It’s supposed to be a philosophical paradox, not a description of my children, but here we are.
When #Angel doesn’t want to do something, she simply doesn’t. She is my Immovable Object. When she gets her heart set on something, mostly not cooperating with anything no matter how peacefully we try to convince her, she won’t move. Literally. We often have to move her ourselves, which usually makes things worse but is often unavoidable.
This morning was probably the worst I’ve ever seen it. She wouldn’t get dressed, wouldn’t eat breakfast, wouldn’t leave the house to get in the car, then wouldn’t leave the car to go to school. It wasn’t at all embarassing to get out of my seat in the drop-off lane at school to physically remove my daughter from my car.
From now on we’re going to just take a mental health day from school instead. One day of first grade is not more important than either of our sanity.
And then we have my Unstoppable Force, otherwise known as #SmallQaeda.
Usually his force is audible, not physical, but it’s just as unstoppable. He is literally the loudest person I’ve ever met, not yet familiar with the concept of the Inside Voice. We tell him to “Be quiet.” “Oh”, he replies, and then goes on shattering eardrums.
As should be expected, the Immovable Object and Unstoppable Force frequently collide, causing indescribable carnage, usually in the form of slapping and crying because someone was being too friendly.
I suspect most of this will subside as they get older, which for this and other reasons I hope will happen sooner than later.