I think I'm in control of my life, but I'm really not.
Not anymore.
Yesterday evening it took me a half hour to pick Autumn up from school. The day before, the same thing. Leaving our house in the morning seems to take more effort than moving a locomotive. And this morning, it took 20-30 minutes to drop her off at school.
In some ways, it seems like I am in control. I decide the general time when we'll need to leave the house. I decide that we leave the house at all. I buckle her in her car seat and take her out of it at school.
But the details, those are what Autumn controls. If she wants to dawdle at the top of the stairs for a few minutes, she does. If she wants to run around and look at her toys downstairs, before getting in the car, she does. If she wants to stop and look out the window, she does. When we get to school, she stands out on the sidewalk for a while, for no particular reason. Sometimes she looks at the shrubbery. Once inside, she checks out other rooms. She says "Hi" to everyone. She looks at any toys that might be on the way.
Then we get in her room. Some days she wants to put her lunch away. Some days not. Some days she takes her coat off. Some days I take it off. Some days she says "Bye" to me right away. Other times she's not ready for quite a while.
And therefore, it seems the ball is actually in Autumn's court. She's in control now and I really can't find it in my heart to force her to fit my schedule. After all, she's a child and shouldn't I let her be a child until adulthood forces her to conform to some rigid schedule?
As for right now, I'm just hoping we compromise a little.