My poor little perfectionist
Fiona hasn't been to school since last Wednesday because of the stupid snow. Finally, finally today the streets were melted enough that it was safe to open school again. They did a "late start" day which I was pretty sure meant she had to be at school two hours after her normal start time, just like every other school district in the area. Did I check their website to be sure? Of course not!
We got to school exactly two hours after the normal start time and there were no kids in sight. Oops. "Late start" for our district is actually an hour and a half late, not two hours. For the first time in her very short elementary school career, Fiona had to go to the office to get a late slip. She was totally mortified. Then I walked her to her classroom and as we tried to walk in, the whole class was leaving for lunch. She started to cry. She crawled behind the coats on the coat rack and starting screaming that she wasn't going to school today and she didn't want to be late and it was my fault and I was mean.
I told her that I'd walk her to the lunch room and help her get her lunch, but she couldn't pull it together and basically cried for the next half hour - through the lunch line, into the lunch room, trying to get her to sit down. Amelia took up the cause and started screaming too, mostly because she really wanted to eat Fiona's french fries I think. Either I'm not very good at talking Fiona down or she's just not talk-downable, because it finally came to me hissing threats of losing her Leapster privilege for her to finally get it back together enough to sit down and eat. I wish giving her a hug and a kiss and a pat on the back would work when she's like that but it doesn't.
Poor thing, she hates it when things like this happen. It is kind of reassuring to me though, that the worst possible thing in her world right now is getting a tardy slip at school. That's all she has to worry about. (Well, that and President Bush.)
We got to school exactly two hours after the normal start time and there were no kids in sight. Oops. "Late start" for our district is actually an hour and a half late, not two hours. For the first time in her very short elementary school career, Fiona had to go to the office to get a late slip. She was totally mortified. Then I walked her to her classroom and as we tried to walk in, the whole class was leaving for lunch. She started to cry. She crawled behind the coats on the coat rack and starting screaming that she wasn't going to school today and she didn't want to be late and it was my fault and I was mean.
I told her that I'd walk her to the lunch room and help her get her lunch, but she couldn't pull it together and basically cried for the next half hour - through the lunch line, into the lunch room, trying to get her to sit down. Amelia took up the cause and started screaming too, mostly because she really wanted to eat Fiona's french fries I think. Either I'm not very good at talking Fiona down or she's just not talk-downable, because it finally came to me hissing threats of losing her Leapster privilege for her to finally get it back together enough to sit down and eat. I wish giving her a hug and a kiss and a pat on the back would work when she's like that but it doesn't.
Poor thing, she hates it when things like this happen. It is kind of reassuring to me though, that the worst possible thing in her world right now is getting a tardy slip at school. That's all she has to worry about. (Well, that and President Bush.)
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