Monday, April 25, 2011

Mom, can I... Mom, can I... Mom, can I...

I'm going through a frustrating phase with my newly turned 8-year-old.  For her birthday, she received a $40 gift card for Build-A-Bear Workshop.  I was really looking forward to going with her!  When she got it on her birthday, almost two weeks ago, we told her we wouldn't get to redeem it until this week due to some travel plans.  I *thought* we were all on the same page.

Since that day, I've been asked approximately 2459213 times when we are going, can we go now, how much longer until we go, can we go sooner and every other variation you can imagine.  It's gotten so bad that I threatened to take away $1 in gift card value for each time she asked.

So today was the big day.  I, intentionally, committed my husband from this trip, knowing he'd be impatient and probably a smidge grumpy.  He's anti-stuffed animal.  Having once been a little girl, I'm only reluctant about stuffed animals. 

We joined some friends who were making bears for their new baby cousins.  My younger daughter brought some holiday money along.  The day was set to be wonderful.  We got her a cat, with an outfit and shoes.  I thought she was over the moon.  That was until 30 minutes later when we got into the car to go home and she asked, "When are we going back to Build-A-Bear?" 

I'm ashamed to admit that my child is living in a material world.  'Cause she's a material girl.  You know it, we are living in a material world and she's a material girl.  Lovely Madonna flashback, right?  But seriously, no matter what she gets, or what we do, she's always looking for the next thing.  Not necessary an upgrade.  Just the next thing, totally failing to enjoy the here and now. 

Then when we got home, it was like rapid fire requests.  She wasn't this needy as a baby, for crying out loud!  Can I, can I, can I?  And the second I begin on satisfying one request, 13 more fly my way.  Never did I get, "Thanks for taking me to Build-A-Bear, Mom." or "Thanks for planning a playdate with our friends, Mom."  There's zero appreciation, just anticipation for the next thing.

She wasn't this needy, even as a baby!  God help me during the summer.  I work from home part-time.  This year my hours were dramatically reduced and I'm down to 18 from about 33, a week.  My plan is to work for three hours in the morning and one in the late afternoon, leaving the middle of the day for the pool or beach or library or whatever.  I am under the silly impression that this will keep everyone happy and entertained.  Given how our ten days together during Spring Break have gone, I'm doubting it.  No matter how many things we did on any given day during vacation, we always missed her mark by just a hair because we didn't go to the pool while it was 64 degrees, or wouldn't let her go to the playground by herself.

Seriously, God help me maintain my patience.

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