Alexis is in a "I don't want to go to school," rut. I think it's a combination of things that has her suddenly all whiny about going to the only place she has ever known. For one, there have been FAR too many vacation/sick/stay home days in the past few months. While I'm glad she has had a lot of fun each time she's gotten one, she hasn't quite figured out that we can't keep up that pace all year round. The bigger issue, however, is that her bestest friend of all time switched schools about a month back. And when I say "bestest friend," I'm talking about Alexis' other half . . . the little girl who became attached to Alexis' hip (and heart) when they were 6-months old and never let go. Until now.
Yeah, it kinda sucks. A lot.
Anyway, this morning was yet another morning filled with complaints like, "I want to stay home with you," and such. Once I explained to Alexis that it would be terribly boring at home all by herself since I wouldn't be there, she got the bright idea into her head that she should ask to go to work with me.
I told her that would also be horribly boring. Always one to investigate potential lies, she started questioning me. I shot down her dreams of watching TV. I blew up her hopes of playing with toys. I denied the opportunity to play outside. I confessed that the snacks weren't as good as what she would get at school. I admitted there was no story time. I acknowledged that there would be no chances to splash in the sprinkler.
With a newfound understanding for what it is that I don't do at work, Alexis looked at me and said, "It's OK, momma. You can stay here with me. We'll have fun!"
If only.
