By the time my world revolved around third grade, I was already on the outside. I never quite fit where I grew up and everyone knew it. That means Valentine's parties at school were a giant ball of anxiety for me.
I hated them.
Would I get any Valentine's cards? Would kids write rude things on them? It was all sorts of dumb. (Partly it was dumb because I allowed it to take up space in my head. None of it should have mattered.)
Alexis is a very different kid, though. She looooooooooves everything about school parties, especially the ones that revolve around eating, crafts, and giving kind notes to friends. She was so excited about this year's Valentine's party that she picked out cards in early January.
Yes, I said "picked out cards." As in, at a store. They were like $2 or something. I'm sorry to ruin your image of me, but I don't do the Pinterest crazy Valentine thing. It's awesome if you do, I just choose to use my time in another way. Like, I might eat cake while you slave over Valentines. Priorities, you understand.
When it finally became February, Alexis started writing out the cards. She started with her besties, carefully crafting personal notes on each and every one.
But then she got to the boys on her list. She slammed on the brakes.
"Mom, I can't give ANY of these to the boys. They're too nice!"
I was confused, so I asked questions. It turned out she didn't want to say anything that implied that any boys might be cute, nice, funny, sweet, a bff, or anything other than purely plutonic and an arm's length away.
"I need cards that just say 'Happy Valentine's Day!'" she continued.
Her rules got harder. She didn't want any hearts, XOXOXO ... nothing. No affection. I considered ignoring her over-the-top request, but we're talking about $2. It's not like I was going to be truly inconvenienced if I grabbed another box while I was out.
I succeeded in my mission to find completely bland cards. That's what matters.
But what I adore is that Alexis thinks boys are icky. Can that please last about ten more years?
First of all, thanks for being so fantastic. I mean, you're adorable and tiny and so great, especially when you smile and giggle. Life is better with you in it.
But, here's the thing. When you're not happy? NOBODY IS HAPPY. I understand your frustration, of course. It would be super hard knowing exactly what you want but to not be able to get other people to understand your needs. Why we can't figure out that grunt and gesture means you want food, I don't know.
It's totally understandable that you lose it over food. Definitely.
Losing it over a dirty diaper is in the realm of reasonable as well. If my butt were rubbing against the things that we find in your diapers I'd throw a hissy fit, too. We really should be better at figuring out when a diaper is what is making you crankalicious.
Sleep is where I lose my understanding for your brand of crazy. Here's the thing, sleep is LITERALLY the only thing in this world that you can control. You can't walk over to the fridge and grab what you want to eat. You don't know how to wipe your own butt yet. Heck, you don't even get a say in what you wear. But closing your eyes and going to sleep? YOU CAN DO THAT!
At any time, even!
We adults don't have that option, for the record. We actually don't get to decide when we're going to sleep. Sometimes we have to use toothpicks and caffeine to keep our eyes open through a long meeting or whatever. You, though? You can absolutely close your eyes! Right now! And ten seconds from now! WHENEVER!
That's a whole lot of power.
So, maybe do me a favor. Maybe instead of yelling at grown-ups when you're tired, how about you just close your eyes and do something about that yucky sleepy feeling? You can do it! Without permission! We can't stop you!
Take control, babies.
Sleep whenever you want.
And leave us grown-ups out of your drama.
That Lady Who Has Been Getting Yelled At By Mila For Half An Hour Because She Wants To Be Asleep