Sometimes it's tough being five

Background: At Tessa's dentist's office, at the end of each appointment the children are given a "coin" and get to go to a series of machines (not unlike gumball machines) to choose a type of small toy as their reward for doing well. Last time, Tessa chose a sticky lizard, and loved it until it's limbs fell off (these are cheap toys; it didn't take long). This time, she couldn't wait to get a new lizard.

Tessa has shown off her lizard, took it with her to preschool today, and is quite infatuated with it. This is a bit weird (of all the toys to choose....?) but fine, of course.

Until tonight. I was in the kitchen doing dishes after dinner, and suddenly I heard a true shriek from the bathroom - I ran in expecting blood. "IT'S GONE!" she cried, truly gasping for breath and with tears streaming down her cheeks. "IT'S GONE! FOREVER!" and she cried so hard that the whites of her eyes were literally a bright pink.

Assessment....what is she talking about.....? Ahhh. She was giving "Sticky" a bath in the bathroom sink. For reasons unknown to me, she removed the little catcher that sits in the drain....and Sticky was washed out to sea.

For a moment, *I* was mad. "Tessa," I growled, "This is going to cost Mommy & Daddy a big plumbing bill and I'm upset that you did that!"

Oops. I realized very quickly that this was not jsut "one of those things" but that the poor girl was nearly hyperventilating - this wasn't her standard "I'm not getting my way" fit but really, truly, a desperate time.

So, I have spent the past hour plus of my life mourning one very cheap, linty, sticky lizard. I've tried sympathy ("I know how much you liked Sticky,") and I've tried cheap psychology ("Come on - this isn't the worst thing you've dealt with. It could have been worse! It could have been Bear!" - absolutely the most awful, wrong thing I could have said, by the way, and for the record - her shrieks at this point were deafening and it took a good while to calm her down from that one), and I've tried Sound of Music standards (which went well until I tried the unknown fourth verse....the one in which I substitute things from our life for the lyrics. Bringing up Sticky in one line was NOT a good idea.); and I've tried telling her stories from my childhood ("On a road trip, our dog used to ride in the back seat with Uncle Mike and I, and he got diarhea all over my favorite Holly Hobby doll!" - to this she replied that her lizard loss was much, much worse) AND I EVEN PULLED THE CANCER CARD! She said, "I'll never feel better, ever, ever, ever, and I'll never stop crying, " and I said, "Well, Mommy had cancer and I thought I'd never stop crying and I did" and she said, "Did it hurt when they shaved your head?" and I thought that I was really getting somewhere and then she said, "This is the worst day of my life and losing Sticky is MUCH MUCH WORSE than that!"

Well. Okay then.

At this point, fortunately, my sense of humor was in overdrive, and it was all that I could do to keep from laughing, which most definately was not an option in front of her. At some point in the cancer story I ws thinking "oh no I'm scarring her for life with all of this" and I felt guilty, but when she ranked her two cent sticky lizard going down the drain as MUCH MUCH WORSE than cancer, I realized that she wasn't too scarred by my slightly off comparison.

Ahhh, tough to be five.

And tomorrow, when she's at preschool, I plan to go back to her dentist's office to offer them cash for a new sticky lizard. I mean, how can I not?!