Butting Heads

I was trying to make it look like those boxing photos, but Kamryn kept laughing and I look like I should be in the bathroom instead.

Kamryn and I hit rough spots in our relationship every once and awhile.  I know it’s to be expected, especially with mothers and daughters.  I see a lot of myself in Kamryn’s personality, specifically the argumentative parts.  And as much as I hate to admit it, I see a lot of my mom in my personality and my grandma in her personality and so on and so forth.

Yesterday we were meeting some friends for lunch and on the way to the restaurant, I asked Kamryn about her day.  She has had a substitute for the last couple of weeks while her teacher is recovering from surgery on her hand so I want to make sure Kamryn is paying attention and doing the things she’s supposed to.  She has a tendency to get distracted – *I have no idea where she gets that from*.

She told me they were doing bead math.  In my head I pictured them pouring out beads on the table and doing simple addition and subtraction.  I asked her how many beads she had and she said “No, not bead math, beat math.”  Oooohhhhh, OK.  I asked her if they used a drum to pound out the beats.  And then all hell broke loose.

“NOT BEAT MATH!  YOU ARE SAYING IT WRONG!  BEEEEEAAAAAATTTTT!

I tried to convince her that I was saying it right, and she was not hearingme correctly.  Soon, she started to cry and I told her she could show me when we got home to which she screamed, “I CAN’T SHOW YOU AT HOME!”

That was enough.  I told her she was being ridiculous, crying for no reason and once we got home she could take a nap like a baby since that was what she was acting like.  (Hello pot, this is kettle)  She immediately stopped crying and told me she would show me later.

By the time we got home, we had both forgot about the math dispute.  Today, however, when we were on our way home from school, the issue resurfaced when I asked Kamryn about her day.  Once again they had done frickin’ beat math, and I still don’t have the slightest clue what it is!

I simply replied with an “Ohhhh, I see.”  and left it at that.  I was watching her in the rear-view mirror and I could see that she wanted to say something, but was biting her tongue.  She’s such a smart little girl.

The rest of our 3 minute drive was rather quiet and the second we walked in the door, Kamryn grabbed a piece of paper and a marker and hastily scribbled this:

She held it up and said, “Here.  What is this?  We play with sand toys here.”

I got a huge smile on my face and replied, “It’s the beach.  Beach math, huh?”

“YES!”

Fantastic!  I still don’t know what the hell it is, but I’ll ask someone else instead.

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8 thoughts on “Butting Heads

  1. A topless muppet?? That’s a little scary LOL

    I have similar conversations with James but fortunately he doesn’t get too frustrated… he says things wrong sometimes or doesn’t know the names for things so I try to be patient… but yes, I do have to resort to simply nodding, smiling and saying “uh-huh… sounds like fun!” from time to time.

    If that was the correct response, James tells me more about it. If it’s not, he’ll just slap his forehead and tell me to forget about it.

  2. Your post made me laugh. Because it is funny and because I’ve had such conversations with one of my girls before. Visiting from SITS. Thanks for sharing.

    • I love hearing that I’m not the only one going through this. At lunch today, Kamryn turned to me and said “Beach” and had this huge grin on her face. All I can do is shake my head.

  3. Aw, my mom and I bump heads a LOT too, and my dad says it’s because we are so much alike. I’m beginning to believe him. We do get along a lot better for the past five years though, which is great.
    Your little girl sounds adorable though. Good luck wit the butting of heads.

    Visiting via SITS Sharefest 🙂

    • Thanks! I don’t think I realized the similarities between my mom and I until I was about 30. I fought it for so long and would disagree with her even when I believed the same thing. No one wants to be compared to their mother, at least no one I know, but it appears to be inevitable.

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