me: Get your piano books, it’s almost time to go to piano lessons.
her (laying on the floor): I’m not going to piano.
me: Yes, you are. Get your books, please.
her: Why do I have to go to piano? I already went this week! I’m not going!
me (trying to stay calm and not end up in a shouting match with her): You did Not go this week, you switched lessons with your brother. If you do not go and get your books and get ready, you will get to pay for your own lesson, and there will be no soccer tomorrow.
her (begrudgingly getting up off the floor): Why do I always have to go to piano? It’s not fair!
her (from the other room as she’s getting her books): Why don’t I ever get to skip piano! It’s not fair!
me: You skipped last week, remember?
her: I don’t like piano. It’s not fair that you make me take piano lessons (and on and on and on while she gets her shoes on).
In the car
her: Why do you make me take piano lessons? You must hate me. You Hate me! And I hate piano lessons and I hate you. I can’t wait until I’m 16 and then I’ll NEVER have to take piano lessons ever again.
me (turning up the radio) I am not listening to you.
her (louder): Because you Want to Make my Life Miserable. You Hate me and you want me to suffer. You want me to live a painful life.
me: Here I am putting up my soundproof invisible barrier so that I cannot here you. I’m singing along to the radio as loud as I want because now I’m the only person in the car and I can sing as loud as I want. La La LAAAAAAAA!
her (shouting): I CAN STILL HEAR YOU! YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY PERSON IN THE CAR! I’m not going in. I’m not getting out of the car. You can’t make me!
pulling up to piano lessons
me: I’m putting down my invisible sound proof shield, now. Here we are. Hop out.
her: I’m not going.
me: Yes, you are.
her (getting out of the car): I hate piano lessons and I hate you.
me (rolling down the window): You’d better apologize. You cannot speak to me that way young lady. Apologize or I’ll leave you here. You can live here and have piano lessons every day.
her (quietly): I’m sorry. But I still hate you.
me: Not going to fly. Apologize again right now or you’ll be staying here.
her: I’ll just run home.
me: Fine with me. See you later.
her: I’m sorry.
me (driving off): -sigh-
Does this sound familiar to you? This is really how our conversation went today. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the fighting and the whining and the complaining. It would be so much easier to give up and let her quit. But I will not. I will stick to my guns and persevere and she will take piano lessons for 3.3 more years, even if it kills me. And it might.
I wasn’t going to post this, but when I told a friend this story, she laughed and laughed and insisted it was SO FUNNY! And looking back (this happened a couple of weeks ago), I guess it was kind of funny, if you remove yourself from the situation. But sometimes it’s just not possible to remove myself far enough.
When I checked my email this morning, I got this message from my husband:
“A certain child” (only he didn’t say that, he said her name) is not allowed to play Wii or XBox or play on your computer tomorrow.
If she is mean to her sisters, that expands to being TV as well, through
Saturday (which means no XBox during Jenna’s baptism party… — Mean
and this one:
Oh, I forgot. She’s also doing her sister’s jobs tomorrow. Trash and Hall
Any suggestions would be appreciated.