Child turned 7 and became a whole new person with a sophisticated set of social know-how, a dazzling sense of humor, and the attitude of a 13-year-old girl.
So, before getting in my face and saying, aggressively, “Mommy, I want to go with Lydia!” in this clenched-teeth voice that was legitimately almost frightening, we had this conversation:
“Mommy, I think I know who’s going to win the coloring contest.”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Nuh-uh,” shaking her head with earnestness, “but it’s not going to be Connor, either.”
Her voice got low and conspiratorial, “MaKenzie.”
Then she snapped out if it and said, “Anyways, I just think she’s going to win.”
Every other day it’s, “I don’t wanna be friends with Monique anymore. She’s mean.”
and “I want to be friends with Monique, I forgive her.”
Or out of the blue, she’ll look at me with big, dewey eyes and say, “Mommy, I just really miss BombBomb and JuJuBee.” (man I wish we really had friends who named their kids BombBomb and JuJuBee).
I remember changing my mind about who my friends were, but not till middle school.
Child wouldn’t be conned into having a “chapter book” read to her little by little for anything. But suddenly she’s thrilled to receive Bunnicula a little at a time (and I’m thrilled to read it).
She asked me to buy her a coloring book this morning. This is a child who has had dozens of coloring books purchased for her by every breathing person in her life, and has never a single time agreed to color with me. Just now, she is coloring the second picture of the day, including a love note to grandma and pop pop.
Yesterday, she changed her list of favorite colors from (no joke, I just confirmed with her) pink purple red orange yellow blue black white, to pink purple black white. This new list is lightly revised from two days ago when it was “I’m thinking about changing my favorite colors to pink black white.”
All this to say that interacting with a seven-year-old is often like interacting with a bipolar cartoon character.