On the way out the door, Kirstin realized that she had missed turning in an assignment. She wasn't done with it, but her teacher never asked for it, so she left it, undone, in her desk at school. The responsible thing, obviously, would have been to ask the teacher when the assignment was due to be turned in, and then completing it on time.
Forest tried to explain it to her, while I drove the car, and generally chimed in. She immediately got defensive and started snapping at him, interrupting loudly, being quite rude. After a bit of patience, he told her that she was being rude, and that she ought to listen to him, because he was trying to help her.
At the word "rude" she interrupted him, clapped her hands over her ears, and shouted "I don't want to listen to that word."
When it became obvious that she didn't want to listen to anything we said, I turned the van around (almost to the theater) and started driving us home. I had had enough of this crap.
I explained to her that under no circumstances would I allow this kind of behavior to continue, and that I can not take her to movies or any other public place when I can't trust her to behave politely and kindly to the people she loves the most, much less strangers. For maybe the second time in her whole life I used the full "mom" voice, and unfortunately the theatre training compliments that to make me utterly overwhelming. I explained that she was being mean and hurtful to me and to Forest when she refused to listen to us, and refused to allow us to help her, or to be like parents. I ended the diatribe by informing her that when she treats us badly it makes it hard for us to be close to her, to be her parents and her friends.
Then she was crying, and all of the sudden she was perfectly willing to listen to what we were saying. (At least, I perceived a transition. Forest isn't so sure on that one.) All the way back to the house we talked about it; that it's okay that she has feelings, and we understand anger and frustration, but that snapping at us is not an acceptable way to tell us her feelings.
Then we got to the last block of the trip home, and she realized where we were. "Are we going home?" She asked, sounding suprised, completely taken aback, and not the least bit spiteful or naughty. She sounded like the kid I used to know, except that she was still crying.
I explained that yes, we were, because we had decided to turn around when she was snapping at us and being uncontrollably rude. We couldn't take her to the movies while she was acting like that.
This produced the most genuine tears yet, and a "Can we *please* go," delivered in plaintive tones, when for the first time on the whole trip she was willing to look one of us in the eye.
I wanted apologies first, even though I know at her age she doesn't understand regret yet. I wanted her to be sorry she was being so hateful, and to earnestly repent for it. I wanted her to tell us she would start acting like she loved us, and stop treating us as though our sole purposes in life were to buy her things and drive her places that she wants to go. I wanted her to think of someone other than herself for a change.
I don't think I really got that, but at least I got an apology that was better than she has managed in the past, and that she loves us, and understands that it's important to act as a grownup sometimes even when she doesn't feel like one.
So we turned around in our driveway, and drove back to Lansing to see the movie a half hour later than planned.
Hardly a word was spoken on the way there, I had to drag conversation out of her, and Forest was looking very depressed, quietly staring out the window, with an occasional squeeze of my hand, and whisper of "I love you, hon".
When I asked him what was wrong, he said, "Later."
We got to the theatre, and while Kirstin ran ahead to the doors, I asked what was going on. He looked very sad, and rather choked up, and said, "I just don't think I'm cut out for this." His face reflected utter disappointment in what he was saying.
I tried to say that I thought he was doing fine, but he was pretty much inconsolable.
"All I was trying to do was help her get better at homework, and turning it in, so she'd do better in school, and look what happened," he continued. "It really killed me."
I forget sometimes that he's new to this. I remember trying to be a parent for the first few years, and having really high expectations of myself; I was going to be a perfect parent, way better than the ones before me. I was going to be a friend and confidant at the same time I was going to be a mom and a mentor. It was going to be great.
Of course, I discovered that no one in the world knows how to be a good parent, that every kid is different, and they change practically every day, so whatever worked last week probably doesn't work now.
Forest is just hitting the painful part of the discovery, I think. He wants to badly to be great at this, and to be really helpful to Kirstin; his expectations of himself are really really high. It hurts him very much when things don't work out as they should, when she's not receptive to what he's saying, or doesn't listen to him.
After we got the tickets and settled into our seats, I tried to comfort him a bit, explaining that this has been the hardest year ever to be Kirstin's parent, and things have been going really badly with her, and that he shouldn't be so hard on himself. I tried to point out that no one really knows what they're doing when they start out, and that the important part was that he cared enough to try.
He pointed out that the time when Kirstin started to get really badly behaved and have the worst year of her life was the same year he came into the picture, and tried to blame himself for all of her troubles. I'm sure adjusting to his presence has been part of the difficulty, but in no way can he be solely responsible for her current array of crap, and I told him so.
I didn't get into much detail, because the movie was starting, but I think that he has a very different style of working with Kirstin than Bill, Kathy, or I do. He's a little more intimate with her, in a way, tries to get right down there and make her reason things out for herself. I don't think he's doing anything wrong, but he's definitely doing something different, and that might be what makes her responses seem so strange to him.
He was pretty much inconsolable, but the movie started, and afterward he seemed to have lightened up a little bit.
On the way home, we realized that we were both emotionally exhausted, and felt a real need to just go home, stay there, and recharge our familial batteries.
Kirstin and Forest got along with good humor in the car, picking on each other, and laughing most of the way home. On our way into the house, Forest did a funny monkey impression, and scooped me up, then plopped me on the ground, and started pretending to groom me and so on. Kirstin laughed so hard that I thought she would surely pop.
After tucking her in, we felt that one of us really ought to go to D&D, and after much debate and snuggling it was decided that I would go. Ordinarily it's the other way around, we both really WANT to go game, and the unlucky person has to stay home... but last night (no hard feelings Yeffy) we were just both so wiped out that it turned into something one of us had to take the burden and do.
I was actually sort of glad I went, after a few minutes. Forest is still adjusting to Kirstin, and his emotional resources were likely far more pressed than mine by the evening's confrontations. He seemed to accept the idea of a hot bath with his Feist novel with reluctant anticipation, and while he didn't want me to go, I think he was definitely due some quiet time to regroup.
So I sang campfire songs all the way to Yeffy's to try to wake myself up, and went into D&D ready to play. Mostly. It was a long evening of one long combat, and by midnight I was falling asleep, but it was nice to see everyone anyway. When I got home, Forest was definitely feeling better, and as usual, I found him in the tub, soaking up hot water and a good book. As we snuggled each other to sleep, I at least had the feeling that he hadn't been mortally wounded, and that his struggle to fit into Kirstin's life peacefully would continue.
As we were drifting to sleep, Forest informed me that he was going to try to get his sister to come out and watch Kirstin after bedtime tonight so that I can go out with him and Bridget. I was really happy that he thought of it! He had remembered my feelings on the matter, and was actively doing something about them. I couldn't have been happier. What a sweety.
Today is a busy day at work, so I have to run. It's Workplan drafting time. Whheeeeeeee.
