Because this mama ain’t got no patience for it.
I would like to take this opportunity to openly and humbly thank God for giving me a daughter who was born devoid of the drama girl gene. Thanks, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll tell you what, that God knows what he’s doing. If I had been given a drama queen kid, there’s a pretty good chance that I would have wound up in jail or in the nuthouse (or both!) by now. My patience level is great when it comes to waiting in line or waiting for food in a restaurant. When it comes to whiny, drama queen meltdowns, that same patience level takes a nosedive into negative territory. Completely non existent.
Caroline has her moments, I must say. But for the most part, she’s easy going and not prone to temper tantrums. In fact, she hasn’t had a classic kid meltdown in YEARS. Occasionally she tries the puppy dog, pouty lipped look, but I just tell her “nice try.” Stuff like that DOES NOT work with me.
Caroline is pragmatic, like me, and easy to reason with.
Sure, she gets cranky when she’s hungry or tired. But, who doesn’t?
It’s safe to say that I’m far crankier than she’ll ever be, but I’m still no drama queen. We’re two level headed chicks.
In direct contrast to Caroline’s easy demeanor is Rachel, Caroline’s friend. Rachel is a sweet girl and a good friend to Caroline. However, Rachel’s whiny, drama girl quotient registers above and beyond anything we’re accustomed to. From the moment this girl entered our house after school, she did nothing but whine and complain. She complained because Caroline was doing her homework. She complained because the other girls said “uh, gymnastics” in a tone that hurt her feelings. Nothing was fair. Everyone was against her. She cried no less than four times over little incidents.
Being the kind and patient person I am, I ignored it.
I walked past them at one point and heard Caroline say “mom, Rachel is crying because Sarah accidentally rolled on her.” And what did I say? Well, I said, ” I can hear her crying and ….” I stopped there. I wanted to say I didn’t care. I didn’t. I muttered it under my breath, but I refrained from being mean spirited. However, a few minutes later I did ask Rachel if someone sprinkled cranky flakes in her lunch because she sure was having a hard time being cheerful. She didn’t respond to my inquisition, but that’s not out of the ordinary.
After all that, I grabbed my laptop and some iced coffee and hid upstairs.
I just don’t have the patience and I certainly don’t have the desire to put up with dramatic behavior like that.
I didn’t have a second child for a reason, well for many reasons, actually, but that’s not the point. The truth is, I don’t do meltdowns. I just don’t do them. Been there, done that, never going back…until the teenage years! Caroline, as mellow as she is now, had some legendary meltdowns as a two and three year old. Her meltdowns did not bring out the best in either of us. Especially me.
I do not look back on those times very fondly and do not wish to repeat them at all.
Her meltdowns weren’t necessarily drama queen-esque; instead, her fits were more often a sheer battle of wills. Like me, she’s not dramatic, but she sure did posses some of my stubbornness. Thankfully, she’s not so stubborn anymore; there’s not enough room in this house for two bull headed women!
I’m eternally grateful that she’s easy to deal with. Caroline isn’t defiant or disobedient; if she’s doing something wrong, you just have to look at her crossly and she’ll straighten up.
I’m sure this won’t always be the case, but for now, I’m counting my blessings.