Saturday was my grocery shopping day. We were also going to a basketball game for the local team. It just so happened that The Hubby, Bug, and I all had a shirt/hat/jacket/scarf with the team's logo. A, however, had outgrown her only team t-shirt over the summer, so I thought that on our way into town we could stop at a consignment shop to look for something for her to wear.
On the way in I told the kids my plans. I explained to Bug that since he already had lots of team stuff, we weren't looking for things for him and probably wouldn't buy him anything.
His response: a very calm, "mmm hmm, yes ma'am."
I was elated. No fit. No whining. I didn't feel like beating my head on the steering wheel. I spent the next 10 minutes of the drive reveling in the joyful atmosphere.
We got to the consignment shop, found A something she could wear (I have recently found a new appreciation for dressing rooms--I love them! It's so nice for A to be able to try something on and decide then and there whether she hates it and can't wear it because of her SPD) and the entire 30 minutes, Bug was quiet and patient (a great feat for a 5-year-old boy who doesn't love shopping).
As we headed to check out a sweet voice piped up, "Mommy, can I get something?" It was Bug. *No! I shall stick to my guns* I thought.
"No buddy, remember, you don't need anything," I reminded him. Then I remembered he did need something. He was in desperate need of tennis shoes. His current shoes were so worn through, I could actually stick my finger through the toes.
I told the kids my plan. And immediately I was sorry. So, very sorry.
"WHAT?! YOU'RE BUYING HIM SHOES?!," A not-so-calmly yelled (as she stands there with her hair in a messy ponytail--yay for natural curls-- in a khaki skirt, t-shirt, and pink/black snow boots on a 70* day...).
My shoulders drooped immediately and I mentally kicked myself in the rear (repeatedly). Why couldn't I have remembered he needed shoes earlier so I could have prepared them before we left? Why? Why can't I be perfect?
See, A is my gift/possession obsessed kid. That, combined with the fact that she just pushed herself to the limit sensory-wise by trying on clothes and enduring weird fabrics/smells/tags and the fact that she hadn't had her Celexa (anxiety med) before we left (she usually takes it with breakfast, and while I'm not sure that that made a difference in her response, but it certainly didn't help) and the fact that she is shoe obsessed made for a miserable 20 minutes.
She tensed, crossed her arms, scowled at me and proceeded to tell me in a not-so-calm way that she Loves shoes and that it wasn't fair that I was buying Bug shoes and not her.
Judging by this reaction, one might think I'm the kind of parent who gives her kids any and everything they ask for. I don't. I have never been that parent. A is 8. Eight. We have been having the following conversation for years now. Just because one kid genuinely needs something doesn't mean the other automatically gets the same thing That being fair is not equality. That fair is getting what one needs.
I reminded her that she has So Many shoes they don't all fit in her shoe drawer (I left out the fact that of the 15 pairs she has, she can only actually wear about 5 thanks to SPD). I also pointed out the fact that Bug actually Needed shoes...that I could stick my finger through the toes of the ones he had on.
Now, I would expect that most rational 8 year olds would hear that and think, "oh. I guess he does need shoes. I just want them. Ok, fine." pout a bit, but understand nonetheless.
But not A. Oh no. She continued to present her case. Over. And over. And Over.
So, after explaining the need vs want of the situation and telling her that it was ok for her to be mad, but that her behavior was not acceptable, I quit engaging in *conversation* (argument, really) with her.
And we survived. Although I'm quite sure that once we get these kids raised I'll have a permanent facial tick.
On the way in I told the kids my plans. I explained to Bug that since he already had lots of team stuff, we weren't looking for things for him and probably wouldn't buy him anything.
His response: a very calm, "mmm hmm, yes ma'am."
I was elated. No fit. No whining. I didn't feel like beating my head on the steering wheel. I spent the next 10 minutes of the drive reveling in the joyful atmosphere.
We got to the consignment shop, found A something she could wear (I have recently found a new appreciation for dressing rooms--I love them! It's so nice for A to be able to try something on and decide then and there whether she hates it and can't wear it because of her SPD) and the entire 30 minutes, Bug was quiet and patient (a great feat for a 5-year-old boy who doesn't love shopping).
As we headed to check out a sweet voice piped up, "Mommy, can I get something?" It was Bug. *No! I shall stick to my guns* I thought.
"No buddy, remember, you don't need anything," I reminded him. Then I remembered he did need something. He was in desperate need of tennis shoes. His current shoes were so worn through, I could actually stick my finger through the toes.
I told the kids my plan. And immediately I was sorry. So, very sorry.
"WHAT?! YOU'RE BUYING HIM SHOES?!," A not-so-calmly yelled (as she stands there with her hair in a messy ponytail--yay for natural curls-- in a khaki skirt, t-shirt, and pink/black snow boots on a 70* day...).
My shoulders drooped immediately and I mentally kicked myself in the rear (repeatedly). Why couldn't I have remembered he needed shoes earlier so I could have prepared them before we left? Why? Why can't I be perfect?
See, A is my gift/possession obsessed kid. That, combined with the fact that she just pushed herself to the limit sensory-wise by trying on clothes and enduring weird fabrics/smells/tags and the fact that she hadn't had her Celexa (anxiety med) before we left (she usually takes it with breakfast, and while I'm not sure that that made a difference in her response, but it certainly didn't help) and the fact that she is shoe obsessed made for a miserable 20 minutes.
She tensed, crossed her arms, scowled at me and proceeded to tell me in a not-so-calm way that she Loves shoes and that it wasn't fair that I was buying Bug shoes and not her.
Judging by this reaction, one might think I'm the kind of parent who gives her kids any and everything they ask for. I don't. I have never been that parent. A is 8. Eight. We have been having the following conversation for years now. Just because one kid genuinely needs something doesn't mean the other automatically gets the same thing That being fair is not equality. That fair is getting what one needs.
I reminded her that she has So Many shoes they don't all fit in her shoe drawer (I left out the fact that of the 15 pairs she has, she can only actually wear about 5 thanks to SPD). I also pointed out the fact that Bug actually Needed shoes...that I could stick my finger through the toes of the ones he had on.
Now, I would expect that most rational 8 year olds would hear that and think, "oh. I guess he does need shoes. I just want them. Ok, fine." pout a bit, but understand nonetheless.
But not A. Oh no. She continued to present her case. Over. And over. And Over.
So, after explaining the need vs want of the situation and telling her that it was ok for her to be mad, but that her behavior was not acceptable, I quit engaging in *conversation* (argument, really) with her.
And we survived. Although I'm quite sure that once we get these kids raised I'll have a permanent facial tick.
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