Friday, February 09, 2007

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Friday, 9:23 am: Begin work
Friday, 9:23:45 am: Cannot work, ears are ringing—like I just came back from a Poison concert at MSG. (Yes, I have been to a Poison concert—age 10—and those high-pitched guitars stay with you long after Brett Michaels—Michaels? Michael?— has left the building.)

Here's what I hear: PinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookies
PinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookiesPinkyDinkyDoocookies

(So first of all, there are no Pinky Dinky Doo cookies. I don't know where she came up with that? I think she's asking for these chocolate animal cracker things from Whole Foods.)

Now imagine it in a crescendo, with each third or so tone thinning to a chalkboard screech—the kind that hurts your eyeballs.

It takes every ounce of composure, yoga breathing, Buddhist tenet, every other spiritual path I've ever studied and fear of my child being on the couch at 7 to stop me from either walking away or screeching back.

In one second, every way potential proactive way of handling zooms through my head like Indie cars on a Southern Sunday—zooooom, zoooom, zoooom. Wait, I, I, I....I can't make out how to handle this—dang thought, you just passed me at 145 mph. Okay, so what to do? Breathe. Just breathe.

Thinking is just simply out the window. Instinct—learned and unlearned—kicks in.

Here's what I hear in my head: Don't react, proact. Listen. Just listen to you child, beyond what she is saying. Comfort her, guide her. Reassure her. Be strong. Lead by example.

Okay, done and done.

Here's what I hear: Yummy, eggies.

Mega meltdown averted.

Time goes tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tocking by as my once and former angel eats her egg whites and raisin bread toast. And all is right with the world again.

Here's what I hear in my head: You rule! You are awesome! Great job, mommy!

Tick-tock-tick-tock.

Hear's what I hear: Specialcookiespecialcookiespecialcookiespecialcookie.

Here's what I say: Time for a nap, Scarlett.

Here's what I get to hear for another half an hour or so:

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