It’s amazing how different two girls can be out of the same womb. The Madness has made a career out of complete emotional shut downs alternating with self-flagellation when riled.
She is my goth child, my little Emo girl. She will one day wear all black and unflattering makeup and date a guy she meets in detention, all to express her disappointment in my parenting skills.
When she gets really angry, she trashes her room. She’ll chew the bindings off her favorite books. She will eviscerate a beloved stuffy. The only thing she won’t do, is tell me what the F* is wrong.
I’ve tried holding her, scolding her, coddling her, bribing her and ignoring her. Nothing works. The storm rages and, aside from it being infuriating, the only damage done is to her own little world. It’s a pattern I’ve grown accustomed to.
So when Jo refused to put on her shoes and remove herself from my vehicle, I just left the door open and walked away. I sat on the porch where I could wait her out in comfort and watch. She closed the door. A minute later the door opens and she pops out with a big smile and no pants.
“I peed in your car,” she announces, sauntering up to join me on the porch steps.
I’m flummoxed. “You PEED in my car!? Why would you…what…why didn’t you…” Words failed me. I pretended to cry. “You’ve made me so sad,” I whined, “Are you happy now, you’ve made mommy sad?”
“Yes! Jo happy now!”
No sure if this is a more or less healthy form of self-expression.
She still wasn’t wearing shoes.