Last night I attended an orientation- at the intermediate school. As in, not the elementary school. We are so not in Kansas anymore. Next year that big yellow bus is going to roll up to our drive- at 6:45 AM I might add- to whisk Ally away to the not elementary school.
How did this happen?
The absolute only thing that consoled me at all was when the principal said "Technically we are considered an elementary school- but we call ourselves a transition school that deals specifically with the special needs of 10-12 year olds".
Because as far as I can tell there really are very special needs for 10 year olds. Needs for skillz that I ain't got! This stage of Allyson is, to be totally honest here, harder than the newborn stage. I would so totally prefer to sleep a total of 4 broken hours a day and communicate with a creature whose only words are screaming than to try and decifer what is going on in this 10 year old child's world.
I don't speak 10 year old. But I really do try. She apparently doesn't speak overstressed mom. She doensn't try.
This morning, our entire conversation involved her not being able to wear dirty clothing- her huffing and stomping to her room to change- then me explaining that she had to wear two of the SAME shoes- more huffing and stomping- me shouting what the lunch choices are as she blows out the door and then professing my love to her- and her saying bye.
I need an in here folks. Because I am totally on the outs with her, apparently. If this is at all a preview of what the 'real' puberty years are going to be like- shoot me now.
I'm off to look at old pictures from back when she wanted to hold my hand and would shout out that she loves me and offer kisses willingly.