Evyn has always been a thinking child. And a verbal one. And a dramatic one. She is going through some phase that resembles puberty – grumpy, wired, happy one minute, totally ticked the next, witty, logical, argumentative, loving…you know. Miss Rollercoaster of Emotions.
This week on the way home from Cubbies she seemed upset. Well, she didn't seem upset – she made sure she told me.
"I'm upset. I'm irritating [she meant "irritatED"). Irritating means upset. Everybody hurts my feelings and that makes me irritating."
I asked her what happened. A friend at school earlier that day told her she didn't want to be her best friend. And just a few minutes prior I had to get on her about being more obedient and following instructions. You know – hurt feelings and being disciplined wind up in the same basket of "irritation." In the simplest way possible I told her sometimes we can't control how others feel about us, and that when we disobey and have to be disciplined it might make us angry. But we have a choice about how to react to it all. And maybe she should ask God to help her through how she's feeling.
"Mommy, when you go to bed tonight, make sure you pray for me. And tell Daddy when he goes to bed he should pray for me, too. So that my feelings won't get hurt." I promised I would. And she repeated her request to Daddy as soon as we got home.
Cut to the next morning. She woke up somewhat grumpy and was mad about having to eat oatmeal. Then, on top of it all, I made her get dressed for preschool before I let her play. The horror.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrruuuhhhhh!" she growled as she stomped back to her bedroom. "I know you and Daddy didn't pray for me because I'm still upset!"
I just can't imagine this kid as a twelve year old.