It's All Part of Growing Up: Drama Queens
This morning The Child tried to get out of going to school. She began with the time honored, "I have something I want to say and I don't want you to talk until I'm finished". This always means she's going to pitch something to which I'll be saying "No".
She proceeds to make the case for staying home so that she can work on her story (which is due Friday and which she told me last night she didn't have to work on because she was almost done), read ("for like 3 hours, so my class can win the Pizza Party for the class with the most minutes"), work on her math facts, practise typing, discover a cure for cancer and generally improve her mind all day long.
I listened and then asked, "So, why don't you want to go to school?"
She said it had nothing to do with that, she just wanted time to work on all these projects.
"You can do all that when you get home".
"But Muh-oommmm, I'm going to want to play soccer with the Gang when I get home".
"Sounds like your priorities are all mixed up, then", I said, ever so calmly. "School work comes first, then soccer. If you want to get these things done then..."
"But Muh-oommmmm..."
And like that, for about 12 rounds. Have I mentioned that The Child is not one for taking "no" for an answer?
"Listen," I finally said, "You asked to talk. You talked. I listened. And I say 'no'. You're going to school. You have 15 days left and you're this close to making honors. You need to be in school and you're going to school".
Then the truth came out. She wants a break from "the drama".
Oh. The drama. 2 (very typical) things are going on. One is that a friend has started talking trash about her in order to ingratiate herself with the "popular kids". Said "friend", btw, never even particularly had friends until The Child came along. Not to mention, I hauled her petty little butt to school for the first 6 months of the year, plus took her to volleyball games, without so much as a 'thanks a lot' or a couple bucks for gas. Which, when I was doing it, didn't bother me at all. The kid is in a single parent home, it was totally on the way and I didn't do it for any other reason than that it was the right thing to do. But I'll be honest, now I kinda want to smack her.
The other drama owes to a breakup between a 7th grader and an 8th grader, with some other girl being blamed for the break up even though the parties involved have repeatedly said she had nothing to do with it. The Child is getting sucked in because she's friends with the girl who's being blamed. Everyone is getting all Capulet and Montague about the whole stupid thing. Which you and I know is the way of adolescents, but still.
And you know what I really hate? The fact that I show up to school for a meeting today and all these simpering little chicklets, who are being nasty to my kid, smile honey at me and say, "Hi, Mrs. T!" I'd as soon crack their heads together as look at them, snivelling little rat-faced gits.
This morning I told The Child a story about a girl who made my life a misery throughout high school. She was a petty, gossiping thing whose brother I dated off and on. When we were on I was the apple of the entire family's eye. (Perhaps, now that I think on it, they were so nasty because they only had the one eye). But when we were off, oh. my. yord. And the whole family got into the act, the parents included. They would snipe at me, say horrible things behind my back, complain to my parents about what a wretched child I was. But in some ways the oldest daughter was the worst because I saw her on campus every day and she never failed to say cutting things and talk about me. It was so bad that even after I graduated and moved away from home there were still one or two incidents, the last occurring when I was 30 frakking years old. I mean, come the frak on! The words "get a life" spring to mind.
So I told The Child about all this, including my eventual realization that there was never going to be a change in the behavior of the girl or her family. The only thing that freed me from their drama was the decision to not engage. I told her that there will always be people who just aren't happy unless they are trying to make someone else miserable and that life is too short to play their petty little game.
Oh, and btw, I was regaling her with this tale on the way to school. I walked her in (since I had my meeting) and I said, "Child, I'm telling you all this to help you see that this drama you're experiencing is nothing new. Everyone has a story like this. But you get to decide whether or not you're going to play along. Stand firm in the truth you know about yourself, focus on the good friends you have and let the rest of them stew in their own juice".
She smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom". I love when that happens.
She proceeds to make the case for staying home so that she can work on her story (which is due Friday and which she told me last night she didn't have to work on because she was almost done), read ("for like 3 hours, so my class can win the Pizza Party for the class with the most minutes"), work on her math facts, practise typing, discover a cure for cancer and generally improve her mind all day long.
I listened and then asked, "So, why don't you want to go to school?"
She said it had nothing to do with that, she just wanted time to work on all these projects.
"You can do all that when you get home".
"But Muh-oommmm, I'm going to want to play soccer with the Gang when I get home".
"Sounds like your priorities are all mixed up, then", I said, ever so calmly. "School work comes first, then soccer. If you want to get these things done then..."
"But Muh-oommmmm..."
And like that, for about 12 rounds. Have I mentioned that The Child is not one for taking "no" for an answer?
"Listen," I finally said, "You asked to talk. You talked. I listened. And I say 'no'. You're going to school. You have 15 days left and you're this close to making honors. You need to be in school and you're going to school".
Then the truth came out. She wants a break from "the drama".
Oh. The drama. 2 (very typical) things are going on. One is that a friend has started talking trash about her in order to ingratiate herself with the "popular kids". Said "friend", btw, never even particularly had friends until The Child came along. Not to mention, I hauled her petty little butt to school for the first 6 months of the year, plus took her to volleyball games, without so much as a 'thanks a lot' or a couple bucks for gas. Which, when I was doing it, didn't bother me at all. The kid is in a single parent home, it was totally on the way and I didn't do it for any other reason than that it was the right thing to do. But I'll be honest, now I kinda want to smack her.
The other drama owes to a breakup between a 7th grader and an 8th grader, with some other girl being blamed for the break up even though the parties involved have repeatedly said she had nothing to do with it. The Child is getting sucked in because she's friends with the girl who's being blamed. Everyone is getting all Capulet and Montague about the whole stupid thing. Which you and I know is the way of adolescents, but still.
And you know what I really hate? The fact that I show up to school for a meeting today and all these simpering little chicklets, who are being nasty to my kid, smile honey at me and say, "Hi, Mrs. T!" I'd as soon crack their heads together as look at them, snivelling little rat-faced gits.
This morning I told The Child a story about a girl who made my life a misery throughout high school. She was a petty, gossiping thing whose brother I dated off and on. When we were on I was the apple of the entire family's eye. (Perhaps, now that I think on it, they were so nasty because they only had the one eye). But when we were off, oh. my. yord. And the whole family got into the act, the parents included. They would snipe at me, say horrible things behind my back, complain to my parents about what a wretched child I was. But in some ways the oldest daughter was the worst because I saw her on campus every day and she never failed to say cutting things and talk about me. It was so bad that even after I graduated and moved away from home there were still one or two incidents, the last occurring when I was 30 frakking years old. I mean, come the frak on! The words "get a life" spring to mind.
So I told The Child about all this, including my eventual realization that there was never going to be a change in the behavior of the girl or her family. The only thing that freed me from their drama was the decision to not engage. I told her that there will always be people who just aren't happy unless they are trying to make someone else miserable and that life is too short to play their petty little game.
Oh, and btw, I was regaling her with this tale on the way to school. I walked her in (since I had my meeting) and I said, "Child, I'm telling you all this to help you see that this drama you're experiencing is nothing new. Everyone has a story like this. But you get to decide whether or not you're going to play along. Stand firm in the truth you know about yourself, focus on the good friends you have and let the rest of them stew in their own juice".
She smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom". I love when that happens.
cobbled together by Moi at 11:08 AM
21 Comments:
That shotgun of mine? It's not just for shooting boys.
I knew I could count on Uncle JP!
I love your stories like that. I can't wait to meet you guys.
I would introduce The Child to The Little but he's been placed in juvenile detention. I'll think of some other activity for her.
Yeah, I think we can find some amusements for her that don't involved juvenile delinquents (poor Little).
I've made the mistake of looking up old HS friends on Classmates.com and sadly - the drama even continues there! Good on you for giving her the rise above it speech without using the metaphorical "cream" analogy.
Oh, the drama. I remember it well. Mostly, because it never really ended and continues to this day (people being people and all) and so I only have to think back to last week or so ...
(Yer a good mom. Just sayin'.)
Hat, cream is for whipping and glopping on dessert.
Red, Yeah, I know, it never ends. I'll have to clue her into that eventually. But one must have a coping strategy, mustn't one? Disengagement works pretty well for me.
You could tell her about me being called "Flipper" all through junior high and beyond. And about running for class office 8 times - and losing 8 times. Or about the time that girl, who was the sister of that boy, who liked that other girl.... oh yeah, focus Gina. You done good, Mom! And I'll be at the ready, handing jp the shells for his shotgun, just in case.
Ah, memories. My boyfriend in high school had like 100 horrible nicknames that the other kids called him. They made his life a living hell, not the least because he was gay. I know, gay boyfriend--it was the 80s and you did what you could to help each other. But despite that past, he just went to the 25 year reunion, and by some miracle they had all turned into liberal, gay loving, accepting souls. My nemesis--oh, I remember that sarcastic, taunting s.o.b. who used to force me to listen to stories about bass fishing--well, he saw the light when he did his residency in the AIDS ward of a city hospital. Then he dedicated his life to AIDS patient advocacy. If I had not heard this from the mouth of my old gay boyfriend, I would not have believed it possible.
That, my dear Bad Alice, is a truly inspiring tale. Thank you.
I'll say it again.
You rock.
Iwanski, Sometimes I roll.
Good to know you've got JP's back, Gina. His hand gets a little shaky when he's defending the honor of his neice.
yes! let the Child know that I had this huge drama story in my life too. one sniveling girl causing so much misery for me! she's not alone, you're not alone, we're not alone! hooray!
*Also, try getting through all of high school when all the guys in 8th grade think you ratted em out on some sexual harrassment issues. yeah. senior year of high school some guy comes up and says "remember that time you blah blah blah..." THE WORDS "GET A LIFE" SPRUNG TO MIND.
/end rant (whom am i kidding? i could go on for hours. *sigh*)
it's 8pm, i just got home from work, read your bloggy world, and now i just want to reach out and hug your child and tell her that the drama will never end but she will rise above. especially since she's got you for a mum. cuz my mum helped me through it all too. dads generally help/rock too.
Even at my ripe old age, I remember miseries from high school. I will put on my best witch hat and put a great big festering zit on all of their faces. As for me? I would have told my kid "Open the door, get on the bus and go to school, NOW."
My hand is not shaky. The shotgun is just, well, really heavy.
My son Zach is a drama queen. I try to remember how everything from age 13 to 17 was the beginging or the end of the world.
My husband just tells them to cut the *hit. You did a great job. It is wonderful that she'll talk with you about it all.
ahhhh middle school....dontcha miss is?
Kendall
You're such a good mom. Good for you and for The Child.
You're writing continues to amaze me.
"snivelling little rat-faced gits."
That line alone was worth the read, not to mention the advice I will steal and store for future use.
Thanks, L
Hugs right back atcha, Stacy!
Rosie, Yes! Cast a good zit-making spell on 'em. Or just turn them all into the toads they are. But toads with zits.
Poodle, you need to work on your upper body strength. What if Gina is running late?
Mouse, truly the whole "talking with me about it" thing is the best. I know it could disappear at any moment should she decide to become one of those mopey teens but so far it's a blessing for sure.
Kendall, yeah, not so much.
Shucks, Alan.
While not an original line, Roma, it is one of my favorites. Stop by any time, won'tcha?
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