Presumptions and Assumptions

This week I get drop off duty for Susie. It means that I have to get up earlier so I can still make it to work at a reasonable hour. But it also means that instead of the tired Susie, who incessantly chants about returning to Nana's house and getting out of the car seat, I get the freshly awake and in a good mood Susie. I enjoy taking her in the morning. We get to talk and sing songs without any distractions . . . well except for the whole driving thing, but you get that I don't have to answer a phone call or email, get dinner out of the oven, or attend to some other nuisance that limits meaningful conversation.

This morning, our conversation went like this:

Me: "Susie, what are you going to do at Nana's today?"
Susie: "Going on AIRPLANE! Go way up in the sky!"
Me: *curiously asks* "Where are you going?"
Susie: "Far away." *very matter-of-factly stated*
Me: "Oh, OK." *As if I understood, when in fact I was just more curious. Usually, airplane conversations involve Disney World as the destination, so I was curious about this new mysterious place.* "Soooooo, what are you going to do when you get there?"
Susie: "Do some stuff. Have fun."
Me: *thinking, OH, of course!* "Who's going with you?"
Susie: "Nana and Alex. And, Susie go, too."
Me: "OK. When are you coming home?"

. . . . . . Silence. . . . . . .

Our conversation made me think about how smart Susie is. We went on an airplane with Nana and her cousin, Alex, when she was only 18 months old. Since that time she sporadically talks about going on a plane "way up in the sky!" I presumed that, like usual, she was talking about her memory of our trip to Florida. When I arrived at Nana's I learned that going on a trip wasn't on the agenda. However, playing in the boxes and pretending they are airplanes was on the agenda.

. . . . Still silence. . . . . .

So, while I was thinking about how grown up she was getting, it dawned on me that I should give her some positive reinforcement for sleeping her her own bed last night. You see, normally, at 2:30 am EVERY morning, some internal clock in Susie goes off and she starts screaming, "No! No! No! No!" like someone is yanking her out of bed and taking her away. Every morning, at 2:30 am I bolt awake like someone is yanking Susie out of bed and taking her away, and I must go rescue her. Of course, she is always just in her bed mad that she is awake and alone. Of course, I keep getting up and checking on her because I have read about "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." Inevitably, more often than not, she ends up returning to bed with me. In my defense, it is often the quickest way that I can get back to sleep. And, deep, continuous sleep is something more precious than societal approval for not co-sleeping.

My attempt at positive parenting went like this:

Me: "So, Susie, Mommy is very proud of you for sleeping in your own bed last night."
Susie: "Mommy not like Susie."
Me: "WHAT?" *certainly I heard her wrong*
Susie: "Mommy not like Susie. Not want Susie in bed with Mommy."
Me: "Baby! Mommy LOVES you. I LOVE spending time with you! I love snuggling with you! Mommy likes Susie, but also likes for her to sleep in her own bed. . ."

Then I began an endless, incoherent rant about how much I loved her and it was good that Mommy wanted her to learn how to sleep in her own bed. The rant, in retrospect, was more for my benefit, I'm sure, than hers. She mistakenly assumed that I didn't like her because I didn't want her in bed with me at night. The simple explanation would have helped her understand. She certainly didn't need me telling her about the theories I'd read in countless parenting books. But I apparently needed them to help me feel better about my position on raising an independent child.

Today's presumptions and assumptions landed us at the wrong destination.