I don't know how I'm going to handle these next 12 years of Rachel's life. The drama in these first few weeks of first grade is enough to last me the rest of my life. I don't want to go into too many details, but it seems like every day Rachel comes home with another story of something that happened at school that makes me want to pull my hair out in frustration. Either I'm completely aghast at something she's said or done, or in tears because she's hurt, which hurts me, or ready to email the teacher for more clarification about something she's told me. I'm not one of those "helicopter moms," and before this year I'd never contacted the teacher about something that happened at school or preschool, but this year has already been full of it! And this is only the beginning. My mom said it's like I have to whack another mole every day after school, just like playing that game at Chuck-e-Cheese, and that's exactly what I feel like!
In addition to school drama, there's been tooth drama. Rachel's two front teeth have been loose for months. I've written before about her aversion to the dentist, doctor, and any sort of touching when there's the tiniest bit of pain involved. Even brushing snarls out of her hair elicits tears and yelling. So when it came to these teeth, she wouldn't let us touch them. We've wanted to pull them out for months, but she wouldn't let us, and unless we held her down, which would result in tears and a huge fit, they weren't going to come out, so we just let it go. For the last week or two, one of them has been hanging by a thread. You could tell that the permanent tooth was pushing down on it because her teeth started to look crooked. She wiggled it every morning and evening, but wouldn't pull hard enough to get it out. All it would've taken was a little twist, and it would've come out, but she was too afraid to do it.
Yesterday she finally decided to do it.
There were tears (happy tears, she told us), but it's finally out. The other one is pretty loose, too, but I'm sure it will be a number of weeks before she works up the courage to get it out.
But wait, there's
more drama. Last night she woke me up around 11:30 because she said her sheet was wet because she had been crying in her bed. She woke up and had to go potty, but was afraid to get up because she didn't want to see the tooth fairy, because she's not supposed to see her (I never told her that, by the way--she came up with that all on her own--I say as little as possible about the tooth fairy...and Santa...I don't want to lie to her, but I also don't want to crush her imagination, so I just listen whenever she has something to say about either of them). Anyway, she laid there and cried because she was afraid to get up, so her sheet was all wet with tears. I assured her it was okay to go potty. So she did, and we went to go take care of the wet sheet--she covered her eyes all the way back to her room because she didn't want to see the tooth fairy if she was in the house (little did she know that the tooth fairy came around 10:00 pm and there was a dollar bill on her bedside table already).
I honestly did not create this drama queen. I don't give in to her drama, thus perpetuating it, I do everything I can to ignore it, and to my knowledge I do nothing to encourage it. I don't coddle her in the least. I guess this is just Rachel. And I somehow have to learn to deal with it for the next however many years. Oh my.