More of the same

Last year I shared a Christmas joy with my kids (not really my decision, though). We took Hannah and Emily to see The Christmas Carol at The Playhouse in the Park for the first time. Ray got us awesome seats, and the kids absolutely loved it.

Tonight, we took them again, and it's all they could talk about for days. But, before we left, Hannah complained about her outfit saying she looked "hideous," and Emily cried for about 45 minutes while trying to write her book report that's due tomorrow--that she has put off for weeks--that I thought Ray was helping her with for weeks.

We finally get there, and it's going okay until Hannah wanted to use two arm rests instead of just one. She started crying and didn't stop for 10 minutes. Mind you, we are sitting dead center in the front row. I make her get up, and I ask the attendant at the door how much time was left before the show started: 5 minutes. We go to the bathroom for a lecture and a nose blow and try to return to our seats. I say "try" because they had closed the doors and wouldn't let us back in.

Hannah had a melt down right there because she knew this meant that she cannot sit in her seat- her front row seat. That's all she talked about since finding out we were going. I said, "The attendant at the door just told me I had 5 minutes. I have not been gone 5 minutes. We have already been seated, and we have front row seats."

"Sorry. We have dimmed the lights so you cannot go down the steps."

I can't believe I said this, but I said (yelled), "Are you kidding me?! This is totally pathetic! I wouldn't have left if the lady told me there wasn't enough time!" I wanted to cuss. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit the guy with the smirk on his face while my daughter was having a break down right there.

A couple of minutes later, he let us (those who were late) enter, but we had to sit at the very top. Hannah cried the entire time. Then she started sucking snot up her nose. Great fun.

I tried to explain to her that she should try to enjoy the play since there was nothing we could do about it. I told her life was about choices: she could choose to enjoy the moment or she could choose to be miserable. I explained that things don't always turn out the way we want and sometimes we just have to roll with the punches.

She only chose to enjoy the moment after intermission when we got to claim our rightful seats.

I can't say I wasn't seething myself. I could see Ray and Emily from where we were sitting and I was jealous (and mad that we spent money on seats I couldn't sit in). I LOVE this play and I LOVE sitting in those seats. But, because of Hannah, I had to miss it. Because Hannah is going through this mouthy phase and couldn't be nice to me or to Emily, I had to miss it. It was hard not to hold a grudge. Deep inside I kinda wanted her to suffer some guilt, but I took my own advice and tried to enjoy the moment regardless.

But despite my efforts, the night was tainted. I did enjoy the show, but the stress I feel from not getting along with my daughter remains. It just goes to show that I only get more of the same when I try to please these kids.