfully I had my phone in my pocket (because when don’t I?) and was able to call husband who suggested I call the police. Never one to take a first opinion, I then called mum, who insisted on trying to speak to Poss before we called the police.

Mum spoke to her calmly through the door, on speaker phone the whole time. I slumped down against the door, trying not to be hysterical, holding the phone under the door, while she wove her words of magic and eventually Poss sheepishly opened the door a crack.

Mum made me promise not to yell at her in that moment. Not to push her further, that we were both beyond our point of rational. Simply get her dressed and take her to school. So we got dressed and she went to school, silently.

When she got in the car that afternoon, she cried the whole way home. And that old saying about “if my child is giving me a hard time, it’s likely she’s having a hard time” rang loud and true in my head. It wasn’t about me, it wasn’t about my ability to get her ready, it was about her. And how desperately unhappy she was.

This morning she didn’t want to get up. I cajoled and I begged. I encouraged and I yelled. Eventually she got up, and she got dressed.

It might have been a tough morning, but she went to school, there wasn’t any tears and nobody got locked out. So there’s that.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Comments

  1. Sharron Redmond says:

    Sorry I giggled ……., especially at the thought of you holding you phone under the door 😀 Maybe I should try a Poss and lock my husband out !!!!!!!

  2. I did not giggle at the locked door, I held my breath! Great writing as usual 🙂 Gkad today went smoothly, I totall understand. Tuesdays are pj days for us so this morning is delightful x
    Christie recently posted..{tutorial, kind of} How to be a BAD food bloggerMy Profile

Leave a Comment

*

CommentLuv badge