One day at a time

Day 53: Thursdays are hard

I think I’ve figured something out.

Thursday is D-Day.

It’s been every Thursday that Miss Hannah loses her mind, asserts her stubborn and fierce independence and defies everything she is asked or told to do.

She’s made it through three long days of scheduled time and siblings distracted by schoolwork and other big-kid endeavours like cooking or baking (which she enjoys helping with, until the batter is made, beaters are licked, and things get a heck of a lot less interesting – but don’t forget to call her when it’s time to taste-test).

Today I saw it coming – sort of. It hadn’t occurred to me it was Thursday, exactly, but I was certainly aware of the fact Jordan had been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6 a.m. and had yelled from her crib at the bunk-beds across the room until Hannah was awake, too. She’s very good at that.

I’m reminded of a line from Frozen: “The sky’s awake, so I’m awake, so we have to play!”

This is Jordan and Hannah to a tee.

It’s happened a lot lately, and it’s typically okay – Jordan goes off to her dayhome and we know she has good, solid naptime in the afternoon to recover. Hannah hasn’t napped in years, but an early bedtime does the trick.

Except on Thursdays.

She started off on the right foot this morning, watching some of her favourite educational videos while Mom dropped off the baby, stopped for a bit of groceries and took some phone calls for work.

When Christian went outside to shoot hoops she followed him, tablet in-hand “for music outside,” which quickly became half an hour of watching kid-friendly YouTube videos outside. At least she was in the fresh air?

The problem was when they came back inside. I asked her to get her worksheets – silence. Told her to get her schoolwork. More silence. The girl was glued to her screen, and that always spells trouble. I had to venture out to take a photo for work, and left with the instruction that Hannah was to get started on her worksheet while I stepped out for 10 minutes or so.

When I got back, she hadn't moved a muscle - I don't know if she'd even blinked.

I had to take it away. I told her she could have it back tomorrow, but not listening to Mom because she’s too busy with her videos is never okay.

Cue the meltdown.

In true Thursday fashion, she hung her head and had a good, long cry at the island counter, sitting next to me while I did my level best to concentrate on work and let her get out her frustration, disappointment and – frankly – anger. There were hugs, more crying, more hugs.

When the tears began to subside, I asked her again to get her schoolwork. Grudgingly, without raising her gaze from the floor, she trudged across the playroom to her table and retrieved her Numbers book.

By the time she brought it back to me, she was all smiles, ready with her favourite pencil to take on the Number 6. It’s a hard number to make, so we worked on it together a few times before she took over and expertly scrawled a dozen sixes across her page.

She coloured groups of six, counted to six and back, then looked around and started out things that come in sixes – like the six bananas we happened to have in our fruit bowl.

Everything else was forgotten.

A ride around the pond at lunchtime set her foot in the right direction for the afternoon, refreshed with spring air in her lungs, and she decided to spend her afternoon making something for me, which her teacher had sent in a message labelled Top Secret on the Bloomz app, with her brother’s help.

It tore him away from his robot-building, but he’s a good sport and (usually) willing to help his younger sister.

She bounded into the dining room later, armed with fuze art beads, and settled in next to him to get creative. He obviously found it annoying, and voiced his aggravation more than once, but he put up with it anyway because what Hannah needed today was an ounce of patience and a gallon of understanding.

Tomorrow’s another day, but at least it’s not another Thursday.

Krista Conrad, OkotoksToday.ca

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