This week my dear daughter was tired. So very tired. School just started, and it’s hard enough to get back on schedule for most people after a summer of staying up late and sleeping in, but Maddie went to the extreme. She was staying up until one, two or even three o’clock in the morning, and sleeping in often past noon. This is a kid who functions best on a pretty regimented sleep schedule, but I’m so tired of managing that, I needed a summer break too. And now we are paying for it, especially with the new 6:00 a.m. rise time to be ready for a 7:00 pickup.
So when I woke her up Tuesday morning and she wouldn’t get out of bed, I wasn’t surprised. But I was kind of surprised, and disappointed, when I reminded her about Thursday’s big event and she remained unmoved. Today is Thursday, and it’s the day the students from her previous school are singing the National Anthem at the Giants’ game. She was going to participate. Missing school for any reason other than illness or the death of an immediate family member is considered unexcused, and the rules are clear on that. A student has about three per semester before the hammer comes down. The consequences can be significant: either a lower grade or a loss of credit, requiring summer school to make it up. That is a very big deal. So given that 5 days into the school year, Maddie had already used up one unexcused absence, I just couldn’t in good conscience allow her to take another one in the same week.
Consistent with Maddie’s behavior in the 15 years leading up to the moment, the now didn’t really connect with later. Not going to sing at the Giants game Thursday? Eh. Who cares? Not going to the Giants game today? Hey wait a minute! I didn’t think you MEANT that! Now I don’t like it! Such is the nature of consequences. They happen. Eventually. That is the big disconnect within her thinking. And that makes motivating her so darned difficult, even impossible (despite all my grit!).
Ever the optimist, though, Maddie believed that if only the powers that be at her school knew about this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, they would understand and send her off with happy waves and well wishes. They just needed the information. I assured her that this occasion would not fall within the parameters of an excused absence, but she persisted. So last night I capitulated a little, “Okay. If you can get a teacher or other adult to call me in the morning, and tell me your absence will be excused, I will pick you up. But you have to go to school and talk to somebody.” At the time of this conversation last night, it was too late, fortunately, to reach anybody, and she leaves home in the morning before anybody’s at school, so there was no other way to have that conversation. Of course, I was certain she would be disappointed.
This morning she had trouble getting up, but she wasn’t resistant and she was hopeful and bright-eyed about the good news that would surely await her when she arrived at school and was greeted by her teacher. When would I be picking her up? she wondered. We’ll work that out, I answered.
So it is now 8:15. She arrived at school maybe 20 minutes ago, ready to make her case, ready to pack it up shortly thereafter and catch the ferry to the ballpark for a big day of fun. But there has been no phone call. I picture a dejected young lady with a long day ahead of her, feeling the disappointment in her body and her soul. It breaks my heart, but I know this was necessary. Clearly this was a lesson she needed to learn–that there are rules to follow and consequences when you break them–but I so wish that lesson could have come another day. A group of us, including her cousin/best friend, is still going. We’ll take the ferry, see Maddie’s former schoolmates sing, and root for our home team. It’s a beautiful sunny day, but it will be clouded with sadness that Maddie isn’t there.
To me these are the hardest moments of parenting any child: when you have to break their heart (and maybe your own) for a vital lesson to be taught. I’ve had a hard time following through at times. My strength as a parent has lain more in my flexibility, my ability to read my children and change course as needed. In many ways I think that’s been vital to the happiness of our unique family and to the close, trusting relationships I have developed with my children. But it has probably come at a cost, too.. And now I’m “cracking down,” as I like to say. I have the new school to thank for that.
So today I’m feeling so many things: Exhausted, for one. But also sad for Maddie that she’s missing out on such a special event; proud of myself for following through even though I didn’t really want to; grateful that Maddie’s at a school that holds her accountable; hopeful that perhaps the consequences are so big that the lesson will stick this time; and anticipating a fun day with my family despite this disappointing turn of events.
My husband just put the right spin on this: Even though it’s a sad day, I should actually feel good about the opportunity to impress upon her the reality of delayed consequences, a concept that has long eluded her. So I will tell myself that over and over today. I will focus on hope for the future while making the most of today.
Go Giants.
The Year of Living Hopefully 