Sigh.
It takes all I have not to interject and demand that she assert herself, but I have traveled that familiar road many a time and each time it leads the same sweet child and the same jackass to the same dead end. Following my enraged outburst of, "DO NOT LET HIM TREAT YOU LIKE THAT!" she doesn't even hesitate...
"It doesn't really matter to me."
If there is one thing I can not bear (Riiiiiggggghhhhht....like there is JUST one thing, but play along with me here to keep the momentum going), it is a martyr. I am like a bloodhound when it comes to Woe Is Me-ers and I can sniff one out within two city blocks...or two chairs at a committee meeting...or two seats at my in laws dinner table. So the first time my sweet three year old gave me the ol' 1,2 "It Doesn't Really Matter To Me" upon changing seats with her brother at a restaurant, I was ready to put out that fire before it began burning. I launched, with water barrels blazing, into my late mother's famous "Die Or Get Off The Cross, Jesus Because No One Can Stand A Martyr" lecture, SURELY something a toddler can not only understand, but can fully appreciate. I kept at this approach for the past three years, hell bent and determined to not raise a daughter who would be walked over. Who would say "yes" when she was really thinking "HELL, NO." Who would be up past midnight sorting and distributing candles from a fundraiser at a school her kids don't even go to.
If there is one thing I can not bear (Riiiiiggggghhhhht....like there is JUST one thing, but play along with me here to keep the momentum going), it is a martyr. I am like a bloodhound when it comes to Woe Is Me-ers and I can sniff one out within two city blocks...or two chairs at a committee meeting...or two seats at my in laws dinner table. So the first time my sweet three year old gave me the ol' 1,2 "It Doesn't Really Matter To Me" upon changing seats with her brother at a restaurant, I was ready to put out that fire before it began burning. I launched, with water barrels blazing, into my late mother's famous "Die Or Get Off The Cross, Jesus Because No One Can Stand A Martyr" lecture, SURELY something a toddler can not only understand, but can fully appreciate. I kept at this approach for the past three years, hell bent and determined to not raise a daughter who would be walked over. Who would say "yes" when she was really thinking "HELL, NO." Who would be up past midnight sorting and distributing candles from a fundraiser at a school her kids don't even go to.
It never occurred to me that maybe it REALLY doesn't matter to her (If you haven't already, I am sure you can now make the connection between who is the jackass and who is the sweet girl.)
It seems to me that sibling relationships are the boot camp of training before one enters the real world of complex relationships. Kind of a YELL IN YOUR FACE endurance exercise meant to toughen you up before complex combat. If this theory of mine is true, then I am pretty sure we've got one well trained defense attorney (or used car salesman) to offer the world and one member of the UN all ready to go.
And it really doesn't matter to her if she is seated at the table next to Switzerland or Zimbabwe.
It seems to me that sibling relationships are the boot camp of training before one enters the real world of complex relationships. Kind of a YELL IN YOUR FACE endurance exercise meant to toughen you up before complex combat. If this theory of mine is true, then I am pretty sure we've got one well trained defense attorney (or used car salesman) to offer the world and one member of the UN all ready to go.
And it really doesn't matter to her if she is seated at the table next to Switzerland or Zimbabwe.
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