The Con

We don't give children the credit they are due. These little people grow up to invent things, design, manipulate, calculate, create, explore space and rule. They don't learn those God given talents and curiousities from school or even parents. So yes, let's just realize now that they are indeed born with lots of smarts.

Have you ever eaten a meal with an adult that would only eat mac and cheese or chicken nuggets? I submit to you that it is very early on that they figure out how to control big people.  The big people in this very house carried avocados around in my purse for quite a while.  You know, we wouldn't want one of those little people to have to starve or succomb to restaurant food. First born children just really are "training agents" for parents. You second born, should thank your older sibling. It may not seem like they did you any favors, but really they did. Trust me on this one.  They worked a great amount of uptightness out of your parents.

You would think by protype 2, we parents would've figured out the ploys. You would think right? No, too many variables in the equation still. It's really that 3rd protype that gets it good. Parents by then have done it all, tried it all and just don't have the energy to use everything they now know. So number 3 gets to do some free-wheeling that first born never even would have EVER dreamed of doing.  Number three, say thank you to number 2.  Two just made old mom and dad a bit humble.  That middle child made the parents realize number one wasn't so perfect because of great parenting skills. 

Back to "the con" we go.  Our youngest is at first sight, quiet and reserved and appears bashful. Our first born is quiet, reserved and appears bashful. What is the difference? That  "a" word: appears. One only "appears" that way.

Not to give the impression one is smarter, who really knows on that? I'm sure they will both run smart circles around me. One,  upon first meeting is quiet, reserved and is sizing you up. Discernment? Could that be one of her gifts? Time will tell.
One, is quiet, reserved and assessing the surroundings, noting every detail and deciding if it a safe place? Noting your left eye has a slight twitch every 3.5 seconds. Is wondering will I feel comfortable here? Why are the other people doing X? Details, details, details and committing it all to memory. This one's career path will surely be intriguing. He's complex.

The Con, her favorite person to con happens to be the author of this blog. I know, I've spent  more time with her than anyone else and yet? Why is it that the parents are the last to know? Is it the heart-strings are so tight that we can't see out of the kitchen? 

Why do we let them "play" us like we do? I know I am not alone on this. If you have a child you've fallen into the trap at some point. I know you have!!

Her latest earned  an A for a valiant effort on the plot and execution, although in the end it was a failure. Me on the other hand, well I finally got a "w" in my column! Wohoo!!

Kindergarten started and the first 5 days were pretty amazing. She was falling into the big school routine with her big brother and that got her plan a little off I'd say. She was enjoying being a "big kid" and doing what big brother was doing.

Then week two rolled around and this big kid routine started getting a little monotonous for her.  I think the fast from wearing loosey goosey Crocs all day was starting to annoy also. She half-heartedly tried the teenager tactic of playing sick. She'd worn that out in the past. I didn't even pretend to take the bait.
She pulled out her play book and scrolled back to the previous fall.  Reviewed it  and put plan in place.  Weapon of choice based on prior effectiveness:  TEARS, "I miss you" and "I just want to be with you today Mommy" were her weapons of choice. Yes, she was armed and had a good track record with this head on attack.  She was going nuclear.

I have a decent memory of last fall too though. I remember the money we wasted on 3 weeks of Spanish school. I remember the tears and other weapons she riddled me with. I remember thinking I was surely traumatizing this poor child putting her in a Spanish speaking school. I remember her final confession after I moved her to a new English speaking school. It wasn't how much she was still missing me. It was this "I just didn't like the way the Spanish school smelled"!  (Yes, I felt like I'd been slapped with the silly stick).

I prayed for little Tallulah to have just the right teacher for Kindergarten this year. I can say, God has so far answered that prayer. Her vetern teacher spoke just a few words to her and called her bluff on Thursday. Instant smile, no more tears and she once again marches confidently into Kindergarten with a Cheshire cat smile on that sweet, innocent "appearing" beautiful face I love.

She didn't win this time (in her eyes), but I have no doubt she'll try to con me again.
Remind me to tell you  how she conned her Daddy this summer.