Contradictions

Today, a study in contradictions.

My daughter has always been a can-do, take charge kind of toddler. "Let me do it!" has been her mantra ever since she learned to form the "d" sound. Playground equipment, pouring cereal, driving, conjugating latin, splitting hairs, she wants to try her hand at everything. Sometimes it's very hard to dissuade her that she should let me do some things, like drive the car, for her. I believe she takes after The Doctor in this respect.

She will often get herself dressed. That's something I like to encourage, even if it means my daughter goes to school with outfits mixing several different patterns of stripes.

I shouldn't be surprised when she starts talking about subjects that have never been discussed at home. She must be taking initiative at school and learning things outside her home experience. For instance, she correctly identified that the boy across the street was playing "Basketball, Daddy, BASKETBALL!"

"How do you know about basketball?"

"Daddy! That's the basketball. We don't have that at home. We have soccer. Right daddy? BASKETBALL! You can't play, [my son], you're too little!"

My son drooled at her.

Another good example: while in the Base Exchange, she was examining some items. "Care Bears, Daddy, CARE BEARS!!"

I have no idea where she learned about Care Bears. Probably from the same people that taught her about Disney Princesses.

I told you those stories of my daughter's initiative in order to tell you this one.

Weekday mornings can be hectic. If the kids wake up late, I sometimes have to push them to hurry up so they can get to school so Daddy can get to work on time. Issues arise when my daughter wants to take her time getting dressed.

Mind you, it's not because she's deliberating over her sartorial choices, she just gets distracted easily. She'll want to play with her dollhouse, or her pajamas. Maybe she'll try to insist on wearing pajamas to school. Perhaps she's worried about my son entering her room. It could be that she's distracted by all of this, all while I'm trying to get everyone out the door.

So I start suggesting clothing she might like to wear.

"You want to wear this shirt?"

"No."

"OK, how about this one?"

"No."

"You didn't even look at it."

[Looks at shirt] "No."

"OK, you pick a shirt out of your drawer then."

"I want to wear my pajamas! Pajamas, Daddy, PAJAMAS!"

And so forth. I tried a secret parent trick.

"Oh, I think I know what you want."

"What?"

"This one's special."

"What??"

"It's right here!"

"What, Daddy?"

"This shirt! It's the one you want, right?"

"YEAH! That shirt, Daddy! I want to wear that one."

I still got the touch. Time to keep the forward momentum.

"And these pants go with it! Isn't that a nice outfit?"

"Yeah. Thanks Daddy!"

I made that last quote up. She only thanks me for food products that I give to her. I should probably start working on saying "thank you" in other contexts.

"Great! Get dressed so we can go downstairs..."

So she gets dressed. We make it to the car and drive to school. When I pick her up in the afternoon, her teacher pulls me aside.

"Your daughter's wearing a pair of CDC panties today."

"Why, did she have an accident? She's still wearing the clothes from this morning..."

"No, no accident, she didn't wear any panties to school today."

"Huh?"

"When I asked her why not, she said 'Daddy didn't give me any!'"

Ah. Forgot that step.

So much for initiative.

Quietly Driving Myself Nuts

There's a relentlessness to being a single parent. Have you ever braced yourself against a cold wind that wouldn't stop? It's like that. I like that analogy because it's a fancy way of saying there's a difference between responsibility and sole responsibility.

I can't help thinking that my son's ear infection the week after The Doctor departed was my fault, somehow. Did I let him swim in the tub? Did his sister do something while I wasn't looking? Are his toys clean enough? Did I wash behind his ears? Should I buy an otoscope so I can check them myself? How much do those things cost anyway? (I checked - between $100 and $150, possibly less, but I don't know what to look for in a good otoscope.) I know there was something I should have done differently, I'm certain of it.

His ear is mostly fine now. There's some fluid left in one ear, but it's not bothering him. The fluid will probably drain.

My daughter had a tantrum on the way home from day care this week. Was it something I did? Probably. I can't give in to a tantrum, right? I have to wait it out, while all the other parents and children are looking at me. I can feel the weight of their pity. I can also hear them thinking that my daughter's mother wouldn't have let this happen.

Is this a change in behavior I should worry about? Do I need to make a counselor's appointment? Is this an example of "acting out" - misplaced frustration from my daughter missing her mother? Will this scar her for life? Am I solely responsible for this sudden irreparable damage to my daughter's psyche? Will she not be able to maintain adult relationships because of this tantrum? Am I possibly overreacting?

Are the kids getting enough liquid? Too much? Too much salt? Not enough? Is that a new mole? (Not on the kids, on me.) What the hell am I making for dinner tonight, anyway? Was my daughter using words when she was my son's current age? Should I be worried if he isn't? What do the books say? Do I have time to look it up right now? No - my son is eating a rock. How did he find a rock inside the house? Why would he eat a rock in the first place? How strong a "no" should I give him? Doesn't matter, he laughs at the word "no" anyway. How do I fix that? Now my daughter is chiming in, telling her brother "no" for me. Is that good? When is bedtime? Are they sleeping enough? Too much?

Did I remember to tell my daughter to put on underwear as she got dressed for school today?

Like a constant wind that one braces against; the internal monologue of a single parent.