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Perhaps, If Samantha Knew How to Write


It’s not easy being a teenager when you’re only two years old. Nobody in my family seems to understand me.

In the morning, Mommy treats me like a baby. She tries to put my own shoes on my own feet -- even though I can do it myself (at least most of the time). She tries to put me in the car seat, even though I can climb in myself; and she tries to buckle me in, even though I can do it -- almost. I just need a little practice, is all. But how will I ever get better if she’s always butting in trying to do it for me?

Sometimes Elizabeth treats me like a baby, too. Or worse, she treats me like I don’t exist. I try to tell a story, but then she’ll start telling her own story, even though I’m not done. Sometimes I’ll be singing a song, and she’ll start singing it, too; or she’ll start singing a totally different song which, besides being RUDE, makes it hard for me to remember the words to the song I was originally singing. It’s so frustrating!

When I get really frustrated, I start to yell; or grunt; or whine. Mommy and Daddy don’t like it. But I can’t help it. I just don’t understand why they don’t get me already. Don’t they know what I want by now? Don’t they know what I need?

Last weekend was the worst. We were playing in the back yard. I wanted to climb up the slide, but Elizabeth climbed up before I did and got to the top and wouldn’t let me get by her. Later, I wanted to go down the slide, but this time Elizabeth was climbing UP the slide and wouldn’t let me get by. I just wanted to climb up the slide and then go down the slide and then climb up the slide again. Is that so much to ask?!

Mommy went on and on about “sharing” and “taking turns” and “using my words”. But I don’t know how to say, “Leave me alone and let me do it MY way and stop helping me and tell Lizzy she needs to back off a little.” But I’m learning.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and said the one word I know really well: “Goodbye!”

I looked right at Mommy and yelled at her. You should have seen the look on her face -- she wasn’t expecting that. Then I stormed off and Daddy almost bumped into me so I said “Goodbye!” to him too. He looked confused. Then I tried to go back into the house, but Meg was in my way so I yelled, “Get out of the way, cat!” She got out of my way.

Mommy came after me and told me she would be sad if I went away. But I didn’t let that stop me. I said, “I want to go to the grocery store BY MY SELF!” She said OK and that she’d miss me.

What I really want, though, is to get in the car and drive away. But I can’t reach the gas pedal. Or the brakes. Sometimes Mommy lets me sit in her lap in the driver’s seat and I turn the wheel back and forth and honk the horn, but the car never seems to move -- it doesn’t go anywhere. I know there’s something she’s not telling me. She’s just trying to hold me back.

After Mommy said it was OK for me to go to the grocery store, I didn’t feel like going anymore. Weird. So I just threw myself onto the couch and cried for a while. Then she put on Maisy for me, and that made me feel a little better. I wanted Mommy to sit next to me, but I didn’t want her to hug and kiss on me. I don’t know why.

She sat with me for a minute, and then she left to clean. She’s always cleaning. I wish she’d stop and sit with me more. It’s nice when she does that.




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