During a tutoring session with a 2nd grader…
Me (after we read a story about a man who wasted his wishes on material things, and ended up with nothing): “And so if you had one wish, what would it be?”
Kid (thinks long and hard; seems indecisive): “I guess….a red sno-cone. That’s my favorite.”
Me (disappointed): “Really? You looked like you were deciding between that and something else. Something a little more meaningful, maybe….?”
Kid: “Well, I was going to say I’d wish for the world to be a better place.”
Me: “YES!!!! YES YES YES. I love that. Now THAT is a beautiful, powerful, meaningful wish. Why didn’t you choose that one?!”
Kid: “Because you can’t wish for that.”
Kid: “You have to DO that. You can’t just wish for it, you have to DO it.”
I’ve been doing a lot of solitary activities to manage my quarantine anxiety and I guess it’s become an issue because I just received this email from Eric:
Me: “So I’ve noticed since we switched to virtual tutoring, you’ve been takin EXTREMELY long bathroom breaks…”
Kid: “Sorry but I have to go!”
Me: “Ok, well, you used to go to the bathroom when I saw you in person, and you never took this long.”
Kid: “Yeah but that was before coronavirus. Now I have to wash my hands!”
(Part of, and likely the conclusion to, the Ebola Mom series)
Guys. THE JOKE WAS ON US THE WHOLE TIME.
We’re quarantining here at my parents’ house, having decided it was best to escape the dangers and claustrophobia of Corona-ridden NYC. We’ve finally gotten Nora to the point where she can toddle around here and not kill herself on the huge iron-rimmed coffee table, multiple stairs, and stacked shelves of glass.
Then my mom gave her a huge box of miscellaneous toys to play with. Nora was super excited when she dug through the legos and found these:
“Mama I eat it? Yes?”
Me: “Tomorrow is Daylight Savings and it’s going to be 67 degrees on Monday!!!”
My Seasonal Affective Disorder:
When I take Nora to the kiddie gym, she insists on using the water fountain and is somewhat obsessed with it. Early on I had to implement a rule that she can have one sip before class and one sip after class (#thisismylifenow ). She’s been shockingly very compliant until today, when suddenly she whined, flailed, and resisted all my attempts to remove her from the fountain…
Me: “Nora, no. We take ONE sip. You know the rule.”
Random Nanny (sitting by fountain, without looking up from her newspaper): “I think maybe she is confused about the rule.”
Me: “It’s been the rule for months, I’ve been very consistent. I don’t know why she’d suddenly be confused.”
Random Nanny: “Because yesterday she was at the fountain for a VERY long time, until her whole outfit was soaked with water.”
Me: “Wait, what?”
Random Nanny: “SOAKED I tell you. Water EVERYwhere.”
Me: “No no, you’re mistaken– I wasn’t even here yesterday!”
Random Nanny: “Yes but Nora was. With your husband.”
(Full circle continuation of Ebola Mom, Part 1)
Wonder how she’s doing….
“I see Momma! Momma doing poopies!”
— Nora, excitedly, to her teacher, while pointing at me sitting on a stool in the corner of the classroom, scrolling through my phone.
Therapist: “How’s Nora doing?”
Me: “She’s good! She’s a very busy lady, running around everywhere, excited about everything. But also very headstrong. Like today at the kid gym she just lost it. She ended up accidentally kicking a little girl in the face because she was throwing so much of a fit, just totally losing her shit, screaming and crying.”
Therapist: “Is she ok?”
Me: “Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. She was over it in 10 seconds. She was just upset that she had to wait her turn to go on the swing. She really doesn’t get that concept of turn taking, and she just gets herself really worked up. But she’s totally fine, it’s all normal toddler stuff. Thank you for asking, though.”
Therapist: “I meant the kid she kicked in the face.”
Therapist: “The little girl Nora kicked in the face– is she ok?”
I don’t know….