Sabrina's 5th birthday party is today; Max keeps insisting it's for him. We're going to a gym for playtime and blue-frosted cupcakes, and you can be sure I am bringing the big bottle of purple sugar to sprinkle on some for Max. I don't leave home without it.
This morning, Dave and Sabrina were running out for a swim lesson and I needed a hair tie for her. The only one I could find was purple. Max saw that I was about to put it on Sabrina and had a total meltdown. I mean, it's not like he wears hair ties, although he did come home in one from the daycare center when we went skiing in December. I'd thought he'd recovered from his afternoon as Maxine, but perhaps no.
Now, this would have been a fine teaching moment to help Max understand that he needs to share things, including his love of the color purple. Or just put my foot down and let him wail.
But I needed to get her out the door.
I needed to keep the peace.
And, truth, it's awful to see Max get so distraught.
So I distracted Max with some talk about cupcakes, stealthily handed the purple band to Dave, they dashed out the door and Max forgot all about it.
I said something to my friend Marah afterward, who's visiting us. It feels wrong to pull the (purple) wool over the eyes of a child who has special needs. It's not the first time I've done it (or with Sabrina, either, but I never feel guilty with her, just victorious).
"It's OK! Moms with little kids do that stuff all the time!!!" she said.
Exactly: moms of little kids. Max is 7. He's not developmentally 7, but still. He's getting to be a big boy.
I think I have to stop being a weenie.
