I am done.
Actually, I was done about 12 days ago. I am not going to spend any more time fighting with Sadie about wearing her coat. And while we are not in Siberia, it gets chilly in Chicago, so I look like an asshole mom whose little kid is turning blue next to her. But, I simply cannot take one more stand-off in the foyer, or in front of school, or in the car where I beg her to put her coat on so she doesn’t freeze.
“Sadie, Mommy can see her breath as she yells at you. That means you should put your coat on because it’s cold.”
“No, Mom, I don’t want to.”
Around and around we go, so I am done.
Here’s my thought process (she wrote defensively): She’s old enough to understand hot and cold. When and if she gets cold enough, she will put it on. The struggle over it was sapping my will to live, and I need to save that will for
blogging all the important things I do all day.
I would say it’s going very well. On day 1, the Headmaster of Sadie’s school saw me and Sadie standing on the sidewalk waiting to cross the street. He stared straight into my
soul eyes, and pretended to talk to Sadie (but he was totally talking to me), “You’re going to be kind of cold, aren’t you?”
With only a smidge of “mind your own business” hostility, I replied, “probably.”
I am not sure who was vindicated when we got about half way across the street and Sadie cried out, “Mooooooom! I am so cold.”
One day 2, I caught some looks from other mothers, but there are plenty of reasons to look askance at me so maybe it wasn’t the coat thing.
A few strangers have mentioned that “her little arms” are “probably freezing,” and I always agree. But you know what’s at the end of those little arms? Fierce little fists that attack my head when I broach the coat issue.
And I am ready for when someone pulls the “she’s going to get sick” speech. Because guess what, being cold doesn’t make you sick. I know. I checked Wikipedia. It’s science, people.
So, yes, that’s my kid walking in the snow in her sundress. She has a new London Fog coat from Costco just waiting for her to slip into, and I am happy to help her put her cold little arms in it. But I’m not spending one more second begging her to wear it.