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She's From Venus

I think my daughter, Amanda is from outer space. I mean, I know "they" say, "women are from Venus," but it's got to be because there's some logic in it, right? Surely there are people where she comes from that speak her language, but I'm sad to report that I'm not one of them. I've tried...God knows I've tried, but it makes me physically weak sometimes trying to decipher what it is that she's talking about. Just trying to get her to answer a simple "yes" or "no" question can sometimes take hours! (OK, I exaggerate a little bit...) Getting a response to things that shouldn't even be difficult like, "do you want milk?" can cause me to hyperventilate.

Now, I realize that if I don't end my sentence with, "pick one: yes or no," I'm asking for trouble and it's clearly my own fault. I know I should know better, that's a rookie mistake. If I simply ask if she wants milk, I might get a story about how during lunch one time one of her friends ate all of her (DD's) cheese curls and tried to get her sandwich too, but she needed to tell a teacher so that she could get her to stop and then she got in trouble herself when she hollered for the teacher to come over, and didn't get to drink her milk at lunch. (I know! Wow, that's a long way to go to talk about milk!)

Meanwhile, back in reality, my arm that's been patiently holding the gallon jug of milk carefully over her glass and waiting for her response begins to tremble until finally, I either put it away or decide to go ahead and pour it (without being invited to do so), which inevitably ends in wails for orange juice because what she is trying to tell me in the first place is that she no longer enjoys milk, but I'm not listening. (Do you see what I have to go through?)

And it's not like she's too young to be able to articulate a proper response, either. She's going into third grade! She's just from Venus, and I only speak conversational, touristy Venusuvian.

Case in point: Last night, she came up to me - apparently after pilfering through my jewelry box - holding a pair of dangly silver earrings. "Mom, can I please have these?"

(Not even can I wear these, or can I borrow these, or even I love these, but straight to "can I have these")

ME: No. They're mine, they're dangly, (she's not allowed to wear danglies) and they're not real (they'll make your ears hurt they're not real gold).

HER: Well, you see, I have a lot of gold earrings, and I like gold, but only because it goes with orange. And yellow. And sometimes some brown and maybe red...but. I have always wanted silver earrings because I love silver and silver goes with everything, and I always wanted hoops anyway, but not dangly earrings, but I love these ones, though and I thought that since you never wear them I could have them, and because they make me feel cleanse.

ME: Hmm? Cleanse? Did you just say they make you feel cleanse? (she nodded in agreement). Amanda, honey, do you even know what cleanse means? (It's not even in the right tense for this sentence! Where are you pulling this from!)

HER: No, but I like the way it sounds. And I feel it.

ME: Well, OK then! (Who can argue with that logic?) But no, you still can't wear dangly earrings.

Comments

Anonymous said…
LOL!

Wow, how I remember those days with my daughter at the age of 5 through 10. I promise it will get better.

By the time DD is ten, you'll have mastered the Venusuvian language and no longer feel like a tourist visiting her world. At age 11, DD will have moved you into her world - until probably the age of 15... at which time she may return the both of you back to your world!

Good Luck!!!!LOL

Khree
Khree - I appreciate your experience here. DD can be scary at this point. I'm glad to learn it gets better - albeit briefly.
iona said…
You're kidding... lol

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