Thursday, September 24, 2009

sometimes Ainsleigh is smart, and sometimes not so much

Ainsleigh mystified me this morning when we were walking to school in the nearly-freezing temperatures (but the sun was peeking through, so it felt MUCH warmer than 39 degrees) and she mentioned that she was only wearing one sock. I'm trying to balance the are-you-trying-to-start-a-new-trend with the getting-you-three-out-the-door-in-the-morning-is-a-big-enough-circus-and-now-I-have-to-do-sock-checks-on-my-7-year-old?! So I replied with just an Uhh...why? "Because the one sock was too small and kept sliding down so I just took it off and put on my sneaker." There were several things in there I wanted to address, but I shook them off to address the issue at hand. Why didn't you just get another sock? "Because I don't HAVE any more socks!" Imagine those last words gradually increasing in pitch and intensity, warning of tears and drama to come. She truly was feeling sorry for herself about how she didn't have socks. Poor girl. EXCEPT that I triumphantly got to remind her that THIS was why I get frustrated when I go down to the basement and find seven socks scattered around. SEVEN. And then go into her room and pull out five from under her bed. So while she might have three pairs of socks in her laundry basket (of FOLDED clothes, waiting to be put away, where they've been waiting next to her dresser for two days), she actually has many more than that. Point - ME!

So THEN she gets all mournful that she only has one sock and the kids will laugh at her and her foot is cold. We're halfway to school and this whole issue is so pathetic so I say, "Look. You can do two things. First, you can wait for someone to ask you about it and you can get all bothered and they can keep asking you and you can start crying and then other kids will see you're crying and they'll ask why and someone will say you only have one sock and they'll think it's funny and then other kids will ask why they're laughing and they'll say because you have one sock on and pretty soon everyone is talking about one-sock-Ainsleigh and you're crying harder. OR. Someone can ask you and you can shrug and say, 'I only wanted to wear one sock. My mom thought it was silly. I just wanted to try it out,' and then go back to doing your work and the topic will die there. But honestly, I don't think anyone will notice." She was still a little glum, and I was kind of glad. I mean come ON - who doesn't wear ONE sock. Both on, or both OFF (but actually just both on, because sneakers without socks isn't really ever a good idea). How hard is that?!

I love how smart she can be sometimes. Like a few days ago when I was asking her about the darkling beetles they are hatching. Well, first they did caterpillars. Then eggs. Now mealworms. Did you know beetles come from worms? I didn't. I also didn't remember they were darkling beetles, but when I googled mealworms, it came up. But Ainsleigh remembers all that stuff. And when I turned to Joel to tell him about the worms and how I ask if they've hatched yet, she kind of cocked her head forward and put her hand out, palm up, and said in a voice that echoed an I-hate-to-break-it-to-you, "It's. EMERGED." Whuuu? I began giggling while she clarified, "Chicks hatch from an egg, but the beetles EMERGE from their pupa." Hee! She said pupa!

It was that same day that she was talking about some kids at school and I asked her what their last names were, trying to figure out if I knew the parents. She rattled off their names and for some reason, I was completely amused by it. She looked at me, a little confused, and I realized what that reason was: she knows stuff I don't. And I told her. Up until now, there hasn't been anything she has known, that I haven't. I know EVERYTHING. Or at least everything that she knows. But she's doing stuff and learning things and it's outside my circle of knowledge (vast as that circle may be). You're a PERSON, I giggled from the couch. Eyeroll. Headshake. "Of COURSE, mom. And you're weird." Perhaps.

Sometimes I giggle at how smart I think she is, and then sometimes I'm just speechless by her inability to perform certain basic functions. Like brushing her hair. Or getting ready in the morning without reminders every 5 minutes. Or putting a sock on each foot.


Margo said...

I just love reading your blog. You are such a talented writer and it feels like you are sitting right here telling me your stories. love ya.