1 Mother 2 Another

Dear Maddie:


Life’s gotten a bit more demanding on you this year; now that
you’re in third grade, you’re responsible for a lot
more of your daily world, like making sure your ballet shoes are in
your dance bag twice a week, or being more independent with your
allowance.


Or being in charge of packing your school bag every day.


Yesterday you started to pack your back pack for the day: daily
folder, snack, water bottle, lunch bag, and a good book to read in
independent study time. As you went to load your bag, you
discovered the book you’d left in there over the weekend.
“Oh, this is where I left it! It’s such a good
book!” you said, and promptly opened it and read a chapter.


After a moment I looked up and saw you, still engrossed in your
novel. “C’mon, honey, finish up because we need to
go,” I pushed, and you put the book in, zipped up your bag,
and walked out the door.


And left your snack, water bottle, and lunch on the counter.

I didn’t realize it right away:
first I thought you’d only left your water bottle, and when
that was discovered you triumphantly improvised, saying you’d
use your lunch water all day and fill it up as needed. Proud of
yourself for coping with the problem, you headed inside and I
walked home.


And found your water bottle keeping company with the snack and
lunch on the counter.


I’ll admit it here: I badly wanted to bring your things to
you at school. I truly, truly did. You’d barely touched your
breakfast and I knew you’d be starving by morning snack time.
I also knew it’d take me five minutes to run everything to
the school for you.


But I didn’t.


We talked at the beginning of the school year, and agreed that if
you or Cora forget to pack something, I wouldn’t bring it to
you at school. The three of us had a clear discussion on that, and
as I stared at your mound of forgotten supplies I wished
desperately I hadn’t made such a big stink about that whole
“you forget it, you suffer the consequences” thing.


But I had, and I couldn’t go back on it. So I sent a quick
email to your teacher, asking her to calmly inform you that there
was money in your lunch account and you could buy your lunch that
day. And then I tried not to think about it.


Baby, I love you very much and want to fix all your problems. But
if I do, I’m creating bigger problems down the road. And
that’s not helping you at all. And truthfully, it’s
best if you learn this now, when what you’ve forgotten is a
granola bar and a sandwich, and not six years from now, when
it’s a term paper.


But you know the best part about this whole thing? When you came
home, you weren’t mad at all. “Baby, I’m so sorry
you forgot all your things today,” I said sympathetically
while hugging you tight.


“It’s ok, I coped,” you said, and smiled.


You coped! You learned to cope, and that the world didn’t end
when you did!


And THEN – at bedtime, as we snuggled, I asked, “What
do you want in your lunch tomorrow?”


You looked at me, startled, and said, “I’ll just take
what I forgot to bring today. I don’t want to waste
food!”


That? Is BIG GIRL talk.


SO proud of you and how you handled it yesterday.


Love,


Mommy

p.s. I made you a fresh sandwich for today – I’ll eat
yesterday’s for my lunch instead.