Of Blueberries and Mashed Potatoes

Rachael has been getting really mad at me lately.  I don't know if it's because she's 5 1/2 or because she is feeling anxiety and the stress of what's going to happen or if I'm just more sensitive.  Everything seems to set her off though and it's ALL MY FAULT.

Tom's parents sent the kids a care package in which they included a little vial for each of them of a precious metal.  Rachael's had gold in it and Marc's had silver.  So she wants to take it to kindergarten to prove to some little girl who did not believe that she was a bonafide millionaire that she really is the owner of gold.   Here was our conversation before school.

"Mommy, what kind of gold is it?"

"It's just gold."

"But what KIIIND?!"

(Realizing she is looking for more and it's going to be ALL MY FAULT for not knowing, I sweetly respond) "It's just gold sweetheart.  Real gold."

She completely loses it.  "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND AND YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME!! I SAAAAIIIIIDDDD WHAT KIIIIIIIIIND OF GOLD IS IT?!?!"

Uh.  "I don't know what you want me to say.  It is REAL gold.  There aren't different kinds of gold.  It's just real."

"IT WAS ON THE PAPER!!  YOU KNOW IT AND YOU ARE JUST NOT TELLING ME!"

Light bulb goes off in my brain. "Do you mean GENUINE gold?"

"YEEEESSSSS!!!"

"Rachael, do you know what genuine means?"

"No."

"Real."

"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

I'm so glad she doesn't drive yet.  Can you imagine the road rage?  "I KNOW the light turned green but I WAS WAITING FOR A DIFFERENT SHADE OF GREEN YOU IDIOT NOW STOP HONKING YOUR HORN AT ME!!"

Ahhh.  Typing in all caps can feel really good sometimes.

So tonight she was mad because I found every stuffed animal she owns except for the tiny little puppy she got three years ago in a Happy Meal and left in the vortex of slovenly shame my van and I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND how much she needs it and so she's going ignore me and then she screams like an abandoned piglet (think loud and annoying) when I finally walk away.  So I go out and breathe deep and then go back in and sit next to her.  We had a lovely touching conversation that ended in giggles and will hopefully help.  Bottom line, when she (or I) needs a reminder to speak kindly we will use the code words "blueberries" or "mashed potatoes".  We like "blueberry words".  They make us happy and are tasty in our ears.  But "mashed potato words" are yucky and we never want to hear them again.  It will be a reminder and not a rebuke and hopefully will restore our friendship.  And will do nothing for getting her to eat her mashed potatoes.