Her Majesty, Queen Mataluni, from the Kingdom of Drama
I pick pocketed the title from a friend of mine who was referring to her own daughter. There is so much drama around this house that it is stifling. I tried to head it off before, when the girls were little, but it didn’t work. I had them trained to respond “On the stage!” when I asked them where drama belonged. I still threaten to send them to Interlochen when they are being dramatic. It is a fine arts school in northern Michigan. It’s not much of a threat though. I am sure that my girls would love it; there is the matter of being accepted, and the expense.
I have always preferred the company of men who don’t gossip and are straight to the point…and when they cry something is really, seriously wrong…or excruciatingly funny. Since I was a little girl I always found myself hanging out with the guys. I was an only child, and didn’t really spend all that much time around girls as a kid. It wasn’t until after I had children that I developed friendships with more than just a handful of women. I may not survive my two little drama queens…and they are still only eight and ten!
My oldest daughter is the one who likes to play the martyr. She is the Scarlett O’Hara of the family, so to speak. She is sweet and charming and wonderful a lot of the time. She is a darling, and a helper, and a hard worker out in public. When she is behind closed doors and she gets upset…whoa boy, watch out! When she finally shuts herself in her room for the epicenter of her tantrum, because if I had to endure one at close range, I swear my ears would bleed, I tend to hear these lines a lot: “Nobody cares, nobody understands, this is the worst day of my life, I always do everything around here and they do nothing, NOTHING!” A couple of times I have had to interrupt her rage, because I heard her say that she hated herself. I know she didn’t mean it…it’s just the climax of the storm, but all the same it’s not an okay thing to say.
My younger daughter is completely different, yet equally as dramatic. Help. Her fits tend to come in the form of pleading. “Oh, no, no…I can’t do it, it’s too hard, it doesn’t make any sense, and I’m not going to!” Today I pointed out to her that she really needs to get this behavior under control. I asked her how she thought she would feel, if she someday met a young man that she liked, and he saw her behaving that way. Writhing on the living room floor in the throws of “No, no, no, no…” She told me that I was humiliating her. I told her that she was wrong, and I was trying to help her by pointing out something relevant.
When the two of them get together in a snarky mood…Wow, just watch out! Sometimes my husband and I can witness these interactions with a light heart and simply roll our eyes and giggle at each other over the absurdity of the girls’ back-and-forth. However, when I am faced with these incidents, at a time when I want some peace and quiet, and the two of them go on, and on, and on, it’s pretty difficult to put up with. I don’t know how people with more than two girls survive. Yet I do know that with each new day we face, I am ready to meet the challenge of the drama…for my little queens.