Missy Diggs

This morning started out as many mornings do, with me feeling really groggy and already unable to keep up with the demands of one very Vivid Girl. I groaned my way out of bed, swallowed all the pills that go with the morning part of my lifestyle, brushed my teeth (wait! did I brush my teeth? um, well, I usually do brush my teeth…..), poured myself some coffee (many many thanks to Mr. B for getting up before me and making the coffee) and I put some breakfast in a bowl for the Vivid Girl, who was already barricaded on the couch with her craft supplies and her Netflix cartoons. But the Vivid Girl did not want the bowl of breakfast, even though I had carefully selected the items in the bowl to be pleasing to her. In this case, frosted organic tiny wheat cereal squares and dried apricots.
She loves these things, usually. Okay, well, actually, I can’t figure out what she loves usually, but I have seen her eat these very things before, on more than one occasion, and when I brought them home from the store she was excited, and so I foolishly thought that meant that when she was hungry she would eat them.
Because I never learn.
So, because I am the kind of parent who strives for joy more than for consistency or authority or even keeping the food budget down, I suggested that we could leave a bit early for camp today and drive through the fast food place where the Vivid Girl likes to order a breakfast that comes with a toy and that she can eat in the car. This is not something I am willing to do everyday, mind you, but somewhere along the way we came to a compromise in which we, the Worn-Out Parents of the Vivid Girl, agreed that we would do this once a week or so.
This made the Vivid Girl happy and so we quickly scrambled around pulling clothes and shoes on and off until we were both wearing what it seemed like we should wear, and we gathered up our things (my things: purse, keys, cell phone, kindle, wallet. her things: script, dancing shoes, socks, activity with many tiny pieces to do in the car), and we left the house. And we left another thing, too: we left the snack that the Vivid Girl needs for camp and that Mr. B had kindly packed while I was still pretending to be asleep this morning. We left that valuable item sitting on the kitchen counter. And we didn’t realize it until we actually got to camp, about half an hour later.
And by that time we were no longer early for camp, but right on time, which meant that there was no time to go back and get the snack. And the reason we went from being very early to having no extra time is this:
First we went to the fast food drive through that the Vivid Girl likes and she told me what to order. And what she likes to order now is actually a regular menu item, so I have to remember to also order the kids’ toy, for which they probably charge me extra even though they are already charging me full price for low quality food instead of the lower kids’ price for equally low quality food. And then the toy came and it was one that the Vivid Girl already has, from the last time she got fast food breakfast on the way to camp.
And maybe that is why when she unwrapped her food she decided she didn’t like it. She didn’t have to taste it to make this decision. She just looked at it. And she said it looked different. And she wrapped it up and set it aside and began to pout.
So I said, cheerfully and kindly,  “Well, did you taste it? maybe it looks funny but tastes okay?” Because now I was in the position of trying to encourage my child to eat food that I don’t want her to eat. Because that’s my parenting style.
So she tasted it, grudgingly, and then said it tasted pretty okay so she took two teeny tiny miniature bites of her full-sized low-quality fast-food breakfast sandwich, and then she said, petulantly, “But the meat looks kinda gray in the middle.”

She got me on that one. Even I am not going to try to convince my child to eat low-quality fast-food meat that I don’t even want her to eat in the first place if it’s GRAY. I mean, what even is it? Is it monkey or something? Why is it GRAY?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!

So I took a deep breath and drove in the direction of the Vivid Girl’s camp-of-the-week, and I asked, ever so sweetly, “Well, my darling daughter, what would you like to do about this situation?”

And the Vivid Girl threw back her head and wailed, “I DON’T KNOW!!!!”

So I said I would go to another, slightly higher-quality, fast-food drive-through on the way to camp so she could have something to eat before camp. Because you do need breakfast before camp, you know. Especially if you’re the Vivid Girl, and it’s your first ever acting camp, and you have been cast in the lead of the mini-musical, which is Annie, and which you have to be ready to perform in ONLY THREE MORE DAYS. So we went to the slightly higher-quality fast-food drive-through, which I had thought served breakfast, but it didn’t serve breakfast anymore. If ever. So finally I took the girl to a cafe where she was able to order real food. She chose a giant yogurt granola parfait with berries, of which she ate approximately three bites and then declared herself full.

By which time we were at camp, which is when we noticed that we had forgotten the snack, and she started to cry because now she was stuck either being late for camp or having no snack and what kind of terrible choice is that? So I took another deep breath, yoga-style, and pasted a smile on my tired twitchy face and said, “No, darling girl, light of my life, you go to camp on time and I will go to the nearest store and get you a snack and bring it back to camp so you will both be on time and have a snack.”

Which is what I did.

And so by 9:15 this morning, I had been to four different food sellers and had spent approximately $30 on 3 bites of food for a six-year-old. And I was exhausted. So I came home and did a few low-key things here until suddenly I noticed that it was 12:17 and I was running late for picking the Vivid Girl up from camp. Usually she wants me to have a snack all ready for her in the car when I pick her up, and today that would have been easy to do except that of course I ran out the door and left the snack that Mr. B packed sitting on the kitchen counter again.

And when I got to camp I was two minutes late, and there were three girls left, and one of them of course was the Vivid Girl. And she was crying. Because I was late. And in fact her teacher said she had just started crying, which makes sense because I had just started being late two minutes before. So I sat with the Vivid Girl and kissed her and comforted her and apologized for being late and assured her that I knew how much it upset her to be picked up late and reassured her that I will always come get her so there’s nothing to worry about. Then I dried her tears, and patted her hair, and gathered up all her stuff, including her street shoes, and her dance shoes, and her socks, and her script, and the bag that had contained the snack and which now contained a handful of soggy popcorn, an empty beef jerky package, and a half-full bottle of Vitamin Water with the cap off. The Vitamin Water spilled quickly filled the bag and the Vivid Girl sniffled and told me that when she had opened the jerky almost all the jerky had spilled out of the bag and so she hadn’t really had a very good snack at all.

And we walked out to the car and stowed all the stuff and  got buckled in. When I asked if she was ready to go, the Vivid Girl cheerfully said that she was. But as soon as I started driving, she started to sniffle and pout again. Once again I propped the corners of my mouth up into a sympathetic smile, turned my head, and said, “Oh, dearheart, lovely girl, whatever is the matter?”

And the Vivid Girl screwed up her eyes, opened her mouth wide, and howled, “I’m hungry!”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 21st, 2010 at 1:35 pm and is filed under Day to Day, Tasty Goodness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.